#i would’ve puked like every day from stress

[aldoodles]

Here's a toughy if your into some angst esque moments. You capture facial expressions so well.

Grace, sitting at the table, waiting for her kids to come home at the end of Book 1.

If I was her I wouldn’t’ve been able to function let alone keep going to work

[thot-writes]

repost because tumblr fixed the problem 🌸

you’re a street-rat informant and yuno’s ur boyfriend (because yuno’s ass is grass and you’re gonna mow it) (nsfw 18+);

with a face like yuno’s, it’s only natural to assume he’s had experience with women (and men) swooning over him. luckily for him, few seemed to make their intentions quite so clear. that meant he didn’t have to acknowledge it.

you, on the other hand, suffered from no such bashfulness. when you first met him in a tavern, you zeroed in on him much like when a predator sights it’s prey, and put on your best smoulder.

“Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a dump like this?” you cooed, resting your arm on the wooden table he sat at.

he didn’t even spare you a glance as he replied, “Work.”

you tried to ignore the swift hit he’d landed on your pride. “There’s only one kind of job I can think of that involves sitting in a tavern… But something tells me you’re too good for that.”

he sighs, either not knowing what you’re referring to or not caring. he ultimately tells you he’s looking for information— and what do you know, information is something you have.

you wind up working with him on a case for the Magic Knights (who would’ve thought low-born scum like you would deign to be in their holy presence?) figuring out the whereabouts of an artefact that had gone missing��� and the whereabouts of the person who took it.

it took you on a convoluted quest involving cults, criminals, and more cults that had you wishing on more than one occasion that you could just keep your damn libido in check. how many times must you involve yourself in danger for a pretty face?

regardless, you pursued yuno relentlessly and he always coolly rejected you. normally you would’ve managed to bed your target a good few times by now— enough to get them out of your system anyway— but yuno was a crafty one.

he seemed completely immune to your wily charms and flirtations, yet you’d catch the tips of his ears growing red whenever you gave him a compliment. could he somehow tell when you were being genuine and when you weren’t? a scary thought.

you were convinced that he was outwitting you somehow. this was your game, one you’d never lost, yet here he was somehow tricking you into… catching feelings!

normally you’d flirt with someone, maybe help them on an errand, bed them, and disappear into the wind— but gods be damned, you found yourself thinking it’d be a shame when your work was over. the scandal! you could scarcely believe your own mind. this wizard was pulling one over on you!

his deadpan mannerisms, the way he’d light up when he talked about becoming the Wizard King, how he’d pointedly look away from you every time you managed to make him blush. you were slowly figuring out what made him tick, and what emotion he was feeling regardless of what showed on his face. your in-depth knowledge of him should’ve warned you that you were in too deep.

the first time you kissed him was after a battle, he’d disappeared after an enemy’s attack and you were certain that he wouldn’t return. it made you feel ill, you wanted to puke and scream and cry all at the same time. you had it bad, and it was far, far too late to back out now.

he turned out fine, he hadn’t even spared a second thought. once the fight was won, he walked off with minor injuries as if it was just another day on the job.

which, arguably, it was. but it still pissed you off how nonchalant he was while your stomach was in knots for the first time ever.

you were consumed with rage and worry— how could he just let you stress like that and not even acknowledge it?

you grabbed him by the arm, much harder than you intended (though that only went to show how scared shitless you were).

you slammed him against the wall of an abandoned alley, and he glared at your forcefulness. “What do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, yanking his arm from your iron grip.

“What do I think I’m doing? What do you think you’re doing?! That was a damn risky move you made just then and you know it.” you snapped back.

“It worked, didn’t it? I had everything under control— I’m far stronger than you give me credit for.”

“But not invincible! One wrong step and that could’ve been it for you, and you’re acting like nothing even happened!”

“Why do you even care? You’re only in this for yourself, you’ll just forget m— forget all of us once you get your reward, then you’ll spend it all in some tavern.” his thin brows furrowed in annoyance, but you didn’t miss that uncertain flicker in his eyes. like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

you brought your hand to cup his cheek and his breathing hitched. “Forget them maybe,” you said, referring to his companions. you only remembered mimosa’s name because you loved that drink. “Not you.”

before he could say anything else you slammed your lips onto his, miraculously missing his teeth. his fingers dug into your arm, not quite pushing you away but not quite pulling you closer either.

he eventually relaxed into the kiss, and you took the opportunity to press your thigh between his legs, eliciting a gasp from him. instinctively he pulled you in, pressing your bodies together as your tongue probed his mouth.

when you parted, yuno sighed and inadvertently rubbed his quickly growing erection against your thigh. “Wait,” he moaned in weak protest, “someone might see.”

you traced your wet tongue up his exposed neck, kissing and licking at his ear as you reached it. “That’s never stopped me before.”

he bit his lower lip to silence his whines as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. your hands fell to his backside and you kissed him again. he wasn’t a good kisser by any means— you’d wager you’re the first kiss he’s ever actually had— but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

his whimpers vibrated against your mouth as you squeezed his ass and tugged him closer, increasing the friction between your thigh and his crotch.

a small wet patch began to form where the tip of his cock rested, and you decided (for once in your life) to be kind and released it from its confines. his body jolted at the contact of your skin on his, and he buried his face in the nook of your neck to stop from grunting.

his restrained voice was like an angel’s song in your ear, and you were overcome with an intense need to take him— all of him— and claim it for yourself.

with one hand working his pre-slicked cock and the other massaging his ass, it didn’t take long for your pretty little fuck-toy to blow his load up your wrist and forearm.

his breathing was erratic against you, his grip tightening and loosening as his body was wracked with the pleasure of his orgasm. he grew soft in your cum-soaked hand and you redressed him silently.

finally, he gathered his composure and managed to pull away from you, though he refused to look in your direction. you could see the tips of his ears burned a deep red, and you smirked to yourself in satisfaction.

you caught his chin with your clean hand and turned him to look at you. he had a deep scowl settled on his face, but his cheeks were still aflame.

you raised your other arm to your mouth, and his eyes widened in surprise as you started to lick his juices off of you. he held his breath, unable to look away, and if he could get hard again so quickly he was certain he would’ve.

when you were finished, you released his chin. “I don’t clean up after just anyone, Yuno. You’re not just a conquest to me, and you haven’t been for a while. You know what I mean by that, don’t you?”

he slowly nodded as his breathing resumed again, unable to find any words to respond with.

“Good boy.” you smiled at him. “Now take responsibility, I won’t forgive you if you run off and die on me.”

as he opens his mouth to respond, you hear klaus approaching. “Are you two alright?” he asks. “I heard yelling earlier, but I wanted to give you a chance to work it out amongst yourselves.”

you take a step back from yuno, giving a wider space between you. “We’re fine. Right, Yuno?”

he lifts his gaze to look to klaus. “Yes. Thank you, Klaus.”

klaus responds with a polite nod. “Good. We need to keep moving, the trail leads to a village nearby and we want to keep up the momentum before the enemy gets wind.”

“Lead the way,” you say with a wave of your hand, and he does.

you and yuno walk side by side in silence for a while. at first glance it seems like yuno is completely unaffected by what happened mere minutes earlier, but you’d learned enough about him that he was probably a mess of emotions internally.

with a mischievous grin, you cast a sideways glance to him and say, “I wonder if this village has any cozy alleys.” the implication is enough to set his face alight once more.

“Not a chance,” he answers curtly. you can’t help but chuckle to yourself.

if only this pretty boy knew how hopelessly infatuated you were with him.

[tobiokuns]

— surprise pregnancy with haikyuu boys

summary: you hadn’t planned for this to happen. neither of you had. but it had, and now you had to tell him.

characters: kageyama tobio, miya atsumu, akaashi keiji

tags: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, some humor, brief mention of abortion, implied body image insecurities, happy ending

— kageyama tobio

you wring your hands as you lean against the doorjamb, anxiously waiting for kageyama to come home. he’d had a long week, you know, but your first appointment with your doctor is on monday, and you think he’d like to be there if possible. at least, you’d put it off long enough.

the click of the lock unlatching and the familiar turn of the knob raises your attention. you feel like you’re going to choke under the pressure, and even seeing his face doesn’t calm you down.

if anything, you’re even more nervous, seeing the sweat on his brow.

“tobio—” you call over to him when he walks through the door, before you lose your nerve, “i’m pregnant.”

there’s a terse silence, even though kageyama just looks confused. your boyfriend blinks once, twice, and scrunches his eyebrows like he always does when he’s thinking hard, and just stares. your heart pounds in your chest.

“...but i just signed onto a new team,” he says, finally.

you make a sound of affirmation. “yeah, i know,” you sigh, smiling tightly, “but we can make it work, right?”

he kinda looks like he does when he’s setting, in deep concentration, kind of unhappy. you wait for him to say something, anything, but the silence stretches on, for so long that you think you’ll have a heart attack.

“my first doctor’s appointment is on monday,” you tell him, trying to nudge him into saying something, “do you want to come with me?”

“i can’t, i have practice,” he blurts out almost automatically, and you nod. of course he does. it’s silent for a while, and then he’s speaking again. “can’t you...” he swallows, looking away, “...not have the baby?”

don’t lose your shit, you tell yourself, don’t lose your shit. you tamp down the growing anger and nod again, making another vague humming noise.

“yeah, i could,” you agree, voice eerily quiet, “but i want the baby, tobio.”

“okay,” he nods, “...do what you want, then.” 

your heart drops. you can’t see his face, not with his bangs covering his eyes, but you stare at him for a while anyway, your own eyes stinging. you silently shuffle back into the house, leaving him standing in the doorway.

it’s awkward when he slips into bed that night. you keep your back to him, but you can almost feel his gaze on the ceiling. you don’t know when he sleeps, or if he ever does. by the time you wake up, he’s wrapped around you, leg thrown over yours, his big hand rubbing over your still flat stomach under your shirt.

he jolts awake as soon as you stir, dropping his lips against your neck and nuzzling you.

“i’m sorry about last night,” he murmurs immediately, and you’re sure he’s pouting. “y-you caught me off guard. i want it. the... the baby. with you.”

you sigh, staring at the wall opposite from you. you think of having to move again, back to japan this time. you thought that would be good for you and kageyama, but his reaction last night...

“are you sure?” you ask, covering his hand with yours, missing some of the bravado you had, “we can...”

“no,” he sounds almost childish, and you smile, wondering how he’ll be as a father, “no, i’m—i’m sure.”

his arms tighten around you. it’s not often that you get to cuddle in the morning with kageyama, not when he’s always going for jogs and volleyball practice. so you lean back, telling yourself that everything will be just fine.

— miya atsumu

“y’know, y/n...” your boyfriend says to you one day, “yer gettin’ kinda... like, fat...”

you whip your head around to stare at him, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. he cowers instinctively, waiting for you to hit him like you usually do, but your arm stops midair before you let it drop. 

you wanted to hide this a little longer, because to be honest, you were scared. scared of his reaction, scared he wouldn’t want you, scared you’d be left alone. but you sigh, knowing you couldn’t anymore, and slump against the couch.

“atsumu...” you lower your voice, and instantly he cowers more.

“i‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it like that!” he yells, hands covering his face, “don’t hit me, i’m beggin—”

“no, atsumu,” you sigh, taking his hands into yours, “listen to me.”

he sees how serious your expression is and quiets down, bowing his head and leaning closer to you. the idiot still probably thinks you’re mad because he called you fat, you think. you would’ve laughed if you didn’t feel like puking at this moment.

“i’m pregnant,” you say, taking a deep breath, “we’re gonna have a baby.”

“hah?” he retorts quickly, “we’re what? no, we’re not.”

you watch as his face changes, and then he’s off again. “no, y/n, ya can’t be pregnant. i can’t be a dad. have ya met me? samu doesn’t even have a kid yet, ‘nd that’s like, the one thing i don’t wanna beat him at and— goddammit, i shoulda used condoms—”

 “atsumu,” you almost scream, the panic bubbling up in your chest, “do you not want to do this with me?”

“but, weren’t ya on the pill or somethin’? how could this happen?” he acts as if he hadn’t heard your question,” y/n, are ya sure it’s min—”

you can’t take it anymore and burst out crying. you don’t even pay attention to the fact that he just accused you of cheating. the stress from the weeks of keeping this to yourself explodes and you sob loudly, louder than atsumu’s panicked rambling.

“shit—” he curses, seeing your tears, and quickly taking your hands into his, “y/n, ’m sorry, i—it’s just—i’m gonna be a horrible dad, ya know? i don’t know if i can do this, it’s like... i’m not very reliable ‘nd ma always said—”

“but,” you sniffle through your tears, “aren’t we doing this together?”

he nods slowly, and then moves to rest his head on your chest. he tentatively puts a hand on your stomach, rubbing his index finger over it as if it were foreign to him.

“yeah,” he agrees quietly, “we’re doing this together.”

— akaashi keiji

you knew akaashi hadn’t wanted a child, not yet at least. you knew that, and yet when he said okay the night you told him you were pregnant, you were naive enough to think that it was actually okay.

he works, all the time, very hard. it only made sense, he had told you he needed to, in order to get to where he wanted to be. but it left you many nights, belly and feet swollen, joints aching, alone on the couch, wondering what you were doing.

did you eat your vitamins? he asks softly every morning without fail. but that was it.

you went to doctor’s appointments alone, you shopped for baby clothes alone, and you stared at the empty four walls of the baby’s room alone. you were too afraid to buy furniture for it: it seemed too permanent, especially when being pregnant seemed like a repressed dream every day.

"keiji, ” you call out to him early one morning, before he can leave for work again, “...let’s not have the baby.”

he doesn’t respond and for a moment you can’t even tell if he heard you. but then he’s whipping his head around, as if he had just realized what you said, and scrambles to kneel at your side.

“what’s wrong?” he places a hand on your belly, right beside yours, like he never had, “are you feeling—”

“you’re never here!” you cry, wincing at your own screech, “i don’t want to do this alone, keiji. i can’t do this alone. the baby started kicking yesterday, you know? and you weren’t there. i didn’t even know what to do. i’m not gonna know what to do. god, we need a crib and a c-changing table, and—”

you stop when he lays his head down on your lap. 

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles faintly, his hot breath seeping through your shirt. the kitchen is silent with your sniffles. you’re so tired, from the pregnancy or everything else, but you tangle your fingers in akaashi’s hair, and it brings you just an ounce of comfort. it’s soft as always, just like it was when you had started dating.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, turning his head to the side to face you, letting your fingers drift over his cheek, “i was taking on more work, to save money for... for the baby. i hadn’t— ...i didn’t realize i was neglecting you, y/n.” 

 you look down, “y-you were what?” 

 “i took on a new author,” he tells you, “and i asked around for some freelance work. i think we’re okay financially, but you never know, so i thought it’d be good to have extra—”

“keiji,” you interrupt, voice scratchy, “were you nervous?” 

“well, yes,” he admits, leaning into your palm, “but that’s no excuse for leaving you all alone. i can drop the freelance, maybe move most of my work back home—” 

you smile, the familiar sound of akaashi overthinking things a buzz in your ears. you brush your thumb over the wrinkles between his eyebrows, tracing the lines on his face, recognizing the way his eyes tighten when he’s serious. he looks up at you. 

“do you want to come to the doctor’s with me on thursday?” you sniffle softly, smiling at him. 

“...yes,” he nods, almost like a reflex, but you can see him thinking again, his stare blanking. you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, placing them over your belly. the focus returns to his eyes and he looks reassured, finally smiling back at you. 

“yes,” he repeats, “i’ll come with you.”

[itgirlification]

supermodel (2) | jjk

your story with jungkook never seems to end, yet you’re still worried about how it’s gonna end.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: TOXIC (i cannot stress this enough shit is hella toxic), yn is kinda (very) dumb, jungkook is an actual asshole, borderline mental abuse, infidelity, more insecuritiiiies, mentions/hints of sex, etc.

part one part three

There you were in his arms again, with only your panties and his shirt on.

At this point, you couldn’t even explain yourself. You were guilty, but you know what they say; love hurts.

With his arms wrapped around you and you clinging to him like that, you couldn’t care less about what was gonna happen next. You knew you were probably gonna have a mental breakdown when you go back to the dorms but for now, you were okay.

After he came over that night, he contacted you again. He said he didn’t want this to be serious, he wanted it to be a solely sexual relationship.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve been with, who seems to like getting hurt and degraded”, he sighs against your hair. “Sometimes I feel like you can’t get enough of it.”

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do anyway? Tell him he’s right and stay like this for a while or react defensively and start an endless argument? You chose the first one.

“You’re the only woman that’d let me do all this stuff and still love me. Maybe that’s why I came back to you.”

Holding back the tears, you cling closer to his larger body, as if you were using him as some kind of shield. He thought you were an easy target and forgiving. What else would a man want from a woman he was only interested in fucking, a side piece? Even if she’s in love with him, she was gonna ignore that just to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s not like you actually came back.”, you responded, keeping your voice as stable as you could. “We’re just fucking.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, most likely noticing your petty undertone. “Don’t be like that. We aren’t fucking right now.”

You weren’t sure what point exactly he was trying to prove, you agreed to be his side chick. Did he think you didn’t know what a side chick was supposed to do? Because you did know, you just secretly thought you guys were meant to be, you weren’t just some side piece.

Looking around the motel room, your stomach began feeling weird. He wasn’t usually cheap, but you guessed he thought a side chick didn’t deserve a better environment than a cheap motel room rent for a night.

“Because we literally just did.”, you calmly said. You weren’t trying to piss him off.

But Jungkook wasn’t having it. Out of nowhere, he shoved you aside and put his hands over his face, noticeably frustrated.

“What happened?”, you weren't sure if asking that was the best option.

Jungkook turns his body to you. “What happened?? You keep on fucking me up and being a bitch about all this and you ask me what happened?”

He was so furious, his eyes were dark and his face was screwed up. You were now both standing, his tall figure towering over yours.

You saw his hand forming a fist and it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified. He hasn’t touched you once throughout your relationship, but you never know.

“I didn’t even say anything. Maybe you’re just a little too sensitive.”, you were pouring salt on a wound at this point, but you didn’t want to be weak and let him talk to you like that.

“Me, sensitive?”, his tone was dangerously serene, as he leaned closer to your face. “If I wasn’t here with you, you'd probably still be crying over me. And you know where I’d be? Laying in bed with the beautiful model I have the privilege to call my girlfriend. Yn, I don’t need you. Don’t get bold with me, ‘cause we both know who’s gonna be heartbroken in the end.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, what did you get yourself into again? This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, this wasn’t anybody’s fault but yours. You should’ve never opened up, you should’ve never said yes to being his side piece, you should’ve never been his girlfriend, to begin with. You stayed silent, but your loud sniffs and your uneven breathing said more than you could at the moment.

“I’m leaving.”, he announced coldly before throwing his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, leaving you half-naked, crying on the poor-quality motel bed you just had sex on. When he got out of the motel room, you looked outside of the small window, watching him leave in the car he drove you here with.

Now, you had no other option than to call Jane to pick you up since your dorm was a half an hour walk away from the motel and you didn’t have the energy to walk for even a minute.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy for all the questions Jane was gonna ask you when she sees your mascara smeared face and your messy hair. Not to mention the motel. You weren’t a motel type of girl and she knew that.

Still, you called her and she answered almost immediately. “Yn? What happened? I thought you were gonna sleepover at your parents’?”

Sleepover at your parents’ house? You had almost forgotten the bad lie you told Jane just to have sex with Jungkook in this cheap-ass motel. And to think you were convinced you two were gonna stay the whole night.

“Uh”, you quickly coughed to cover up the voice cracks you got from crying. “Yeah, it’s a long story, please pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

About 10 minutes later, Jane arrived and looked at you like you were out of your mind when you got into the car. “Yn, what the fuck? I was so worried about you. And this isn’t your parents’ house, this is a fucking motel. Did you meet a guy? Did he do something to you? Should I call the cops?”

“No, no, no, oh my god, please don’t”, you knew she was gonna ask a lot of questions. “I lied to you. So what actually happened was me and Jungkook reconnected an-“

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Jungkook. So I’m guessing he left you here?”

You hesitantly nodded.

“So when were you gonna tell me you ‘reconnected’ with him? When did you even ‘reconnect’ with him?”, she mockingly asked you. You weren’t blaming her for being pissed off, you’d have been too in this situation.

“A month ago? I think..”, you muttered.

“Hm”, Jane nodded, sighing at your naivety. “And when did he even break up with his model chick?”

You awkwardly looked away and Jane was hoping it wasn’t because of what she thought.

“He didn’t break up with her??”, Jane was beyond frustrated. “So.. you’re like his side chick now? Are we gonna stoop that low for men, yn?”

Jane always wanted the best for you and you knew she knew what was the best for you too, you were just too foolish. And too in love with a man you can’t force into loving you again.

“I know but please can we not talk about this right now? I just don’t feel like it.”, you asked, looking down on your fingers, ashamed of yourself.

“Alright, I’m sorry, babe.”, Jane hugged your side quickly, before starting the engine and heading back to the dorm. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”

You nodded, looking out of the window with your head full.

_

“Bella just texted me and said her birthday party will be 90s themed? Can’t she be a little more specific?”, Jane barged into the room, looking down on her phone in disbelief.

Bella was a person you two met at college in one of your shared classes. She was a sweetheart, but she was a little spoiled too. The only reason why she got into the college was that her rich daddy bribed them, but you couldn’t be mad, your parents would’ve done the same if they had the money.

She was extremely extroverted, a people person. She probably never had a boring day in her life with all the parties she threw whenever her dad and his 20 something-year-old girlfriend were on vacation or business trips. She even had some celebrity friends and would just casually post selfies with them on her Instagram story like it was a normal thing to do. She was basically living the dream, clueless about what real life for others really was about.

Jane had a love-hate relationship with Bella ever since they met. She thought Bella was a nice girl, but it was ‘unbearable’ to have a conversation with her because she was too self-centered to talk about anything else than herself.

You shrugged. “Just wear something Aaliyah would’ve worn.”

“Hm. Fair enough. It’s really not all that deep, actually.”, She said. “So what are you gonna wear?”

“I don’t even know if I’m going, Bella’s parties are boring.”, you answered honestly.

You really weren’t sure if you’d go. You did feel like seeing people and having a little fun but it wasn’t like you ever had fun at any of Bella’s parties. One time, a guy puked all over a new dress you bought just for the party, and another time, you were forced to drink 4 beer bottles. You hated beer.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun and you’re coming.”, she decided for you, making you playfully roll your eyes. “And wear that black latex dress, I haven’t seen it on you in forever.”

To say that Jane was a fashionista would be an understatement. She was too invested in fashion to be bothered with anything else.

“Alright, but only if we don’t stay for long.”, you tried to compromise with her.

She nodded. “We gotta buy her presents though. Is there even anything she doesn’t have?”

You sighed, annoyed. “C’mon, there’s gonna be at least 200 people at that party, it’s not like she’ll notice if we just don’t get her anything. Besides, she’s rich as fuck.”

Jane snickered at your comment. “Girl, you must not know her, she checks every damn person and probably throws them out if they don’t buy her a Chanel bag or something. Bitch is a little crazy.”

It was amusing because you both knew that was exaggerated. Bella wasn't that serious about gifts. But let’s just say, for the money that her dad had, she was a little too greedy.

But you were too bothered with your own life than to worry about other's.

_

As soon as you arrived at Bella’s mansion, two security guards were standing in front of the door. They let you in as you showed them your invitations. It was a little bit extra, but that’s just how Bella was.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell of sweat and weed. Already? You weren’t really surprised though.

Bella was standing there, wearing a skintight red dress that, ironically, didn’t really fit her own party’s theme. But she did look absolutely beautiful greeting her guests with the biggest smile on her glowing face. She had her strawberry blonde hair down in elegant beach curls and there were some cute butterfly clips placed in them.

You could recognize that it was her birthday from miles away. She was basically shining.

“Oh my god, Jane, Yn!! I’m so happy to see you guys!”, an overly keen Bella came, hugging you both with strength. “Oh, I see you got me something, girls you know you shouldn’t have!”

She tried hiding her smile at the bags in your hands, freeing the two of you from them immediately.

“It’s your birthday, Bella. We can’t just come here without any gifts, girl.”, Jane smiled. “Happy birthday.”

You looked to your side, admiring Jane’s acting skills. “Happy birthday, Bella! I can’t believe you’re 23 now.”

“I know right, if you were a year younger, you’d be as old as your dad’s girlfriend.”, Jane joked around, making Bella hysterically laugh.

“C’mon, almost everybody’s here already”, Bella excitedly pushed you towards the living room.

The room’s stench was even more unbearable than the one at the entrance, leaving you covering your nose for a second leaving out an ‘oof’.

The 90s trap music was heard extremely loudly through the whole house and there were people dancing and grinding. There were some couples that sat on one of the many couches, acting like they were in their own little world. It wasn’t very pleasant to watch, but you just chose to ignore it. The stench was something you couldn’t ignore though.

You were already bored out of your mind.

A few minutes of pure boredom and dry conversations passed then the music stopped playing and you could hear Bella’s voice calling for everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna open the presents now, so everybody come here and Daphne, please bring the gifts here so I can open them.”

Daphne was Bella’s personal maid. She never really talked, but she did everything she needed to. She brought all the bags to Bella one by one and you could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry out of happiness.

“Oh my god, Jackson”, She cried out as she pulled a pair of Saint Laurent shoes out of a box. “These are so beautiful. You even got the right size. Thank you so mu-“

“Bella, I’m so sorry we’re late, we had to run some errands”, a soft-spoken voice interrupted, making everybody in the room turn her way, just to see the charming model with none other than Jeon Jungkook by her side. Wow.

As soon as you turned your head to see who it was, you turned back around, looking at Jane to make sure she saw what you saw. You sent her a questioning, almost panicking look just for her to shrug.

“Yuki! It’s fine, girl. Come here, I’m opening my presents right now.”, The birthday girl exclaimed, making Yuki immediately hand her her gift.

Jungkook was just walking behind his girlfriend, making no type of noise whatsoever and you prayed he wouldn’t see you.

They sat down at an angle where you couldn’t help but look at them though and you were sure he looked at you for a split second as well. They looked beautiful together.

Bella just continued opening gifts and thanking everybody dearly, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You just zoned out for most of it. Those were a lot of gifts she got.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at your ex-boyfriend and the girl besides him.

She looked even cuter in real life. Her cheeks had a natural blush to them and her hair was long and healthy. She was thin and her skin tone was warm and even.

You’ve always been insecure about your hyperpigmentation, but she didn’t seem to have any problems with how she looked. She was near damn perfect. Perfect wasn’t real, but if it was, it’d be her.

Jungkook probably never had a problem introducing her to his parents or his friends. You always felt like he had difficulties with that while he was dating you. He just wasn’t confrontational enough to tell you he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

You seemed to be stuck in your place while everybody else was either dancing or making conversation.

Jane was sitting next to you, talking to a girl with blond box braids about a new movie that recently came out. You heard what they were saying, but it sounded like a foreign language to you since you weren’t focused.

“Yn? Are you okay?”, Jane whispered in your ear, hugging your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were invited.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jane. It’s not your fault, I just kind of wanna go home.”

She looked at you apologetically. “Can’t we stay for a little while? I promise it won’t take long, I’m just actually having fun here.”

You had to admit you were being selfish, not just in that moment, but whenever it came to Jungkook. You’ve dragged Jane through all of your shit and never really thought about how she must feel like.

Nodding in response to her. “I’m gonna get myself something to drink.”

You finally stood up from your place, looking around unsure, feeling like you’re taking up so much space wherever you go, even when you were doing absolutely nothing.

You wore the latex dress, but only because Jane insisted and made sure you knew you looked good. She convinced you for maybe a second, but all those insecurities were coming back. You tried sucking in your stomach the whole night, but it just wasn’t enough.

You were asking yourself all kinds of questions. If your arms looked too fat and if your cellulite was visible, if your hip-dips were as noticeable to others as they were to you. You felt like everybody was looking and they were judging really hard.

All you wanted was to fade into oblivion.

You were feeling his eyes on your back and god, you wanted to look too but you fought the urge, just continued walking to the bathroom. You weren’t in the mood to drink after all.

Your gut feeling was telling you he was following, but you ignored it.

Until you were about to close the bathroom door and you saw black timberlands stepping between the door and the doorframe to stop you from closing it.

You sighed, opening the door, resulting in him getting in the bathroom with you.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, the handsome man facing you asked, brown eyes looking deep inside of yours.

“How can I avoid you when you didn’t even try talking to me?”, you asked back, looking away immediately.

You hated how your relationship was just a cycle of him hurting you and coming back, acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he was so good at it too.

He chuckled darkly, letting his eyes glide down your body for a second just to look back into your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, yn. Don’t play dumb.”

You did know what he meant.

“And? It’s not like I have anything to say to you.”

Jungkook came closer to you, softly wrapping one arm around your waist, whispering in your ear. “You don’t?”

You couldn’t believe how shameless he was, being so close to you while his girlfriend was a few meters away, outside of this door, probably thinking he’s getting her a drink or something. You wondered if he did the same thing to you when you were dating.

“Jungkook, stop. Your girlfriend is here.”, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t want it. “How can you even do this?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before, princess.”, He kissed your earlobe. “You can’t possibly think it’s okay when she’s not around, but not okay when she is. It’s the same thing.”

You knew he was right, besides, you were just as guilty as he was. You were messing around with a taken guy and the worst part was, you knew he was taken and you still did it.

“I know, but I wanna end whatever this is”, you hesitated to say. “It’s unhealthy and you already have a girlfriend, why don’t you go and kiss her, why me?”

You were avoiding this conversation ever since this started. Sometimes it’s hard talking about things you don’t actually want to hear about.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook feigned confusion, but you knew better than to believe him. “It’s easier said than done, yn. We have a history together, you know that.”

“I do, but that’s all we are. History. And we should both get over it.”, you responded.

“But what if I don’t want to?”, it was more of a statement than a question, really. “What if I told you, you’re special to me?”

You were gonna have a meltdown if he continued with this. Why was he so fucking complicated? You knew he didn’t love you so what was it?

“But I’m not. The only reason why you come back is because you think I’m easy material. It’s because you were my first everything and it’s because you know exactly how much you mean to me.”, you cry out, tears coming up to ruin your makeup again. You wished you wouldn’t cry as much as you did. “You know I’ll always let you in, no matter what. I know I’m at fault too here and I’m not blaming you, but please for god’s sake, don’t make it worse on me.”

You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. You felt detached from reality, but not in a good way at all.

Jungkook scoffed, looking down at you. “I know I shouldn’t have tried talking to you. It’s like you can’t even appreciate anybody showing you affection. I’m trying to prove to you, that you aren’t nothing to me and that’s the response that I get. Not everybody’s against you, yn, you’re just too insecure to notice. That’s why you haven’t ever had anybody showing you interest. It’s because you lack confidence and think the world revolves around you. But I did show you interest. In the past and now. But look at you. You haven’t changed at all, still the little yn who compares herself to other girls and thrives off of male attention, because you can’t believe that somebody could love you just for you when there’s skinnier, prettier girls walking around. So what if there are skinnier, prettier girls around? That’s reality, yn.”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Looking at him with big, teary eyes, is that really what he thought of you? Of course, it was. Because it was the truth. The cold, hard truth. Not sugarcoated. He knew you better than you wanted him to.

Without a single word leaving your dry lips, you open the door and run out, ignoring him calling your name and the weird stares people were giving you. You needed to find Jane.

Once you found her joking around with a bunch of random people, you go up to her. You most likely looked like you came out of a horror movie.

“Yn? What the fuck happened?”, she lightly took your face in her warm hands and caressed your cheek worriedly.

“Pl- please, can we just go home?”, you whimpered, thankful that everybody was respectful enough to turn around and focus on their stuff instead of ogling at you.

“Sure, sure. Come here”, she took you in her arms and walked you out of the mansion, not caring to say goodbye to anybody.

_

people who wanted to get tagged in pt. 2:

@1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @chieftoadturkeynickel @madygswich @kb-bangtanenthusiast

thank you for the support love yall!! 💗

a/n: so i know most of yall probably wanted a happy ending but first of all this probably isn’t the ending:) and i wanted to portray it as realistically as possible. It’s really hard to get out of a toxic relationship especially when you’re so in love with them but i’ll see what i can do to make yn happy cuz girly’s going thru it. Btw this wasn’t proofread so there’s probably so many mistakes and i thought this was very underwhelming but i hope you guys like it thank you!

[nol-an]

when our stars aligned || n. patrick

hello everyone! i’m super excited to finally be posting this slow burn, friends-to-lovers fic that has been in the works for almost a month now!

grab a drink and some snacks, this one’s 12.5k words (and not proofread oops)! as always, feedback is appreciated <3 enjoy!

__________

+ her

Your sweater-clad figure collapsed into your plush mattress as soon as you finished your last assignment for the day. After a hell week of university, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your night de-stressing and indulging in the bottle of wine that had been calling your name since the beginning of the week. You wanted nothing more than to catch up on the Bachelorette —because who doesn’t love trash TV— and to coil yourself in blankets for the rest of the night. 

On the other hand, your best-friend-slash-roommate, Maya, had different plans. She was fully convinced that the only proper remedy to your school-induced slump was a night out on the town. However, you knew that Maya’s plans for you would really just result in you third-wheeling her and her boyfriend, Joel. You don’t even need to ask your friend to know that Joel would be coming along too because the two were a package deal. Although you don’t mind Joel and think he’s a wonderful match for your long-time friend, the last thing you need is to be awkwardly tagging along with the sometimes overly-affectionate couple.

After a back-and-forth negotiation that seemed to last hours, you finally agreed to Maya’s proposition after she offered to wash the dishes and take out the trash for the next two weeks. You still expressed that you wouldn’t be happy if you came across any Bachelorette spoilers while you were out with Maya and Joel, but eventually, your mind became occupied by thoughts of what to wear. Deciding not to think too much into your outfit, you settled for a Pittsburgh Penguins pullover and your comfiest pair of black jeans. You sprayed yourself with perfume and glanced in your mirror one last time before leaving your room with the hopes of returning to your tempting bed soon.

As Joel’s car pulled into the parking lot of your and Maya’s apartment complex, you soon noticed a figure in the passenger seat. Squinting to see if you recognized the man, all you could deduce was that he had long hair and florid cheeks. Turning to Maya in confusion, your best friend looked unbothered as a grin spread across her face at the sight of her boyfriend. You trailed behind her as she jogged towards Joel’s car. She promptly gave him a peck on his cheek before giving the stranger in the passenger seat a hug. Huh, so maybe he wasn’t a stranger after all.

It only took you a few seconds afterwards to realize what was going on.

You were going to kill Maya.

As if she read your mind, your best friend waved you over to the car. Deciding to play nice for the sake of Maya and her excitement, you plastered on your best I-don’t-want-to-be-here-but-you-don’t-know-that smile, and greeted the two guys.

“Y/N, this is Nolan, one of Joel’s friends,” Maya explained. “I know you said you didn’t wanna third wheel, so Joel and I, being the wonderful friends we are, took what you said to heart,” she laughed as she watched your smile twitch a little.

It always took you a while to warm up to strangers and being your best friend of three years, Maya knew you were going to give her an earful after the night was over. So, she figured she’d at least have some fun while she was at it. Your eyes sent daggers in her direction before you waved at Joel and stuck your hand out to greet Nolan.

Other than his small smile that you would’ve missed if you weren’t as observant, Nolan didn’t give much indication that he wanted to be here, either. Great. You couldn’t read his expressions, but you hoped to god that this night wouldn’t be as awkward as you think it’s going to be.

Shortly after the introductions, you and Nolan are squeezed into the back of Joel’s car as him and Maya bicker over who should get the aux. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Nolan, who looks quite amused at the couple’s antics. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to break the ice, you attempted to start a conversation with Nolan.

“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve been stuck in the same space as Joel and Maya, either?” you joked.

He chuckled and angled his body a little closer towards you. “Unfortunately it’s not. If I’m being honest, this is not how I envisioned my Friday night going.”

Immediately processing his own words, a blush formed across his cheeks. “I- that’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, but Joel told me that we were getting food with Maya. I didn’t know this,” he used his right hand to gesture around the car, “was his actual plan,” he explained.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips, your eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m in the same boat. No one mentioned that you were coming, but honestly, I’m glad I’m not third-wheeling because I wanna puke every time they get too lovey-dovey.”

Nolan nodded in agreement, “You know what, Y/N? I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Relieved that Nolan was a lot less intimidating than you initially thought, you agreed with his comment and thanked the gods that this night was starting to look up.

“But there is one issue,” Nolan spoke up.

Your raised eyebrows cued him to speak again.

“I don’t know how I feel about that Pens sweatshirt of yours.”

+ him

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” an amused Kevin Hayes emerged from his room. He’d been living with Nolan for quite some time now, but the last thing he expected was to wake up to the sight of his roommate organizing their apartment, dust swiffer and all. There was even a vase of fresh flowers that Kevin sure as hell didn’t buy or remember seeing last night.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious, Hayesy? I’m cleaning the place,” Nolan deadpanned.

“Ok firstly, no shit. I was hoping you’d explain why you’re cleaning. I didn’t even know we had this much cleaning supplies,” Kevin quipped back, glancing over at the array of window and wood cleaner that was haphazardly strewn across the kitchen counter.

“Y/N is coming over,” Nolan curtly responded. He didn’t need to turn his focus away from scrubbing away the stove top’s stains to know that his roommate had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I thought you said the two of you were just friends?”

“Can’t friends hang out?” Nolan retaliated.

“Sure, they can. But why are you disinfecting this whole place? Teeks comes over all the time and you never do this for him,” Kevin pointed out. He knew Nolan enough to know that you weren’t “just a friend.” Nolan talked about you way too much for that to be the case.

“It’s the first time she’s coming over. I just don’t want her thinking we live in a pigsty,” Nolan started, “which is gonna be a little difficult considering you leave your shit all around the place. Plus, don’t act like you’ve never cleaned the place up when you’ve had someone over.”

Kevin was having a little too much fun messing with Nolan. “Okay, first of all, that was one time. And it was for a girl I liked,” Kevin enunciated his last word.

Nolan knew Kevin had a point, but he’d be damned if he let Hayesy know that. Nevertheless, Nolan’s silence gave it away, and that was all Kevin needed to rest his case.

“Deny your feelings all you want, but I know you like her — even if you don’t even know it yourself. Don’t be surprised when I say ‘I-told-you-so,’” Kevin laughed as he headed towards the front door. “m’Gonna head out, but text me if you need anything. Maybe confess your feelings for Y/N while you’re at it.”

Nolan flipped off his roommate. Sometimes he was sure that Kevin was a middle-schooler trapped in a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t you and him be friends without feelings being involved? Nolan was sure you only saw him in a platonic light and he was perfectly fine with that. If anything, he was glad to have met you — in the few months you’ve been in his life, you’ve become a breath of fresh air from his circle of Flyers friends. Sure, he didn’t think the two of you would talk again after the little number that Maya and Joel pulled, but he was glad that his friendship with you bloomed. Not only was he glad to know someone else to tolerate Maya and Joel’s shenanigans with, but he enjoyed how you made him feel like he didn’t have to maintain any facade. Your welcoming aura appreciated Nolan as the goofy, indie music-obsessed Winnipeg native — not a Flyers centerman who was more often than not, under the microscope of Philly and NHL media. He was perfectly content with the friendship and appreciated the soothing presence you offered. Wasn’t that enough of an indication that the two of you were just friends?

Within the next twenty minutes, three knocks on the door vibrated through the apartment, and Nolan rushed to the door to greet you. A smile gleamed on your face and you greeted Nolan with a hug. Although it was your first time hanging out at Nolan’s place — the two of you usually stuck to more public locations — nothing about the exchange was awkward and for that, Nolan was extremely thankful. He knew his quiet demeanor could sometimes scare people away, but you didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, you were patient with him and understood that the two of you would become more comfortable around each other as time wore on.

After setting your bag down on the key table, you casually dove into a story about how you nearly couldn’t make it to Nolan’s apartment because you were convinced you lost your keys.

It was nice, nothing felt stiff and Nolan was relieved that the two of you were able to skip the formalities that usually occur when someone visits for the first time.

Once you wrapped up your story, you finally took the chance to look around Nolan’s home. From the look on your face, Nolan knew you were expecting the place to look different. Whether or not that look was a good thing, however, he wasn’t sure.

“Nols, if I’m gonna be honest here, I was not expecting you and Kevin to have such an organized place,” you laughed, your light-hearted tone indicating that you meant it in the nicest way possible.

Releasing the breath he was holding, Nolan chuckled a bit. “Well, don’t get used to it. It’s only this clean like once a month,” he laughed while scratching the back of his neck. He almost contemplated telling you all the trouble he went through to make sure the apartment was clean for you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him not to. Probably a good call. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yea, water would be great,” you sat on one of the kitchen’s bar stools and watched Nolan pad over to the fridge. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as you peered into the relatively empty fridge.

The hockey player rolled a chilled water bottle over to you, perplexed by your reaction. “If you have something to say, say it to my face,” Nolan attempted to intimidatingly say. His cheery voice and sheepish smile gave away his tough-guy act, though.

“Just wondering how you have like three things in your fridge. What are you supposed to make with two carrots and eggs?” you chuckled.

Nolan feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that my ultra-busy schedule doesn’t let me go grocery shopping much. You should be honored that I was able to fit you into my agenda.” It wasn’t a lie that time didn’t permit Nolan to go shopping for food often, but he knew that if you wanted to hang, he would’ve found a way to make it work. But that’s normal, right? Friends can be excited to hang out with friends, right?

“So I’m guessing your pantry is just as bad?” you inquired.

“Ever the detective, Y/N,” Nolan confirmed. He opened the pantry door, gesturing to the several empty shelves.

Seconds later, the two of you got into a conversation about your favorite snacks. Nolan wasn’t sure how he found so much entertainment from talking about cookies and chips, but he wasn’t complaining. The discussion eventually moved over to the living space of the apartment, where you and Nolan settled on watching “How to Get Away With Murder” before promptly resuming your increasingly-heated debate on the best snacks.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore, Nols. How could you possibly like goldfish more than cheez-its?” you seriously questioned.

“They’re the superior snack, can’t do anything about that. That’s like asking me to choose between indie and country music, no competition,” Nolan shrugged.

Promising Nolan that you’d one day convince him otherwise, you let the conversation slowly fade out as the show started. The next few hours passed by in a blur. There were some side-conversations here, and there, but the two of you were mainly focused on the show and enjoying each other’s presence.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you and Nolan started sharing the same blanket. Minutes later, you were curled into his side, your head resting lightly on his right shoulder. You were so close to him that you could feel his body rumble with laughter every time you made a witty comment. Despite the position the two of you were in, things didn’t go further than that. You didn’t think much of it and based on Nolan’s concentration on the show, it didn’t seem like he gave it much thought, either.

It was nice. More than nice, really. You became so comfortable that you had to keep yourself from dozing off. Every once in a while, Nolan’s hand would play with your hair, his gentle movements nearly lulling you to sleep.

Eventually, you two found a good stopping point and you told Nolan that you should start heading home, not wanting to overstay your visit. Although Nolan protested, you insisted that you would definitely find another time to see him soon and that he should hang out with Kevin, who had gotten home just a few minutes ago.

“Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Yea, of course. Don’t watch any episodes without me, okay?” you said, sticking out your pinky to make Nolan promise.

“Only if you bring over some of your homemade chocolate-chip cookies that you talked about earlier,” he bargained.

“Deal,” you waved goodbye to Nolan one last time before slipping out the door. “Tell Hayesy I said hi,” you hollered from down the hall.

Speaking of the devil himself, Kevin walked over to Nolan once he shut the door. Before Kevin could even wipe the smirk off his face, Nolan stopped him.

“Just friends, Hayesy,” Nolan reaffirmed.

+ him

Another few months passed on, and everything proceeded as normal. You and Nolan’s bond inevitably grew, and he could confidently call you one of his best friends. You two made an effort to hang out at least every other week, and your plans ranged from short weekend getaways to study sessions where Nolan attempted to help you cram for tests. Nolan loved every second he spent with you, and he was more than grateful that Maya and Joel had introduced you to him. Eventually, the hang-out regimen that you and Nolan had developed started wavering as the universe had different plans for you two. You had totally forgotten about a major ten page paper you had to do and with the season starting soon, Nolan was back to practices and workout sessions nearly every day.

You two texted and FaceTimed, though, so not all was a lost cause. Especially for Nolan, it felt as if he was spending every minute of his free time talking to or texting you — not that he minded it, anyway. The text conversations were always light-hearted and mostly consisted of funny tweets and song recommendations. Even when you and Nolan called, your minds that were typically flooded with thoughts of school or hockey became more relaxed upon hearing the other’s voice.

After wrapping up a morning skate with Travis, Nolan checked his phones for any notifications.

Hayesy: Y/N is here. Not sure why but she was looking for you.

With panicked eyes, Nolan tried to think of all of the reasons why you’d be at his apartment. The blood nearly drained out of his face at the thought of making plans with you and accidentally forgetting, but he reassured himself that there was no way that was the case.

Is she okay???? Nolan quickly texted before running into the showers.

Nolan had never showered and changed that quickly, and he was almost positive that he put his shirt on backwards as he ran to his car. He mentally cursed Kevin, who for some reason thought it was acceptable to send him a cryptic text about you without any follow-up. You were usually good about texting Nolan about any updates to your life, so Nolan couldn’t help when his mind started conjuring worst-case scenarios.

Once Nolan got to his apartment complex, he sprinted up dozens of flights of stairs thinking that they’d be faster than the elevator. However, coupled with his growing soreness from his earlier workout, each step on the stairs sent rays of pain through his legs and a regret for thinking the stairs would be a good idea.

After it felt like he had run a marathon, the hockey player finally reached his door. He frustratingly searched for his keys, hoping to god you were okay.

Nolan swung the door open with so much force that he was almost sure he’d have to tighten the screws on its hinges. “Y/N?” Nolan called. His frantic eyes searched for your figure, but he was instead met with the sight of his roommate.

“You just missed her,” Kevin replied from the kitchen. In his hand was what looked like a cookie, and behind him was at least three grocery bags. “I told her to stay because I figured you’d be home soon, but she seemed like she was in a rush. Something about a paper she had,” Kevin elaborated, his mouth full of the cookies. “Did you run here from the rink or something? You look like shit,” Hayesy jokingly noted.

Nolan rolled his eyes at his roommate and sighed, genuinely relieved to know that you were alright. As soon as any of the fears of you being hurt left his system, Nolan started thinking about how he would’ve been able to see you had Travis not persuaded him to run extra drills. It had felt like centuries since he last saw you, and seeing you even just for a second would have undoubtedly made his day better. Dammit, Travis.

Deciding he didn’t want to endure any of Kevin’s teasing, Nolan suppressed his disappointment and tried to subtly get more details out of his roommate.

“She didn’t text me about coming over. What did she need?”

“Well, after making fun of us for our empty fridge and pantry, she said gave me all of these bags,” Kevin gestured to the bags behind him. “Said she visited a grocery store nearby and figured she could get some stuff for us, too,” he continued.

A smile graced Nolan’s face as he recalled the conversation you and he shared about his grocery shopping (or lack thereof) habits.

“She also brought over these cookies she made, but I think I’m gonna have to take these for myself,” Kevin grinned, reaching for another cookie from the tupperware container. “Why do my ‘just-friends’ never bake me cookies?” he nearly moaned at the taste of the treats.

“Maybe because you have no restraint and eat cookies that are meant for your roommate, you jerk,” Nolan remarked.

“Hey, I was being nice by telling you she brought these cookies over. If I really wanted to, I could’ve hid these. You can have a bite, though,” he stuck out his already half-eaten cookie in front of Nolan’s face.

Flipping Kevin off, Nolan walked over to the counter with the bags. Pulling out their contents, he slowly started placing everything in the pantry and fridge. In the second bag, he found a box of cheez-its with a small piece of paper tacked on the top.

Doing you a favor by buying you these, no need to thank me. Miss ya lots <3

Under the message, your name was messily etched onto the lined paper along with a smiley face. Nolan could almost hear your feigned-snarkiness through your note.

Once all of the groceries were put away, Nolan returned to his room. He immediately plugged in his phone before pressing your name under his FaceTime contacts. It only took a couple of rings before you picked up. Your hair was in a loose ponytail, large glasses covering your face. You looked exhausted from the stress you were undoubtedly experiencing because of your soon-to-be-due paper, but your positive personality radiated through Nolan’s phone screen nonetheless.

“Should I feel guilty that my snack collection was so pathetic that a busy college student felt compelled to take time out of their day to buy me food?” Nolan joked.

“I felt guilty that we had been friends for months before I found out that your pantry was that pathetic,” you laughed. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. I was in the area and I know you’ve been super busy recently so I figured I could help you out. The cheez-its were the first thing I saw in the store and I thought of you and that conversation we had when I came to your place for the first time,” you sheepishly responded.

Every few seconds, your eyes would dart back to your laptop, where you were taking notes. Nolan knew that you would never want him to think that he was calling you at a bad time, but the laptop’s reflections on your glasses gave away your act. Of course he felt bad, but he was momentarily distracted by the warm feeling that overcame him. It was such a sweet gesture, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t get butterflies at the sound of your confession.

“Y/N you didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it. Thanks for the cookies, too. Pretty sure Hayesy destroyed half of the container before I even got home,” Nolan laughed.

“Oh, gosh,” you started, “in hindsight I probably should’ve texted you to let you know I was coming over, but I wanted to surprise you.”

Upon hearing you words, Nolan’s beaming smile grew impossibly wider. And to his dismay, the butterflies came back for a second time.

“Hey, I gotta go but I promise I’ll text you soon. My prof is out for blood with this assignment,” you groaned. “Maybe we can do dinner at your place now that you have more than two things in your fridge.”

Nolan laughed off your banter and nodded in agreement. He felt like a giddy school girl. “Yea, yea of course. We can pick up on ‘How to Get Away With Murder’ while we’re at it.”

“It’s a date,” you flashed him a thumbs up. “Oh, and I think your shirt’s on backwards,” you giggled and tugged at the collar of your own sweater to emphasize your point. Luckily for Nolan, you hung up before you could see his embarrassed expression.

Had it not been for the fact that you called your upcoming plans with Nolan a “date,” he would have cared more about his shirt issue. But, here he was laying in his bed and already counting down the days until he’d get to see you again.

He knew you meant it as a friend date, but could you blame him for envisioning what it’d be like to go on a romantic date with you? He wanted to bake homemade cookies with you, run his fingers through your hair when you were stressed from school, and become consumed in pointless conversations about anything and everything with you. Hell, he even wanted to help you proofread your school papers, even if he’d have no idea what the fuck the Pygmalion Effect is. He adored so many things about you and was more than willing to jump through hoops and hurdles if it meant he could be your source of happiness and support.

And that’s when Nolan knew he was in trouble. He had never let his mind drift this far, and he usually had enough self-restraint to stop himself from envisioning you as his girlfriend. He knew he needed to stop before he dug a hole for himself that he wouldn’t be able to get out of. But if he was being honest, Nolan quite liked the warm feeling he had from the thought of calling you his.

Oh god.

Nolan was so far gone for you. Kevin knew it, his teammates probably knew it from the dozens of times he managed to bring you up in conversations, and now he certainly knew it for himself. What he didn’t know, however, was if you felt the same feeling of anticipation in the pit of your stomach at the thought of being more than just friends.

+ her

After your FaceTime call with Nolan, you finally gathered enough motivation to finish your paper. You weren’t sure if it was because of your excitement to see Nolan or because you were sick of staring at your screen, but you were nonetheless relieved when you sent off the finalized version of your work.

The two of you eventually settled on meeting at his place on Saturday night, which was only a couple of days away.

If you were being frank with yourself, you knew that you were catching feelings for Nolan, but how could you not? He has immaculate music taste, is a great listener, and always knows the best ways to make your off-days better. Not long after you met him for the first time, you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long for you to want a more-than-friends relationship with him. In fact, it was frightening to acknowledge how much better your life has been now that Nolan is involved. You were a little embarrassed that he was able to sweep you off your feet as quickly as he did, but you couldn’t control how you felt. Well, that’s at least what you kept telling yourself.

You weren’t entirely sure how to deal with your feelings for Nolan. You relied on familiarity and stability in your life, and if Nolan didn’t reciprocate your feelings towards him, there was no doubt all hell would break loose — at least for you. Per every rom-com you’ve ever watched, you were fully aware that unrequited feelings, in most cases, was a one-way ticket to a doomed and awkward friendship. If confessing your feelings towards an indifferent Nolan meant that your friendship with him would be jeopardized, you would gladly keep your thoughts to yourself.

It was hard, though. Sometimes he treated you like you were the only person in the room, and other times, it felt pretty clear that he only saw you in an extremely platonic light. Of course none of your friends could tell the difference between your interactions with the centerman because they always teased the two of you about needing to finally date each other. However, his mixed-signals convinced you that you had a chance with him on some nights and that you were overthinking everything the next.

As much as you wanted to tell Maya about your dilemma, you knew that she was terrible at keeping secrets. In any other circumstance, you would’ve told her that you liked someone the minute you found out. However, considering how her boyfriend’s a teammate of Nolan, it would have been game over if Joel knew. As much as he prided himself on having a tighter seal on secrets than Maya, he wasn’t much of an improvement from your best friend. You considered telling your other friends because you desperately needed someone to vent-out your feelings to, but you didn’t have the energy to explain how you ended up being wrapped around the fingers of a Philadelphia Flyers player.

So, here you were, in bed and confused. You were counting down the days until you’d get to see Nolan again, but you also wish you had more time to figure out what to do about your feelings. Part of you told you that you could handle pushing away your emotions for the few hours you would be with Nolan. The other (and more obnoxious) part of your brain, though, sent blaring red sirens through your body at the thought of your Plan A. It warned you that internalizing your feelings was a terrible idea and that no matter how tempting it would be to pretend like you weren’t falling for Nolan, maybe it’d be better to just rip off the bandaid and tell him.

You went back and forth between your two plans and were sure that if anyone could take a look into your brain, they would be faced with thoughts that were racing around at a million miles per hour. (And they’d probably  have pity on you.)

As if someone was witnessing your inner turmoil fetter within you in real time, it seemed like your prayers for more time were answered when you fell ill with a cold Saturday morning.

Sure, it wasn’t ideal. You sure as hell were not enjoying your congestion and occasional chills, but at least you had plenty of time to sort things out. It was disappointing to know that you wouldn’t get to see Nolan, but he was extremely understanding of your issue. He reassured you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for bailing, especially since you were sick. He even made you promise that you would get plenty of rest and that you wouldn’t apologize for something you couldn’t control.

With those words from Nolan, you took your promise to heart and slipped into a much-needed slumber.

+ him

“So, Patty, care to explain to Teeks what you were planning to use these candles for?” Hayesy teased as he plucked a tealight candle from its spot on the kitchen table.

Kevin knew you and Nolan had made plans for dinner, and he also happened to know that Nolan finally came to terms with his feelings for you. As much as he chirped the younger hockey player, he was glad that Nolan wasn’t beating around the bush anymore. Kevin adored you and had no doubt that you were a perfect match for his friend.

Travis, on the other hand, looked extremely confused. With furrowed eyebrows, he shifted his focus from the television to Nolan, who was sending death glares at his roommate.

“Well, I, um-” Nolan was cut off by Kevin.

“Patty here was gonna have a super-romantic, candle-lit dinner with the girl he’s been pining over for ages,” Kevin excitedly cut to the chase. If a bystander didn’t know any better, they’d think that Kevin was more ecstatic about the dinner than Nolan.

Those words definitely caught Travis’ attention. He got up from his spot from the couch and joined his two friends in the kitchen. “Wow, Pats,” he playfully shoved his friend's shoulder, “took you long enough. Was fully convinced I was gonna have to do something about your weak game.”

Nolan’s eyes widened upon hearing TK’s comments. Was he really that obvious?

He could barely comprehend his feelings for you just a couple of days ago, and he definitely didn’t tell Travis about these newly-discovered feelings yet. He didn’t even plan to tell Kevin about it. He fully intended to have you be the first to know, but Kevin managed to get Nolan to crack.

“Ok, fuck off,” Nolan mumbled. Sure, he was a little slow at realizing his feelings, but better late than never. “Y/N was supposed to come over for dinner tonight, but she’s sick,” Nolan explained. He purposefully left out the fact that he was toying with the idea of confessing his feelings for you after the now-cancelled dinner.

“Oh shit,” Travis was the first to speak up.

“Does that mean you’ll be cooking for us instead?” Kevin added, wiggling his eyebrows towards Nolan and fist-bumping Travis.

“No, I don’t know what it means, but I can tell you right now that there is no way in hell I’m cooking for you two slobs.” Nolan replied. “I was thinking of bringing soup over to her place as a surprise or something.”

At that, both Travis and Kevin’s faces told Nolan that they needed him to elaborate.

“What? She told me that she was craving soup, and Maya is on that road trip with Joel so I figured…” Nolan’s voice gradually decreased in volume.

Travis was the first to interject, “I, for one, think that’s a great idea. Gotta roll with the punches, you know?”

Of course, no conversation between the three guys would be completed without Kevin’s incessant teasing. “We can barely tolerate you when we’re fully healthy — what makes you think Y/N is gonna want to see you while she’s sick?” he chuckled.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Nolan groaned.

“You know you love me,” Hayesey playfully blew a kiss in Nolan’s direction. “Here, let TK and me help you with the soup. We gotta make sure it doesn’t make Y/N feel worse than she already does,” he suggested.

+ him & her

Staying true to his words, Kevin made sure Nolan’s attempt at making homemade soup went smoothly. After getting a thumbs-up from both of his teammates, Nolan filled some soup containers up and headed over to your place. He opted out from texting you about his arrival just in case you were sleeping and banked on the possibility that you still had a spare key under the small flower pot in front of your door.

Although Nolan nagged you for the key placement and insisted that it was a terrible hiding place for a key, he was grateful that it was still there when he arrived to your apartment’s door. Quietly letting himself in, he set the soup on the kitchen island before softly calling your name.

He quietly treaded to your room, which he’d only been in twice out of the dozens of times he had come over. Once he poked his head into your bedroom, he couldn’t stop his heart from overflowing with adoration for you. You were swaddled in a mountain of pillows and blankets. Your soft snores flowed through the room, and your messy hair partially covered your content face. You looked like you were at peace, and Nolan was glad to see that you were resting up.

The sight of you filled him with joy and he silently thanked his past-self for not calling and waking you up. Snapping himself out of his trance, Nolan had to remind himself that he was probably being extremely creepy. You probably wouldn’t let him live it down if you caught him, and he knew he wouldn’t have any excuse for his compromising position. Well, other than the fact that he was hopelessly falling for you and that everything you did made his feelings for you increasingly clear.

With it being close to dinnertime, Nolan figured that it wouldn’t be much longer until you woke up. He returned back into the living space of your apartment and found a comfortable place on the suede couch as he waited.

Sure enough, 15 minutes later, you emerged from your bedroom. “Nolan?” you softly murmured. The two syllables were coated in drowsiness, and Nolan swore he would’ve done anything to hear you utter his name like that again.

He looked up from his phone and suddenly had to remind himself how to breathe.

You were wrapped in a wool blanket, but a sliver of your sweater peaked out from the part where your blanket couldn’t fully cover. He’d recognize the black and orange pattern anywhere, but what stuck out to him was the “19” that was spread across the corner of your sweatshirt. Well, it was actually his sweatshirt if he wanted to get technical. His heart was beating out of his chest at the sight of you wearing his clothes and if he wasn’t sure if he was falling in love with you before, he was definitely sure now.

“I-, hi, Y/N. M’sorry for coming over like this, but I knew you said you wanted soup, and my mom has the really great chicken noodle soup recipe, and Teeks and Hayesy even helped me even though I’m not really sure if that was the best idea because Teeks almost mistook cinnamon for cayenne but-” Nolan started to ramble. He wasn’t sure why he was so flustered. It was the first time he’d gone out of his way this much for a girl and he was subconsciously stalling just in case you might’ve perceived his act of kindness as something that was way too creepy and something that supposed just-friends don’t do.

“Nols,” you started, “that’s so sweet of you, but you didn’t have to do that! I could’ve just sent for an UberEats so you wouldn’t have had to go through all of that trouble for me.”

Nolan wanted to stop you and let you know that he’d swim across the Atlantic Ocean for you. However, he settled for something a little less revealing. “Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise I wanted to do this. Plus if I didn’t, how would I have gotten to see you wearing my number?” he smirked.

Your gaze slowly descended to your body, where you were in fact wearing Nolan’s sweater. He forgot to take it home the last time he was over at your place, and you couldn’t help that it looked extremely comfy. A rush of blood and warmth flooded through your face. “I started wearing it because I missed you and it smells like your cologne,” you cringed for including that last detail, “but it’s actually so soft and I don’t think I’ll be returning this,” you tightened the blanket around you to emphasize your point.

Were you trying to kill Nolan? His brain was overloaded with emotions and this was probably the nail in the coffin. This was it for him. In the few seconds following your explanation, he knew he’d do everything in his power to get to see you like this for the rest of his life. He was sure a younger version of himself would’ve laughed at him for being so dramatic, but he also knew that his younger-self hadn’t met you yet.

“You pull off the sweater better than I do, so you can keep it,” he cheekily smiled. His eyes couldn’t decide if they’d rather look at your sleep-pampered face or his sweatshirt that engulfed you.

“What rom-com movie did you pull that line from?” you chuckled.

He dramatically gasped, “I’m truly offended.” He also took note of how you’ve been standing in the same place for minutes, “Also, why are you standing so far away? Promise I don’t bite,” Nolan joked while he reached out in your direction with grabby hands.

“I don’t wanna get you sick. Don’t know how your coach would feel if you caught the cold with the season so close,” you reasoned with a playful tone.

“That’s a later problem. Please c’mere, I missed you too much,” his eyes pleaded with yours. How could you say no when he had that look on his face?

You hesitatingly approached Nolan, still trying to keep your distance from him. You genuinely didn’t want to get him sick, but you were also still deciding about whether or not you wanted to bury away your feelings for him or let him know what was on your mind. You weren’t expecting Nolan to come over, and you were now wishing that you spent some of your snooze time on sorting out your Nolan dilemma.

Taking a few strides forward, you reached the coffee table that was only a meter or so away from Nolan. Apparently that distance was still too far for Nolan, though, because he grabbed for your hand and tugged you into his body. His scent instantly overcame your senses and you promptly relaxed into his hold. Your body was awkwardly positioned over his but his tight grip on you, which shifted down to your hips, gave no sign that Nolan wanted you to get off of him. With this signal, you repositioned yourself so each of your legs found a home on either side of his lap. His arms wrapped around your body, and your chest was pressed against his as you nuzzled your head between the junction of his neck and shoulder.

For a while, neither of you said anything. It was a serene moment and truthfully, neither of you needed to exchange words to express how much you both cared for one another. There was no better way to make up for lost time than to fully appreciate the other’s presence, and neither of you were in a rush to get out of the situation that you two were in.

Occasionally, Nolan would pepper kisses along your hairline and twirl your hair along his fingers. Praying that you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating, he tried his best to calm the thoughts that were incessantly running through his mind. Nolan never wanted this delicate moment to end for multiple reasons. Perhaps the biggest reason, though, was because he was trying to formulate the right way to tell you how he felt about you. He wasn’t sure if he’d find a more perfect time than this one, and he wanted to make sure that everything he was going to say to you would properly express how much he cared for you and wanted you in his life as a more-than-friend.

Another few moments passed before he finally mustered up the courage to break the silence.

“I love you,” he breathed out.

He waited for your response, but was only met with a deafening silence. Unfortunately for Nolan, he never got to see your reaction to his confession because your drowsy state seemed to pull you into another sleeping trance just as quickly as Nolan spoke the three words.

+ her

Following the night that Nolan had come over to bring you soup, the two of you became a lot more physically affectionate. Whether it was cuddles on your couch or hugs that lingered for a little too long, you knew you were chartering into dangerous territory. You didn’t treat any of your guy friends in the same way you did Nolan, and somewhere along the road, you knew this shift in dynamic was precariously dancing between the line of platonic and romantic.

Maya and Joel picked up on it, too. Nearly every chance they got, the two attempted to get you or Nolan to finally confess that things had changed. They were never successful, however. Nolan would always brush off Joel’s inquiries and play off the situation. As for yourself, you ultimately decided to keep your feelings to yourself, too scared to lose the special connection you had with Nolan.

You had done a decent job of keeping your feelings locked away in the depths of your heart until the season opener for the Flyers.

Nolan had asked you to go, and as much as you would love nothing more than to root on your best friend, you were called into work at the last minute. You tried your best to see if any of your other co-workers could pick up the shift, but you were stuck watching the game from your phone as you begrudgingly got through your shift. You couldn’t forget the way Nolan’s excited expression fell after you told him you couldn’t make it and even though your shift was scheduled to end during the game’s third period, there was no way you would have made it to the Wells Fargo Center in time.

After your shift, you took out your phone and swiped through your friend’s SnapChat stories. Since Maya went to the game to support Joel, you had the apartment to yourself. Clicking on your best friend’s name on the app, you smiled as you watched the video that she’d put on her story. The Flyers clinched their first win for the season, and based on Maya’s story, it looked like everyone had gone to a nearby bar to celebrate. Despite the fact that her story was a video of Joel, that’s not what caught your attention.

Instead, it was the sight of a man in the background, his arms draped around a girl who was cozily perched upon his lap. His chin was resting on her shoulder, and you knew from the unmistakable rosy cheeks that the man was Nolan. Although the image lasted no more than a few seconds as the frame of Maya’s camera moved, you suddenly felt yourself become nauseous. Your fingers moved by themselves, torturing you as you watched the video over and over again to make sure you weren’t playing mind games on yourself.

You weren’t sure how to react. A mix of hurt and jealousy swarmed your body, sending shivers of confusion through it. You knew you had no right to be so upset. After all, Nolan and you never had a conversation about where you two stood. You two were still just friends — even though you’ve known for a while that your interactions with Nolan have meant much more to you than you’d let on. For all you knew, you could have been mistaking Nolan’s physical affection for something more. For all you knew, the physical affection never made Nolan’s heart beat race in the same way it did with yours.

Nolan wasn’t yours, but you so badly wish he were. You became increasingly frustrated at yourself for letting your heart believe that there was something more between you and Nolan. You knew you were playing a risky game — a game that you had just lost, because it became painfully apparent that Nolan only ever saw you as a friend. The video continued to play, though your clouded vision and mind drowned out its volume. A teardrop slipped down your heated cheeks and pattered onto your phone screen. You berated yourself with what-ifs, wondering if you could have done anything different to be able to call Nolan yours. Maybe it was never meant to be, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t beat yourself up over the situation.

Ditching your plans to immediately sleep after getting home from work, you made a beeline to the kitchen’s wine cabinet. You now let your tears run freely and let yourself drown in affliction. You didn’t even flinch when Maya and Joel entered the apartment, who both rushed to you with concern after they noticed your tear-splotched shirt and face that was swollen and red from crying.

Not used to seeing their typically calm and collected friend in such a state of disarray, the couple wasn’t quite sure how to approach the issue. For what felt like the first time in forever, you decided to be transparent with your thoughts. You had spent so long compartmentalizing your feelings that the need to let them out and the countless glasses of wine had you admitting your feelings for Nolan to the two. You didn’t want their pity, and you were thankful that they let you speak without interruption. Your words, though slurred, clearly explained how you felt foolish for falling for Nolan in the first place. You explained how your friendship with Nolan had evolved into something much more for you and how you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t love him as more than just a friend anymore.

At the end of your spiel, Maya and Joel shared a knowing look with each other. Maya looked like she was fuming, though she tried her best to maintain composure as she pulled you into a hug. You almost missed the way Joel cursed under his breath, calling Nolan an idiot. They were so sure Nolan had felt something towards you, and weren’t sure how to respond when you drunkenly asked what you did wrong for Nolan to be oblivious to the way that you only had eyes for him.

As much as they loved Nolan, they adored you just as much and felt terrible for the pain that you were going through.

Apparently not terrible enough to postpone movie nights, however. Some time down the road, you, Nolan, Maya, Joel, Travis, and Kevin made a habit of gathering for a few hours each week to watch movies and hang out. You almost forgot about it in your moping state until Maya brought up a few days later that it was your and Maya’s turn to host. The blood drained out of your face when she reminded you, and your first instinct was to come up with an excuse to miss the night at all costs. You didn’t want to ruin the budding tradition, but you weren’t ready to see Nolan either.

As much as it hurt to still be in contact with Nolan, the thought of cutting him off hurt just as much. So, you subjected yourself to the heartache of talking to someone as if you weren’t enamored with. After the night of your break down, Nolan tried texting and calling you as usual. Although you weren’t ignoring him, you kept your texts brief and the phone calls even shorter. You felt bad for creating a wall between you and Nolan, especially since he wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He often asked what was on your mind, but you typically brushed it off and churned out a half-true excuse about being busy with school before cutting your conversations with him short.

Maya understood your discomfort with the situation, and offered to call off the movie night. You quickly objected, not wanting to ruin the night for the others just because you were battling your own demons. You told her that the movie night could go on at your shared apartment, and that you would find something to keep you out of the house for a while.

Your escape from the apartment came in the form of Austin, a boy from your psych class. Although you two didn’t speak to one another much, his kind eyes and bashful smile always led you to gladly agree whenever he’d asked to sit in the open spot next to you in the lecture hall.

One day, after you offered your notes to him for a day he missed, he offered to take you out for dinner in return. Although you were hesitant at first, you couldn’t think of any cons that would weigh out the opportunity for a free meal and spending a few hours with the charming boy. Plus, he had mentioned that he was a transfer student from out of state, and you knew how much you would have appreciated a few friends from school when you first moved to the city. Ultimately agreeing to his proposition, you gave him your number and scheduled the dinner for the same night and time as the movie night.

When the night of your plans with Austin came around, you made sure to leave your apartment before the guys were coming over. Because you felt guilty for skipping on the movie night, you attempted to help Maya set up the snack. However, Maya insisted that you shouldn’t keep Austin waiting and that she could handle the food herself. When you told her about Austin, she was ecstatic for you. She knew how difficult the past week has been for you and nearly screeched with excitement when you told her that you had actual plans for the weekend.

She gave you a hug and reminded you to call her if you were in an emergency before practically pushing you out of the door.

+ her

The night with Austin went better than planned, and you genuinely enjoyed yourself. Not wanting to give Austin any false impressions, you made sure that the night was strictly platonic. Luckily for you, Austin was incredibly understanding. Although you didn’t miss the look of slight disappointment on his face when you told him that you weren’t interested in being anything more than friends, he respected your decision and upheld his offer for dinner.

Quickly, you found out that you two had a similar sense of humor. Austin was easy to talk to and eventually, you opened up to him about Nolan. You nearly apologized for doing so — you weren’t planning to drop your baggage on a boy that you barely knew. However, Austin was surprisingly good at giving advice and even recounted some of his own stories about unreturned feelings. It was nice to be able to talk to someone that could relate to you.

Knowing that Nolan was at your apartment, Austin suggested that you two get dessert and explore the city to make sure that the hockey player would be gone before you got home. At first, you turned down his idea, jokingly arguing that he didn’t have to spend his whole Saturday night with you out of pity. In spite of your protests, Austin promised that he wanted to continue spending time with you and didn’t mind the idea of getting ice cream.

You didn’t return home until it was nearly midnight. You were sure that the boys would have already headed home, since they had a morning skate the next day.

Opening the door, you were shocked to see that everyone was still in the apartment, eyes occupied on the Marvel movie on the television. Your eyes immediately landed on Nolan’s figure, and you contemplated your next actions.

Settling on trying to go unnoticed by the group, you tried your best to discreetly enter your home and head to your room. With everyone's backs turned away from you, you almost made it to your room safely.

You were so close until your keys loudly fell onto the floor as you tried to remove them from the lock. Instantly, everyone’s heads turned to the front door. Someone turned on the living room’s lights, and you became uncomfortably aware of everyone’s attention on you.

You flashed them a smile, and Maya was the first to speak.

“How was your date?” she slyly questioned, making sure that everyone in the room heard her.

You raised an eyebrow at her question. Maya knew that the night with Austin wasn’t a date. However, the way she glanced at Nolan reminded you that he and the other guys, for that matter, didn’t know that. Not wanting to entertain whatever plan she was brewing in her mind, you tried not to acknowledge her question, flashing her a nervous smile.

“You ditched us for a date?” Travis gasped incredulously, clenching his hand above his heart for the added dramatic effect.

“Is that why the cookies were weird? I knew something was wrong with them when I nearly broke a tooth trying to eat one,” Hayesy laughed as an embarrassed Maya threw a pillow in his direction. You chuckled along with the joke, knowing that you should’ve stuck around to help her bake them. You made sure to promise not to miss the next movie night and even reassured Kevin that you would make a fresh batch of cookies just for him next time.

As Joel chimed in with the others about your “date,” Nolan remained oddly quiet.

His body language was stiff, and his eyes were mostly glued to his lap. He was playing with his fingers and refused to look you in the eyes. He almost looked uncomfortable, his smile forced whenever someone made another funny remark. Although everyone seemed oblivious to it, you couldn’t help but notice the way Nolan was biting the inside of his cheek. It was a habit that you noticed before, but you usually only ever saw him do it when he was in deep concentration or thought. You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt to see that Nolan didn’t even acknowledge your presence. Of course he didn’t owe you anything, but your heart didn’t necessarily know that.

You didn’t want to overanalyze anything, though. So, after chuckling at their comments, you headed to your room to remove your makeup and change into the oversized tee shirt and lounge shorts that you had been looking forward to changing into ever since you left the apartment.

“Calling it a night already?”

Upon hearing the question, you nearly had to do a double take. It was the first time you had heard Nolan’s voice all night. The lack of inflection in his voice transformed the previously light-hearted atmosphere thick with tension.

“Um, yea. It’s been a long night and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open,” you curtly responded with the first excuse that you could come up with, continuing en route to your room without sparing Nolan another glance. You gave everyone in the living space a small wave before you slipped into your room.

Although your reasoning was partially true, you didn’t know if you could handle being so close to Nolan at the moment. The two of you had gotten used to snuggling up together during movie nights and with your current emotional disarray, you didn’t want to put yourself in the position where you had to pretend like you weren’t still hurt at the thought of Nolan not seeing you in the same light that you saw him. And, regardless of how idiotic Nolan’s teammates could act at times, you knew they were pretty observant — especially when it came to you and Nolan’s complex friendship. If you decided to join in on the movie night but sit in any seat that wasn’t next to Nolan, they'd undoubtedly pick up on it.

Even though you thought your excuse was enough to get by your attentive friends, everyone in the room —bar Nolan— exchanged knowing looks with each other after once they heard the lock of your doorknob click into place. They knew how much you loved movie nights and how you were usually a night owl, regardless of how busy your day was. In fact, it was usually you that begged for an extra movie to be played when everyone was ready to call it a night.

More importantly, they knew you had a soft spot for Nolan. They weren’t ignorant to the way you’d sprint through hoops and hurdles to spend time with Nolan, mostly because they noticed how Nolan would go great lengths to see you, too. It had been a while since you last saw Nolan, and they figured that you would jump on the chance to be in your best friend’s presence again. Of course Maya had to play along, pretending as if she didn’t know why you were avoiding Nolan.

Even though Nolan was a little more subtle with his actions and words, it was no secret that Nolan missed you. His question from earlier was his way of asking you if everything was alright and if you wanted to spend time with him, and your deflection to his implied questions told everyone what they needed to know.

They weren’t quite sure what was going on between you and Nolan, but they knew things weren’t the same as they used to be.

Noting the way Nolan’s shoulders sunk after you disappeared into your bedroom, Maya was the first to rise from her seat. The mood of the night quickly became awkward after Nolan’s short-lived interaction with you, and Maya had no intention of having to sit through another hour of the movie if it were going to be this uncomfortable. She also hoped to talk to you before you actually went to sleep.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head to bed, too. I have to pick up an early shift tomorrow,” she explained as she gathered her blankets from the couch. “You’re staying the night, right?” she asked Joel.

Painfully aware of the newfound tension, her boyfriend silently nodded and helped Maya bring the rest of the throw pillows and blankets.

“You all can finish the rest of the movie,” Maya nodded towards Nolan, Travis, and Kevin. “Just lock up on your way out once it’s over. There should be a spare key under the flower pot outside.” Waving to the guys in the living room, Maya tugged Joel into her room and shut the door.

And then there were three.

+ him

Nolan’s jaw was beginning to ache from how hard he was clenching his teeth together. He didn’t know how to take in the rollercoaster of emotions that he had been feeling for the past few days. He wasn’t oblivious to the barrier that seemed to build up between you and him, but he didn’t know how that wall formed in the first place, let alone how to get over it.

He thought the past few days had been rocky, but he was certainly not prepared for his heartstrings to be pulled into so many directions tonight.

Nolan was looking forward to seeing you in person and was more than disheartened to hear that you were out for the night after he awkwardly asked Maya about your whereabouts. Your roommate didn’t go into the specifics of why you were missing out on the movie night, so he was left to his own devices to figure out where you were.

Of course he could’ve texted you, but given your erratic reply rates as of late, he resorted to refreshing his SnapChat and Instagram apps every once in a while to see if you were posting about where you were spending your weekend night.

Nolan wanted to understand why there was a strain in the relationship and more than anything, he needed your reassurance to know that everything was alright. He partly thought you were distancing yourself from him because he had made his feelings for you too obvious and you didn’t see him in that same way. The theory wasn’t even farfetched. His friends always made fun of him for being so whipped for you, and Nolan knew that you hated letting others down. Throughout his friendship with you, he had quickly learned that you would much rather deal with the brunt of someone else’s problems than to let them down. The thought of you distancing yourself from Nolan just because you only saw him as just a friend hurt Nolan, and he needed to let you know that he’d much rather deal with his feelings being unreciprocated than to have you fade away from his life.

Nolan also thought that he said something wrong and made you upset. However, after replaying all of the conversations he had with you leading up to your new treatment towards him, he didn’t know what he would have said that would have made you this indifferent to him.

Your social media gave no hints as to what you were doing, so Nolan let his imagination run wild with all of the reasons why you would’ve skipped movie night, especially when you were usually so excited about them.

When you entered the apartment a few hours after his arrival, Nolan felt his heartbeat begin to thrum as loud as a kick drum. All of the hypothetical situations that were previously occupying his mind were now invaded with thoughts about how good you looked. Nolan recognized the denim jacket you were wearing as the one that you had gotten a few months ago. He had just finished an afternoon practice when you FaceTimed him and couldn’t contain your excitement about finding the “most perfect article of clothing” you’ve ever owned. Although Nolan chirped you for driving so far away just for a jacket, the ecstatic expression on your face that day was one he’d never forget. It was also one that he so desperately craved to see for the rest of his life.

Just as quickly as he was brought out of his slump from seeing you, he was rudely pulled back down to reality after Maya asked you about your date. Needless to say, the warmth that filled his heart left as quickly as it had entered. Jealousy consumed Nolan, and he was momentarily blinded by a pain that he couldn’t quite describe.

As his friends joke around with you, Nolan struggled comprehending the thought of you with another guy. He had no right to be upset, really. Not when he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell you how he felt and especially not when your eyes were twinkling with so much elation.

Throughout the friendship Nolan had developed with you, you never mentioned that you were going on dates or seeking relationships. The hopeless romantic in him let him believe that maybe, just maybe, you were saving your heart for the right person. For him.

However, the breathy chuckle you released after Maya’s question shattered any amount of hope that Nolan had built up. Now, instead of butterflies, Nolan’s stomach was filled with a piercing ache. As if he wanted to punish himself more for not being more vocal about his feelings for you, Nolan attempted to ask you to join the movie night. Sure, maybe he wasn’t exactly direct with his words, but he was hoping you’d pick up on his hint. Nolan shouldn’t have been so surprised when you decided to go to your room instead of joining him and the others, but the already-tense coil in his stomach continued to tighten.

After you went to your room, followed by Maya and Joel, Nolan looked at the remaining people in the room.

“We’re sorry, Pat,” Travis was the first to speak. His words were laced with sympathy, knowing how much his friend was head over heels for you.

Moving from his seat to stand over his younger teammate, Kevin rose from the couch and rubbed Nolan’s shoulder. “Let’s head home, yea?” Kevin attempted to dance around the topic of you.

“I’ll meet you two in the car. Just need to clear my head for a bit,” Nolan muttered to his understanding friends.

Quietly, Travis and Kevin left the apartment, making sure to shut the door carefully as to not disturb their teammate.

+ him & her

Thinking you were in the clear after hearing the front door close, you left your room in hopes of making a mug of tea.

You felt bad for avoiding Nolan, but you didn’t know how else to deal with the thousands of thoughts that cycled through your brain.

To say you were unprepared to see Nolan in your living would be an understatement. His arms were propped on his knees and his face was cradled by his hands. His shoulders were slouched and his tousled hair looked as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

You weren’t sure if you should’ve just turned back around and locked yourself in your room, but your instincts beckoned you to come closer to Nolan. No matter how hurt you were, he was your best friend first and foremost. If there was anything you could do to bring him out of his clear distress, you would do it without a second thought.

“Nolan?” you meekly called out his name.

Nolan slowly moved his head just enough so he could hear the source of the sound. Unintentionally mimicking your facial expression, he looked just as stunned to see you. “Sorry, I thought you would’ve already been asleep. I was uh- I was just about to head out,” he timidly said.

“Stay as long as you need. I’ve been trying to sleep but didn’t have much luck, so I’m hoping tea will help. Haven’t been able to get a good sleep for a while now,” you explained while opening a kitchen cupboard for a mug.

“Me neither. Things haven’t felt right recently,” he sighed. After his statement, the apartment was eerily quiet. Neither of you wanted to say anything else, scared of stepping over any boundaries or maybe the situation even more awkward.

You’re not sure what gears clicked into place, but you felt compelled to finally tell Nolan what was on your mind. The guilt of ignoring him was eating away at you, and you felt like you at least owed your best friend an explanation as to why you needed space from him. After you dropped the tea bag into your mug, you walked back towards the living space to where Nolan was still sitting.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you started.

Nolan didn’t say anything, his eyes pleading with you to continue with what you were saying.

“I’m just gonna lay everything out because I know I’m not gonna be brave enough to do this on any other occasion,” you prefaced, making sure Nolan was paying attention to what you were saying. You were already embarrassed that you had managed to think that Nolan could ever like you, and you did not want to have to verbally explain your emotional affliction more than one.

“I don’t really know when, but I caught feelings for you. At first I wasn’t sure what to do about it, because everyone always warns about falling for your best friend and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us if you didn’t feel the same,” you continued with your explanation, eventually getting to the part where you saw Nolan and the girl on Maya’s story.

“It just sucked, y’know? I thought I was doing a good job of suppressing my feelings and then I saw that. Obviously it’s not like we were dating or anything and I never told you how I felt at the time, but having that confirmation that there wasn’t actually anything between us was like a kick to the gut.”

“I feel terrible for letting my feelings get in the way of our friendship and reading all of the signs wrong. I don’t wanna lose you because of this, and I’m really trying to get over my silly feelings becau-” you were cut off by Nolan.

“What if I don’t want you to get over those feelings?” he said while approaching the spot you were standing in.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure if you were hearing things right or if you were so sleep deprived that you were starting to make things up. “I-I’m not following,” you silently begged Nolan to continue.

“I liked you, too,” he confessed. “Well, I still like you. If I’m being honest, I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted all in one breath. “I thought it would be easier to try to get over you instead of dealing with the possibility of ruining our friendship just because I caught feelings,” he elaborated.

“Obviously it didn’t work, though. And I ended up messing up things between us anyway, so it really didn’t work,” he sighed with a hint of resignation in his tone. He wasn’t sure if he was referring to ruining the friendship, his chance of getting to call you his, or both. Upon that thought, Nolan became even more dejected after he was reminded about how you were just on a date a few hours ago.

Your head was spinning with each word. Every fiber in your body was consumed by joy, and you were now wide awake. Nolan was now only standing a few feet away from you. You still hadn’t replied to his confession, and you could tell that he was becoming increasingly nervous as he awaited your reaction. With that realization, you were drawn out of your thoughts. Your heart was lodged in your throat, and you knew that no words could articulate the words you wanted to tell Nolan, anyway.

With that, you closed the distance between the two of you. Your hands grabbed his and although he flinched a little bit, he welcomed your gesture and interlaced your fingers with him.

Going on your tiptoes to come a little closer to your face, you become hyper-aware of Nolan’s burning gaze. His face is painted with a light blush, and he’s biting the inside of his cheeks again.

“I hope this is okay,” is the last thing you whisper before you connect your lips to his.

Instinctively, Nolan’s hands pulled away from yours to find a home on your hips. He pulled you closer, attempting to deepen the kiss. The kiss was soft, reassuring, and everything in between. Nolan couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging on his lips, and had to pull away to make sure that this was actually happening.

He was met with your confused face, your eyebrows scrunched in the cutest way. His smile promptly turned into a smirk as you tried to pull him into a kiss, your shorter height causing you to barely graze the corner of his lips.

When Nolan released a chuckle, you started to become impatient. “What?” you questioned while narrowing your eyes towards the rosy-cheeked boy in front of you.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he cheekily asked.

“Only if I get a second kiss,” you said with gleaming eyes, fingertips grazing along his jawline. With those words, Nolan wasted no time fulfilling your wish and peppering your neck with dozens of chaste kisses.

The two of you were so consumed with the high of finally getting to hear the other admit their feelings that neither of you heard the sound of the front door violently swinging open.

“Patty, where the fuck are yo-” Travis called, immediately realizing the moment he was intruding on. “You know what, I think I’m just gonna head out. Have a good night!” he awkwardly chuckled, undoubtedly embarrassed. He sent the two of you a thumbs up before quickly shutting the door as if he never interrupted.

“Oh my god,” Nolan said, his head falling into your shoulder and arms wrapping around your body. “I forgot that TK and Hayesy were waiting for me to come down. It’s probably been like half an hour at this point,” his laugh rumbled through your bones.

“Stay the night?” you offered. “Maybe I can finally get more than four hours of sleep,” you laughed.

“Mm, sounds like a plan,” Nolan peppered kisses along your neck before scooping you into his arms and heading to your bedroom.

Although both of you knew that there would be a lot to talk about the following morning, neither of you wanted to disrupt the current state of bliss that both of you were in. You and Nolan’s hearts were finally intertwined, and for now, that was enough to engulf you in ease.

[yellowsuitcase]

I missed you // Draco Malfoy

A/N: This was an anonymous request I received about 4 days ago. It took me a while to write it because school was A LOT this week and I’ve been so exhausted from trying to keep up with everything. I’ve also started trying to shift so if anyone has any tips on that, please let me know! Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Draco and Y/N have mutually broken up and have started experimenting with other people. But it’s only a matter of time before Draco gets jealous.

Warning(s): Swearing

Word Count: 2.5k 

It was for the best. Wasn’t it? He didn’t love her anymore, and nor did she. That happens sometimes. People just fall out of love. It was mutual; there was no fight, nobody was angry. The relationship had run its course, no feed to fuss about it. Besides, it wouldn’t have made sense for them to remain, boyfriend and girlfriend, when they’d each lost feelings.

If all of that is true...then why does it hurt so much? Y/N wondered as she lay flat on her back, the bedsheets around her in disarray from all her tossing and turning. She knew there was no way she’d find sleep easily tonight, not after the breakup. She felt as if a piece of her had been forcefully ripped from her. But why? She had a hunch for almost an entire month that she’d lost feelings for Draco. Shouldn’t she have been prepared for the end? Alas, Y/N knew that completely preparing oneself for a breakup is an impossible feat. 

These thoughts swirled through her brain as she finally closed her eyes. She clutched the sheets in her palms, trying to ground herself. Her forehead was tense with wrinkles as she was already anticipating the nightmares. But nevertheless, after a few more minutes of restlessness, her body’s need for slumber overtook her.

When she awoke the next morning, she could practically feel the bags sitting under her eyes. She could only guess that her sleep had been plagued with nightmares as she was lucky enough not to have any recollection. Her head pounded as she sat up in her bed. Her roommate gave her a pitiful and knowing look. Y/N took in a deep breath and clambered out of bed.

It didn’t take her very long to get ready since she frankly didn’t care whether or not she looked presentable today. She made sure her teeth were brushed and that her tie was on correctly and walked out of the dorms. Truthfully, she knew she wasn’t very hungry, but people would ask questions if she missed breakfast. While walking to the Great Hall, she was startled by someone jumping right in front of her.

“Good morning!” George Weasley said. “Why the long face?”

Y/N gave him a weak smile and said, “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

George looked skeptical but pushed no further. He fell into step beside her.

“Where’s Freddie?” she asked.

“Morning detention with Filch, he slipped a puking pastille into his drink.”

“You had nothing to do with it?” she asked, a doubtful smile on her lips.

George shrugged, smirking as he did so. “I have my ways,” he said while bumping her shoulder slightly. She looked up at him with a fake mean glare as they strode into the Great Hall. Y/N caught sight of Draco immediately. He was where he always sat in the morning. Usually, she would’ve made a beeline for the space next to him. Today, that spot was taken by Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl who had always taken a keen liking to Draco. Y/N stopped in her tracks and stared. Pansy was fawning over him, running her hands up his arms. Y/N felt anger begin to rise in her chest...but then she remembered. 

Shaking her head, she forced her feet to follow George to where he had sat down at the Gryffindor table. He was talking animatedly with his mates and didn’t notice Y/N standing behind him awkwardly while she tried to figure out whether or not she was wanted at the table; she was a Slytherin after all.

George eventually took notice of the presence behind him when his friend nodded his head towards her. “Y/N, did you want to sit? Thought you’d be with Malfoy. Has something happened?”

She sighed as she threw her leg over the bench and sat down. “Yeah, we broke up,” she said softly.

“Broke up? He didn’t do anything, did he?” George asked while turning to look at Draco.

“No, no. It was mutual. He didn’t do anything.”

“Good. Well, cheer up then. You’re a free woman now. The world is yours, right?” 

Y/N smiled at George. “Yeah, you’re right, it is. I don’t know why I’ve been sulking so much. I lost feelings, and so did he. Nothing more to it.”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! Who needs Malfoy anyway?” George bellowed, successfully making Y/N giggle. She felt her stomach rumble. This surprised her; she didn’t expect to be in a good enough mood to be hungry. But the buttered rolls on the table now looked extremely appetizing.

---------

{A few months later}

Draco paced back and forth in front of the mirror. He was nervous. In nearly twenty minutes, he’d be on his first date since breaking up with Y/N. He couldn’t believe he was really going on a date. With Pansy Parkinson, nonetheless. These past few months, she’d really grown on him. She was from a pureblood family, she was kind to him, and she was rather pretty. Draco knew his parents would love her. He could only hope he could grow to do the same.

He gathered his courage and left the bathroom. They had agreed to meet outside the potions classroom. It was an odd location, but Pansy suggested it, and Draco had no reason to object it. As he walked down the middle of the corridors, his mind began to race. What would she be wearing? Would she like him? Would they become boyfriend and girlfriend after this? Would Y/N find out? What would she think?

Draco’s face grew tense. What a silly thought to have. He wouldn’t actually date Pansy. And as for Y/N, he knew she wouldn’t care. She and George have had a thing for a few weeks now. They were always holding hands or sitting shoulder to shoulder, lovey-dovey stuff like that. He had even given her a kiss on the cheek. The image of it was burned into Draco’s memory.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he saw Pansy outside the classroom. She had her back leaned against the wall. She donned a dark green dress that reached her mid-thigh. Her hair was wavy and fell over her bare shoulders. Draco exhaled sharply. He felt the anxiety in his stomach but was determined not to show it.

“You clean up nice, Parkinson,” he said cooly and confidently while nodding his chin towards her. 

Pansy rolled her eyes, “Thank you, Malfoy. You look handsome as well,” she said while scanning him up and down, her voice slow and sensual. Draco shifted his feet, feeling uncomfortable. “Shall we?” he asked. Pansy smirked and pushed off the wall and sauntered over to him. She reached for his hand and grasped it tightly in hers. Draco had to fight the internal instinct to wriggle his hand out of hers.

Just as they were about to go, they heard a noise from behind them. They turned around saw none other than Y/N, her arms full of potion ingredients and notebooks. She looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Stealing potion ingredients, Y/N?” Pansy asked with a knowing smirk on her face.

Y/N’s eyes shifted back and forth between the pair. When her eyes landed on their interlocked fingers, she straightened her spine and frowned. “You know perfectly well that we have a section that’s open to students. And it’s none of your business anyway,” she spat.

But Pansy was unfazed. “Lavender, Flobberworm mucus, and valerian sprigs. What’s wrong, Y/N? Can’t fall asleep? Oh no, don’t tell me you get nightmares,” Pansy taunted, using a voice one might use when speaking to a baby or a dog.

Draco watched as Y/N’s face turned red. He knew she’d always struggled with nightmares and would often have to make herself a sleeping draught potion to be able to get some genuine rest. As he looked at the ingredients in her hands, he noticed she was short on a few of them.

“You don’t have enough,” he said without thinking. Both girls’ eyes turned to him. He ignored Pansy’s and instead focused on Y/N’s.

She waited a few beats before replying, “Snape has stopped refilling the supply. He said I need to stop relying on it so much,” she muttered. Her head had turned away from the couple. Draco’s eyebrows knitted together. When did she become so dependent on those potions? While they were together, she’d only need it maybe once every few weeks.

He didn’t have time to wonder about it any further. Pansy had begun walking and dragged Draco with her. Leaving Y/N alone in the cold dungeons, watching them go.

----------

Draco stared through the leaves of the tree he lied underneath. Classes were over, and he was relaxing before Crabbe and Goyle were bound to come and bother him. The week had dragged on for what seemed like years. Frankly, he was ready to crawl into bed and sleep the next few days away, but he had already made plans for the weekend. 

He allowed his eyes to close, and the stress from the week began to leave his body. But his peacefulness was short-lived. Loud cheers made their way to his ears. He sat up angrily, ready to hex whoever decided to irritate him. However, all that frustration dissipated when he saw what people were cheering for. When he saw it, time seemed to stop.

George was holding Y/N in his arms, she was parallel with the ground, and her lips were pressed against his. He was kissing her passionately while her hands gripped his shirt collar.

Draco felt his heart sink. The only word running through his brain was “no.” No, no, no, no. After he watched the scene in front of him for nearly a minute, he decided he couldn’t stand it any longer. He jumped to his feet and stomped out of the courtyard, passing Pansy as he did so.

“Draco, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” she asked, her face was strewn up in confusion as to why Draco’s shoulders were heaving. 

“Not now, Parkinson,” Draco snapped.

“But Draco—”

“Shut up! Merlin, do you ever shut that trap of yours?” he shouted at her. Her eyes widened in shock, but Draco paid her no mind. He was halfway down the corridor when he thought better of himself and turned around. Rage overtook his body as he stormed back into the open courtyard and headed right for George and Y/N. They noticed him coming towards them and took a few steps back. George took Y/N’s hand and pulled her behind him.

“What d’you want Malfoy?” 

“Move, Weaslebee, I’m not here for you.”

George pursed his lips and withdrew his wand. He was intent on not letting Malfoy come any closer to the girl behind him. “If you’re here for her, you’re not getting her.”

Draco clenched his fists and also withdrew his wand. He aimed it straight at George’s face. “Move,” he demanded.

George widened his stance and raised his wand towards the blonde boy. “No,” he said firmly.

Draco inhaled and opened his mouth, but before he could hex George, a golden light shot towards Draco’s hand, and suddenly his wand was thirty feet across the yard.

Y/N emerged from behind George. Her wand was clutched in her palm. “There’s no need to fight. I can decide whether I want to speak with someone, and I certainly don’t need protection. So if you’ll excuse me, it’s obvious that Draco and I need to have a chat.”

She didn’t waste a moment; she began to make her way towards the exit. Draco quickly came to his senses and went to fetch his wand before hurrying after her.

He followed her through many hallways before she stopped outside the Slytherin dorms. “Salazar,” she muttered. The walls opened up before her, and she and Draco walked down the stairs into the eerie common room.

Y/N took a seat at the couch on the left of the fireplace. It was the couch they’d use to cuddle on after a long day. It felt weird to sit on it now since they both sat on opposite ends.

“Let’s not waste time,” she said, “you’re obviously upset. Care to tell me why?”

Draco scoffed and threw his arm over the back of the leather sofa. “Weasley, huh?”

“Draco, don’t be a git. We’ve been broken up for months. I’m allowed to see other people, aren’t I? I mean, you went on a date with Pansy.”

He shook his head vehemently and shifted in his seat. He couldn’t sit still, he was so angry.

“Speak, Draco. You know we can’t work any of our issues out if you don’t speak,” Y/N reminded him.

He let out an angry sigh and turned to face his ex-girlfriend. He had expected her to look just as mad as him, but instead, her eyes were filled with worry and concern. Her hand was pressed into the couch, and her body was slightly leaning forward. Draco felt the fire within his chest begin to die. He took another breath before talking.

“I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it, Y/N. Seeing you with someone else fucking kills me. It makes me so angry. When he kissed you, I… I forgot how to breathe. It was like a dementor had come and sucked all the happiness from my veins. I was infuriated, not just at him but at myself. How could I let someone else hold you?”

Y/N stared at him with soft, gentle eyes. Slowly, she reached for his rigid fist that was resting on his lap. She took it into her hands and felt the tension leave. She had always had that effect on Draco. Her touch was able to calm his stiffness with ease.

“What am I saying?” Draco wondered out loud as he shamefully wiped a tear from his cheek, “you’re not mine anymore. I know that, and yet…” he trailed off.

“Then make me yours again,” Y/N whispered.

Draco’s head whipped towards her. He saw a look of nervousness on her face. Steadily, he took her head into his hands. He moved his head slightly below hers, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Almost as if he was afraid to ask.

Y/N nodded her head, “I do. God, I do. It’s always been you, Draco. I’m so sorry—” She was cut off by Draco pulling her in for a kiss. Y/N felt herself melt into his embrace; she felt at home again. 

He pulled away to catch his breath. “I’m sorry too. I never stopped loving you. I know that now. Please, let me be yours again.” 

Y/N smiled, “I missed you, Malfoy,” she said with a small chuckle. Draco felt a grin spread on his face, and he dove back in for another kiss. 

“I missed you more. Don’t you ever let me walk away from you again, you hear?” Draco asked playfully. Y/N laughed and gave him a quick peck on the nose.

“I solemnly swear,” she said in a fake deep voice while trying not to giggle. Draco rolled his eyes and tackled her onto the couch, causing her to squeal happily. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, vowing to himself to never let go of her again.

[heyitssmiller]

Clandestine: Chapter Eleven

I... about 75% of this chapter was not in the outline, and I don’t really know what to do about that fact. This completely ran away from me, but that’s ok I guess.

Characters, as always, belong to the amazing @lumosinlove and a huge thanks again to @donttouchmycarrots for proofreading!! <3

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: hospitals, injury, brief mention of blood, medical drugs

.

Leo slept. A lot.

Logan knew this was normal; their nurse had reiterated it a few times now. When he did wake up, it was only for a few dazed, confused minutes before he was pulled back under again. The confusion ebbed the more time went on, the effects of anesthesia wearing off, but the dull sheen to his eyes remained. He could fight his way through a brief conversation with him or Finn, and then he was back to sleep. It was probably for the best, Logan told himself. Better than dealing with their present situation, at least.

Finn was curled up uncomfortably in the chair beside him, also sleeping. He normally looked peaceful when he was asleep – lips slightly parted, face relaxed, on his side or stomach with one hand usually shoved under his pillow. After about a week of sharing a hotel room and a bed, Logan knew these things. It wasn’t the same now. Granted, he was in a chair instead of a bed, but still. He was curled up somewhat in a ball, with the leg in a brace stretched out and immobile – an awkward position that almost made him look like a flamingo balancing on one leg. His shoulders were tense, even in sleep, and his jaw was clenched tight. A worry line was furrowed between his eyebrows, steadfastly refusing to smooth out. Logan brushed his knuckles faintly against the bruise on his cheek, plum against porcelain, and sighed. He knew he should be doing the same thing – sleeping, that is – but every time he closed his eyes… well. It wasn’t pretty. Besides, someone needed to keep an eye out. There was only so long the nurse could delay the GSW report.

It was only a matter of time before they were on the run again.

Regulus drifted in and out on occasion, checking in on them. He seemed to be on guard, constantly walking the perimeter of the hospital and keeping an eye out for familiar faces. It put Logan on edge and calmed him down at the simultaneously. He didn’t trust Regulus, not really, but he figured if he was going to sabotage them he would’ve done so already. He’d had ample opportunity, after all.

Logan glanced at the clock. They’d been here for just shy of twenty-four hours now. The sun was starting to rise again, not bringing any answers with it. Loops had been in contact, briefly. They’d received one text message that simply said “stay put” and radio silence after that. He just hoped they had a good plan. Even better if it was safe, too, but Logan wasn’t about to push their luck… if you could even call it that.

For now, this was ok. They were together, they were alive, and they were relatively safe, for now. In that moment, listening to the steady beeps of a monitor and muffled conversations of people in the hallway outside their door and the even breathing of his partners, he couldn’t ask for much more.

***

Nate saw the scowling, intimidating group of people in the lobby and knew they were in trouble.

He had just started today’s shift, still tired from the one the day before, and was in the process of saying his usual hello to the staff working the front desk when he saw them. There were three of them – at least two of which were over six feet tall, looming and muscular and intense. One had a scar traversing down one side of his face, healed but still a beacon that screamed “don’t mess with me”. The short, scary one was right.

He’d submitted the GSW report about ten minutes ago, and here they were.

Fuck.

Nate didn’t even say goodbye to the sweet lady working the desk that day, he just backed away slowly and tried to appear normal as he pushed past the doors. As soon as they closed he broke into a run, headed straight for room 308 and stopping by the nurse’s station for a split second to grab two prescriptions before he was off again. He was almost there when he crashed into someone as he rounded a corner, only avoiding hitting the ground by two arms that snaked out to steady him. He looked up to gray eyes and a vaguely familiar face.

“Sorry.” The guy said and let go of him, frowning when he saw what was no doubt a look of panic on Nate’s face. “You ok?”

He remembered this guy now. He was with the scary short guy and the other two. He wasn’t around much, but Nate had seen him a few times when he’d been making his rounds.

“They’re here.” He blurted, hoping that he didn’t need so say anymore.

He didn’t. in the blink of an eye he was leading the way to room 308 and throwing the door open, which Nate didn’t think was the best idea. He didn’t know what these people did for a living, but it was clearly dangerous. Barging in like that probably wasn’t a good move.

Sure enough, when Nate followed Gray Eyes into the room, the short one was on his feet and had pulled a gun from somewhere, aiming it at the two of them. Gray Eyes stuck his arm out and kept Nate from going any further until Short Angry One recognized them.

Nate used to think this was a relatively safe career path. Sure he might get puked on, yelled at, mentally and emotionally eviscerated by doctors and patients and family members alike on a regular basis, but he’d never felt like his life was in danger.

Maybe he should go into accounting. Just him in an office with a bunch of numbers. Or a museum curator, surrounded by ancient artifacts and not much else. Definitely not people pointing guns at you.

Both the redhead and the blond woke up at the disturbance, one sitting up in a flash and the other just blinking sleepily and frowning in concern. Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Gray Eyes blurted out, “They’re here.”

The EKG readings on the monitor spiked, and then it was a flurry of motion. Short Angry One cursed under his breath and pulled Gray Eyes and Nate into the room fully, closing the door behind them. The redhead started throwing the few things they had into his pockets – a phone, some other electronic device Nate couldn’t identify, an old lock, a pen. He shoved his shoes on, unsteady on his feet, and looked to the blond, who was still in a hospital gown and watching with wide eyes. All the color that had been slowly returning to his cheeks was now gone.

Nate steeled his resolve. His job was to save lives, damnit, and that’s what he was going to do.

He jumped into action, pushing Gray Eyes out of the way and unhooking his patient from the monitors before discontinuing the IV drip and pulling the IV out, stopping the bleeding with quick pressure from his hand. “There’s an employee exit down the hall that leads to the parking garage. You guys know how to hotwire a car, by any chance? I’d offer you mine but I don’t have one.”

“I can.” Glaring down at his sling, the blond muttered, “Well. Maybe can is the wrong word.”

Nate let up on the pressure, shrugged his thin jacket off, and helped him slide his good arm through the sleeve, throwing the other side around his shoulder gently. It wouldn’t do much to help, but it was better than nothing. “Can you show someone else how to do it?”

“Maybe.” He said, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and frowning when Nate stopped him. “I can walk.”

Nate smiled. Typical. “That’s what they all say. I’m going to grab a wheelchair, anyways. You’ll be faster that way.” He looked at the others in the room and continued. “I’ll lead you to the exit, but I’m afraid that’s as far as I can take you. I’ll try to find these guys and get them off your trail as best I can.”

He shoved the two prescriptions he was so glad he’d filled last night at Ginger, trying to ignore the way all of them seemed to be staring at him. “Instructions are on the labels. He needs to finish all the antibiotics. All of them.” He didn’t have time to stress the importance of preventing antibiotic resistance, but he hoped they would take his word for it. “Let me go get-”

The door opened again and they all swiveled towards it. Ginger stepped between the blond and the door while Short One raised his gun again – but he didn’t shoot. In fact he just stared for a second, then lowered his gun with a smile.

“Loops.” He said, relieved, and – what?

The three men Nate had seen earlier were ushered into the room, the tallest one slapping the brunet on the shoulder, causing him to stumble as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and stashed it in the waistline of his pants.

The one in the front with caramel colored eyes looked between their group, one eyebrow arched. “Going somewhere? I thought I told you to stay put.”

Ginger laughed incredulously, shoulders slumping. “Holy shit, Loops. We thought you were someone else.”

Gray Eyes looked at Nate, exasperation clear in his gaze. “You told me they were here.”

Nate threw his arms up in defense. “You look at those guys and tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious.” He winced and looked at the newcomers, realizing that his words might be offensive. “Sorry.”

Neither of them seemed to take it to heart. The tall one just grinned and said, in a heavily-accented voice, “We still got it, eh, Nado?”

The one with the scar – Nado, apparently – just rolled his eyes and didn’t comment, but Nate could see one side of his mouth lifting into a smile. It softened his face, made him look more like a teddy bear than the scary, intimidating guy he’d seen in the lobby.

“We’ve got a car out back.” The one called Loops said, looking to the blond with gentle, understanding eyes. “You good to go?”

He nodded firmly, no room for second-guessing. “Let’s do this.”

Now, Nate didn’t exactly think it was a good idea to move a GSW patient out of a hospital only a day after getting shot, but – judging by how the others had reacted at the thought of people coming for them – it was safer for him to leave than to stay here. His brain, after all those years of medical classes and caffeine/anxiety induced all-nighters, was screaming in horror about complications and sepsis and bone fragments, but he didn’t voice them. He just reached for a pen and paper in his pocket. He scribbled his number down and handed it to his patient. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, ok? I’d feel much better if you at least had a nurse with you, but this’ll have to do.”

He got a warm smile in response. “Thanks,” he said, voice and eyes serious. “For everything. Not many people would do what you did for us.”

Nate blinked. “I genuinely don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks?” He still didn’t know who exactly he was helping, but then again, he guessed it didn’t really matter either way. They seemed like good people dealing with a shitty situation, and that was a good enough motive for him. “I’m going to grab that wheelchair quickly and I’ll be right back.”

He should’ve known that, by the time he got back, they’d already be gone – leaving no trace except for the disheveled sheets on the bed, two chairs next to it instead of the standard one, and the still humming machines and monitors.

Nate let himself slump against the wheelchair, forearms resting against the handles.

“What the fuck,” he said, with feeling.

***

Sirius was behind the steering wheel of a very old service van, watching six of them pile into the back and Loops slide into the passenger’s seat. His eyes didn’t stray long from Regulus, though. If he’d had enough time, he would’ve tackled his younger brother in a hug. Unfortunately, they were on a bit of a tight schedule. “Petition to never have to break someone out of a hospital again.” He said wryly, putting the van into drive and searching for the exit to the maze that was this parking garage. All the while, he was sneaking glances in the rearview mirror, unable to help himself.

“Where do I sign?” Finn deadpanned from the back row, sandwiched between Logan and Leo. They looked so tired. Leo didn’t hesitate to twist in his seat a little so that he could lean into Finn’s chest and close his eyes, looking absolutely miserable. Finn shifted just slightly, pressing a barely-perceptible kiss to a bird’s nest of curls and relaxing back into his seat.

Huh.

That was… new.

But then again, was it? Sirius thought back to the past several months of this operation and found that he really wasn’t that surprised. But then there was Logan…

“Turn left here.” Remus said, pulling him out of the thoughts, calm and in control like usual. His lips turned up into a smile as he flicked his turn signal on. He could see them doing exactly this, when all the chaos was said and done. Taking a roadtrip, Sirius behind the wheel and Remus navigating, going wherever they felt like. No worries or missions, just the two of them and the black top below them. He shelved the daydreaming for later.

“Where are we going?”

Sirius’ eyes flew back to the mirror at his brother’s voice – the first time he’d head it un-obscured by a phone or earpiece in too long. He’d missed him. He’d fought so hard for him, to get him out of that mess and keep him safe, and here he was. They’d done it.

Was he a horrible person, for feeling as relieved as he did? He’d inadvertently put the Cubs through hell for mostly selfish reasons. Sure, he wanted to take the Snakes down, but that paled in comparison to the safety of his brother. He’d let the Snakes walk away scot-free if it meant Reg was safe.

He didn’t know what kind of person that made him – he was too afraid to speculate about it.

“My family has a cabin about two hours away,” Remus replied, balancing his phone with the navigation app against the center console so that Sirius could see it. “It’s empty right now, so it’s a perfect hideout until we figure out next steps.”

Finn was asleep now, too, head pillowed on Leo’s. Logan stared sightlessly out the window beside them, stonily silent. Sirius ached for him. They were kindred spirits, he and Logan. Stubborn, fierce, bleeding hearts who cared too much and shouldered more than their fair share of the responsibility when things went wrong.

And things had really gone wrong.

“What are the next steps?” Reg asked as they left the city and headed towards the interstate. “This isn’t the only backup we’ve got, right?”

“Sleep,” Kuny told Regulus, not unkindly, “had big couple of days, yes? Plan later.”

Reg looked at the tall Russian sitting next to him for a second, then sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

Sirius drove on in silence.

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, he was pulling up on a gravel driveway to a quaint, two-story cabin. The jostling of the gravel under their tires seemed to wake everyone up, according to the grumbles and yawns Sirius could hear from behind him as he finally put the van in park. The doors opened and they were all climbing out of the van, stretching stiff muscles and groaning. The ones with bags in the trunk went to unload while Remus fished his keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door, bounding up the last two steps to the porch. He was equal parts glad and upset that they were here. He was grateful that the Cubs were safe now and that this cabin was so far off the grid that the Snakes wouldn’t find them. But bringing a bunch of coworkers to the place he went to escape work stuff… jeez. Not that he didn’t like his coworkers, but sometimes he needed a break from it all. Plus this place belonged to his family. Being here with anyone but them just felt wrong.

Remus opened the door, instantly on guard when he saw the kitchen light was on. Whoever was in there must’ve heard the door because Remus could hear the refrigerator door close, then loud footsteps headed towards them. His hand drifted to his gun and he cautiously flicked the safety off.

A head peeked out from the kitchen. All-too-familiar eyes widened excitedly. “Re?”

The safety quickly went back on. “Jules?”

He wasn’t supposed to be there. Their trip wasn’t for another week-

Remus’ younger brother beamed and launched himself towards him, leaping into Remus’ arms when he got close enough with an excited shout.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it this trip!”

“What am I – what are you doing here?” Remus shot back, tensing up when he heard footsteps behind him. “Your trip is supposed to be next week!”

“School got cancelled because of all the snow.” Jules peered around Remus at the gathering group behind him. “Who are they?”

“Jules?” The familiar voice of their mother called from down the hall. “Who are you talking to, honey?”

Oh god, this was something straight out of Remus’ nightmares. How the fuck was he supposed to explain all this to his family? The rest of their agents were supposed to drive up here tomorrow with gear and supplies and weapons for their final stand against the Snakes. That… there was no way to explain that. At all.

Fuuuuuuck.

Hope Lupin stepped around the corner, startling when she saw the crowd on her doorstep. “Remus?”

“I’m so sorry, mom,” he blurted, the words coming out in an unfiltered rush. “I didn’t know you’d be up here or else I would’ve-”

“Oh, nonsense. We’re happy to have you and your… friends.” She said sweetly, voice raising into an almost-question at the end. Remus, flying blind, said the first thing that came to mind.

“They’re work friends. And there’s a few more coming tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“What happened to him?” Jules interrupted, wide eyes trained on Leo, who smiled faintly.

“Shoulder surgery,” Leo said easily, taking Remus by surprise a little at how easily he responded with a textbook spy tactic: tell the truth, but only enough to not raise suspicion. He technically wasn’t lying, either. It was harder to get caught lying when you technically hadn’t.

It seemed like the rookie was no longer a rookie.

“It was recent, wasn’t it?” Hope asked, eyes sharp with observation as she ushered them all inside. When Leo looked at her a little distrustfully and both Logan and Finn stiffened beside him, she sent them all a soothing smile. “I’m a nurse, I can tell.”

“About a day and a half ago.” Leo let her lead them to a couch and sat down, answering Hope’s questions calmly now, seeming to know she could be trusted. When Remus looked around again, he noticed that Sirius and Regulus were both absent, no doubt having a much-needed talk. He was struck with a twinge of worry, but pushed it back. He shouldn’t interfere. They needed some time alone to sort through things. Sirius would talk to him about it if he felt like it. Nado and Kuny were trying to sneak their way into the kitchen, looking for whatever smelled so good in there. For spies, they weren’t very subtle.

“What kind of shoulder surgery?” Jules asked, trailing after their mom. “Re had one a few years ago, too!”

Remus winced and shot Leo an apologetic look for his over-inquisitive brother. “Not quite the same, Jules.”

“All he does is sleep now,” Finn said teasingly as he took a step back and stretched out his leg with only a slight wince. “My jacket has drool all over it from the car ride here.”

Leo shot Finn an unheated glare as he sat up and opened his mouth to shoot back a reply when all of a sudden he went pale as a sheet, eyes dazed. Everyone in the room froze, looking at him nervously.

Finn was kneeling in front of him in a flash, Logan already holding his hand too tightly from his spot beside him. “Leo?”

The blond squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into Logan heavily. “Hurts,” he managed to grit out while Logan wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close, combing his fingers through a riotous mess of curls. He locked gazes with Finn and saw a different kind of pain from Leo’s, but identical to Logan’s, reflected there as he watched helplessly.

Maybe they should’ve accepted the risks and stayed at the hospital. They’d be sitting ducks there, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Logan would take the uncomfortable chairs and the nurse who talked too much and the stress over the heavy weight pressed against him, the shaky, too-measured breaths, the soulful brown eyes that matched his own.

It felt like all the decisions he’d been making recently were the wrong ones. It would be nice to not put his partners through pain because of his poor decisions for once.

Hope was by their side then, holding out a glass of water and two pills. Logan hadn’t even noticed Finn set the prescriptions down on the entryway table. “I think it’s time to take these now.” Leo refused to move from his current spot, but he took the pills and followed them with a quick drink of water. A muffled “thank you” was murmured into the material of Logan’s shirt, quiet and a little tense.

Hope just smiled sympathetically. “You’re probably going to get really sleepy in the next thirty minutes or so,” she continued, giving the three of them a look. Like she knew something. “So if there’s any conversations that can’t wait until the morning…”

Loops came by his eerie observation skills naturally, it seemed.

Logan looked to Remus and the others, hoping that all the planning could wait until the morning. They were exhausted. Surely they’d be ok without them for a few hours.

“Go get some rest,” Loops said gently, motioning down the hallway. “There’s a guest bedroom down there, second door on the left. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Finn made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as they reached the bedroom, muttering about how he’d needed to use the restroom since they’d all piled into the van. Leo toed off his shoes while Logan hovered, unsure if he should offer to help or not, his heart still in his throat. Leo just sent him a weary, affectionate smile. It tugged viciously at Logan’s heart and made him want to pull his partner close and not let go. Ever.

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

He could’ve cried at the relief of hearing that nickname again. “You sure?” He asked, just to be safe.

Leo’s face was inscrutable as he cautiously sat down on the bed. “If I keep telling myself that… eventually I’ll start to believe it, right?”

Logan didn’t have an answer to that, not at first. But he remembered the feeling from after missions that had gone belly-up, the few that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of. The disbelief that somehow, after all of that, he was still alive and ok. It felt like trying to find his way through a snowstorm when all he could see was blinding, overwhelming white.

He wasn’t about to let Leo navigate that without a guide.

He sat down next to Leo and grabbed his hand, moving down to the pulse-point at his wrist and feeling tendons flex and shift under his fingertips. It beat, steady and strong, when he pressed down lightly. He knew Leo could feel it, too.

“You’re here.” Logan said simply. It was a tactic he used on bad days, when everything got to be too much. That little pulse, a sign of life and resilience. The two of them shared that now, that resilience and refusal to die that flowed through their veins.

Leo stared at him, eyes so soft and a hue that Logan wanted to engrave into his memory. “Logan,” he said quietly, right as Finn flung the bathroom door open again. His mouth was in the process of opening to tell a joke when he saw the two of them and snapped it shut again with an audible click, unsure of what to do next.

Leo shared a look with Logan and a conversation passed between the two, silent but apparently crystal clear. Finn couldn’t quite tell if it was excitement or anxiety dancing in his stomach, but either way he wasn’t sure he liked the sensation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming. They’d been tip-toeing around this conversation for too long now, and they’d finally reached the tipping point. However this conversation went, he knew their relationship would never be the same, and that scared him. There was comfort in things known and familiar, after all.

This felt like hanging out of a perfectly-good plane and not knowing if the parachute strapped to his back was going to work or not.

But everyone who took the jump said it was worth it, in the end. Finn desperately hoped they were right.

“I think we should talk.” Logan said quietly, patting the open spot on the bed next to him. The dreaded words. No one ever wanted to hear those words.

Finn made his way towards them, too afraid to make eye contact, and sat down gingerly. Feet firmly planted on the floor, one hand braced on the bed, tense and ready to get up and take flight if he felt like he needed to. “We’re finally going to have this conversation, huh?” he asked with a fake laugh that fell flat, finally glancing up. Looking at the two of them, side by side and seeming to just know each other in a way Finn felt like he didn’t, he wondered where he fit into all of this.

If he fit in at all.

God, he hoped he fit in.

“Look,” Leo started, voice steady and resolute like he was getting ready to rip off the proverbial bandaid. It did nothing to calm Finn down. “Logan and I talked a while ago, about us. And, um – well, we want to be together. All three of us.”

Finn blinked once, twice. The words weren’t exactly computing, not after spending so long telling himself that this would never happen, could never happen. “Oh.”

“You had to know,” Logan said, sounding confused. “You had to know how we felt. None of us were exactly subtle.”

“I… I hoped.” Finn managed to get out before he got distracted by Logan’s soft touch against the curve of his cheekbone, creating his own constellations out of the freckles there. Finn let his eyes close and focused on the point of contact. He had hoped, even if he’d tried to stamp it out most days. He’d hoped and he’d yearned and he’d ached, and now – finally, unbelievably – he might be getting exactly what he’d wanted. “I knew how the two of you felt about each other, I just… wasn’t sure where that left me.”

“Finn…” He heard the sheets rustle as Leo scooted closer and opened his eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” Finn let Leo hold his hand and slot their fingers together, a painfully delicate motion. He stared down at them, noticing faint green bruising from an IV line and deeper, purple discoloration from that one time Finn tried to catch himself before he hit the ground after a brutal punch. They matched, in a sick, twisted way.

But they were both healing – skin stitching itself slowly back together and aches fading little by little. There was a poignant symbolism there, Finn thought, musing over the words he needed to say. Talking about the doubts and the hurt and the confusion surrounding the three of them might be painful in the moment, but healing would always follow, even if it took a while.

He was thrilled that they wanted him, don’t get him wrong, but that didn’t have the ability to just wipe away the hurt of the past week. “You seemed happy together, just the two of you.” He thought of the coffee shop and watching them from his table with June. Or the hotel room the next day, the stolen glances and furtive touches. “I didn’t want to get in the way of that, not if I wasn’t wanted.”

One of the other two made a broken sound; Finn wasn’t sure who it was. The hand on his cheek moved to his chin and Logan ducked his head to meet Finn’s eyes again, fierce and sincere – a combination that encompassed the very core of the fighter.

“I’ve wanted you since that crazy New Year’s party.” He said with conviction and Finn laughed a little at the memories.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan challenged, signaling a change in the winds. Finn could see the storm brewing in those green eyes. “We were partners. Adding a relationship to the mix would only complicate things.”

“So what changed?” Finn let his frustration bleed through, ignoring Leo’s squeeze to his hand. “You’re saying two completely different things right now and it’s confusing as hell.”

Logan bit back, voice suddenly loud and harsh. “You think this is how I wanted to fall in love?”

Leo and Finn stared at him. No one had mentioned love. Not yet, at least. Logan seemed to recognize the intensity of his words and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t take them back. Finn wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or terrified because of it.

“It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it?” the brunet asked, voice a softer murmur. “Why couldn’t the three of us be normal and meet at, like, college or a coffee shop or something?”

Silence greeted him, heavy and suffocating.

“Because these are the cards we were dealt,” Leo said finally, looking between the two of them. “And yeah, it might be a shitty hand, but don’t you think it’d be worth it? After all that we’ve been through, choosing each other instead of letting the fear pull us apart?”

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Leo shrugged his good shoulder at Logan’s words, a conscientious effort to keep the other side of his body completely still. Finn ached a little at the sight. “Love isn’t easy, not for anyone. It’s a choice you make, day after day.” Blue eyes the color of a cloudless afternoon sky were calm and free of conflict when he looked at them again. “I’ve made my choice. What about you?”

Finn stared at him for what felt like forever, then blurted, “Did you rehearse that or something? What the fuck, Nutty.”

The resulting smile on Leo’s face was a welcomed reprieve from the earlier storm, placid and radiant. How was Finn supposed to do anything else but lean over, cup his cheeks in his hands, and press his lips against that smile?

Leo kissed a little distractedly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do first. The hand not caught in a sling flitted from auburn hair to fist in his t-shirt, then migrated lower to wrap around Finn’s back, long fingers splayed against his spine. But his mouth was soft and sweet against Finn’s, returning his kisses happily, and the combination of the two were just so Leo that Finn’s stomach swooped and his heart flopped in his chest.

He pulled back for air, an unfortunate necessity, and took in the sight in front of him. Leo’s eyes were still closed and that smile still graced kiss-swollen lips as he swayed towards Finn, clearly wanting more. Finn smiled too, irrevocably charmed, and kissed his cheek, his jaw, that cute little indent in his chin, then the curve of his smile again. He could never, not in a hundred years, get enough of this.

And then Logan met his gaze from beside the blond, eyes fond and warm as he watched them and ran his fingers up and down Finn’s thigh, the motion raising goosebumps on Finn’s arms – the air dense and volatile around them like the instant before lightning struck. Finn needed to kiss him, too. To learn the difference between the way he kissed to keep up pretenses on a mission and the way he kissed when he meant it. Finn kept Leo close with a hand on his waist and tilted Logan’s head up to kiss him, deep and intense. It was thrilling and a little wild; so different from kissing Leo, but just as captivating. Always unpredictable, the kiss morphed from charged to surprisingly, achingly gentle – a thunderstorm melting into a comforting spring shower. Finn was reminded of shoving the couch up against the wall nearest to the window during storms as a kid, watching the raindrops track down the glass, and the sound of the world going silent save for the wind and the thunder and the rain hitting the roof like the pounding of drums – a symphony just for him to witness. He sighed against soft lips and sank into the kiss, listening for the intricacies of this new, unknown melody.

The rustle of clean sheets, a hitch in breath followed by a deep exhale, the steady beat of the old clock hung on the wall, a hum against his lips.

Then Leo was leaning in to kiss Finn’s pulse-point, firm enough to bruise and tender enough to make Finn’s eyelashes flutter. Finn canted his head to the side, stretching his neck to give Leo more skin to claim, and pulled Logan in again. A duet shifting to a trio and slotting perfectly into place, patching the gaps in the music that Finn didn’t even notice were there.

This was worth it. It had to be. As much as it would kill him – or any of them, really – to love them and then lose them, that would still be better than not loving them at all.

They’d wanted this for so long now, all of them. Even with all the stress and hurt and doubt, Finn couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. For fuck’s sake, he was kissing Logan. It wasn’t part of a mission. And Leo was still pressing kiss after kiss to his neck because he wanted to. They wanted each other.

Screw panicking about losing them. Finn was done missing things because he was worried about things that might not even happen. It wasn’t something he could just will away or turn off, of course, but he could actively make sure he was living in the current moment. And right then, the current moment was making out with his boys in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

He loved the current moment.

The kiss turned to simply smiling against Logan’s mouth, delirious with contentment, so Finn broke away and pulled Logan in for a hug, then gently maneuvered Leo to join them, making sure his wound was well out of the way. They stayed like that for a long time, relaxing in the closeness and adjusting to the newness of all of this. And even though it was new, it was already something they were quickly getting addicted to. The string connecting Finn’s heart to theirs cinched tighter and pulled sharply. For the first time, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. It was no longer a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have, it was an exhilarating sign that were all irreversibly intertwined, both in each other’s arms and in this crazy mess that was their lives.

Leo interrupted the moment with a yawn, blinking sleepily. Finn smiled a little at the sight – he almost felt like he was doing too much of that in the past few minutes, but sleepy Leo was simply adorable.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Logan urged. It would be a tight squeeze, the three of them in that bed, but now they could cuddle and press close without pretending it didn’t happen the next morning. Finn sighed happily at the thought and headed for the light switch. The light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminated his way back to his boys, all soft and stretched out next to each other under a pale comforter. It was a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of their current situation that Finn was all to eager to take advantage of.

He watched as Logan propped himself up on one arm to look down at Leo, hand trailing through that tuft of gray hair and then tugging on it playfully. They shared a smile before Logan leaned down the rest of the way to kiss him, assured and familiar and unrushed. They’d done this before. The knowledge didn’t tear at Finn’s heart like it would have a week ago, because now he knew that they felt the same way about him. And he was falling for them, too. Watching the two boys he was half in love with already so comfortable and loving with each other? How was Finn supposed to handle all the emotions bubbling over in his chest? He crawled into bed next to Logan and flicked the lamp off, settling the room into darkness.

Logan settled in to sleep facing Finn and with Leo’s reassuring warmth behind him. His eyes closed and time slowed, a blessed mercy. The events of tomorrow felt years away in that still, quiet moment. But there was something prodding at the back of Logan’s mind – some strange, uncomfortable feeling that he could quite place, until he realized that everything was too still, too quiet. His mind flashed to the litany of “what ifs” that had looped in his brain like a mantra back in that hospital room and he rolled over quickly, shuffling over until his head was pillowed on Leo’s chest, far away from the bandages.

Thump-thump.

Leo’s chest rose and fell under Logan’s head as he breathed and Logan let himself relax, reaching blindly behind him until he found Finn’s arm and flung it over himself, loosely intertwining their fingers over his chest. Finn moved in closer to press against his back and tangle their legs together. He sighed before going still again, breaths deep and even.

And Logan finally, finally let himself drift off to sleep.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

And The Chosen One was born

Lily woke up tired and feeling like hell. The day before, Alice, one of her school mates from Hogwarts gave birth to her child. And they (James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, Mary and Dorcas) decided to celebrate. Celebrate life. They actually found every situation worth celebrating through those dark times.

It was funny that Lily and Alice got pregnant at the same time. And Lily expected her child soon. But not today.

"James" said Lily waking her husband

"Mm" he murmured clearly still asleep.

"James!" Lily shouted this time

"I love you too babe" he said half sleep

"James. My water broke"

James woke up instantly with no color on his face.

"What?" he said "Arrg my head"

Lily didn't drink but surely the rest did, including James.

She pointed to the wet sheets. Holy shit. James realized what was happening. "Oh shit" he tried to stand up but fall out of bed.

Lily wanted to be serious but she couldn't avoid laughing. But she got a contraction.

"Ouuch. Shit" she said trying to stand up "I need to go to St. Mungos now".

"Okay, okay" James said helping Lily to stand up. "Let's go"

"Maybe you need some trousers?" Lily said smiling

"Oh shit" James said looking down "Right" James hurried up putting some pants. They didn't change the robes from the previous party. Lily would love a shower and some tea but they didn't have time.

Lily didn't have time to suck it all in. She was having a baby but she just couldn't think too much. She just felt happy. She was surrounded by people she loved.

James carried her downstairs were Remus, Sirius and Peter were scattered across the living room. The place was a mess.

"Wake up lads!" James shouted "Wake up, wake up!" he said pushing his friends "I'm gonna be a father"

"Whot?" Sirius said with his eyes still closed.

"Move it people. We're having a baby!" Lily shouted.

The boys woke up in shock. They looked like hell for the drinking last night. And they were a mess trying to get dressed and cleaning up a bit.

"Merlin, I wanna puke" said Peter

"No time for that" James said now really awake and exicted "I'm gonna be a father right now. Holy shit let's go we should apparate. Wait, can pregnant women apparate?" Lily adored how cute James was when he was nervous.

"No. I don't think that is a good idea" Remus said yawning "She'll get dizzy"

"Then what?"

"Stop shouting Prongs" Sirius said in a low voice "Can I get a coffee first?"

"No time for that Padfoot!" James shouted "I'm having a bloody baby!"

"Stop shouting at me! It was you who decided to have one!"

"I'm not shouting!"

"Hello? Lads?" Lily was saying feeling more and more pain.

"Shut up" Remus finally said "Everybody calm down. Okay. Lily we will go through the Floo Network. Prongs. You and Padfoot should aparate to St. Mungos first to get a room. And Wormtail"

He looked at Peter who had fallen asleep on the couch again.

"Peter!"

Peter woke up "Yeah, yeah I'm awake. I'm awake"

"Go and warn the girls"

"Okay"

"Lily I love you okay?" James told his wife "You are going to be fine. You just have to push the baby out, right?"

"James calm down, ok?" she said smiling "I'm fine. Aren't I?"

"Yeah I'm the one who is nervous. I don't know what I'm nervous. I'm gonna be a father. Hell yeah. Oh my Merlin. I'm fine"

"Okay, calmed boy. Let's go" said Sirius. And they apparated. Also Peter.

Remus and Lily smiled

"Are you okay?" he asked

"Yeah. Seriously if James was the one pregnant he would've die of stress by now"

Remus laughed at that.

They got to St. Mungos. Giving birth was one of the worst things that Lily experienced. Healers shouting, her shouting, James couldn't stay still. And it hurt, it hurt like a bitch. But all of it was worth it when Lily heard the baby crying.

"It's a boy" the healer said "Congratulations" And then she handed her the baby. He was beautiful. So tiny. Lily was scared he will breake. Lily felt her heart warming up. And she had tears in her eyes. Tears of joy.

She look to James, who was also crying. "Oh Merlin Lily" he sniffed "We made that. We made him and he is so perfect"

Lily smiled "I know" James kissed her forehead and smile to the baby.

Minutes later the others came in. They all smiled looking at the baby. They all wanted to hold him. And they all joked on how unfortunate it was that he looked like James. But the good thing was that he got her eyes. But Lily didn't care. She was so happy. She loved that baby more than anything in this world. And she just met him.

"So what's the name?" Marlene said holding the baby herself "How are you gonna call him?"

Lily looked at James. They had planned all kind of names months ago. For boys and girls. And they decided on one. Lily smiled. "Harry. His name is Harry James Potter" she said Everyone clapped and cheered. Sirius joked about how stupid that name was but he obviously loved it.

"I was going to ask you to be his godfather Padfoot, but if you don't want to..." said James

"What?" said Sirius rather shocked "Are you joking? I would love too!" he shouted "Wait, what is a godfather exactly?"

"I'll explain you later" said James smiling

"Okay. We should take a picture" Remus said holding a wizard camera.

"Good idea" said James "but you should be there too"

"I'll do it" said a healer who was there. Everyone posed next to Lily who was holding the new born Harry on the bed.

Exactly 21 years later, the very same Harry Potter was looking at that picture. His parents with big fat smiles and watered eyes. Sirius, Remus on their younger version. And three girls who appeared to be Marlene Dorcas, and Mary, who Harry had heard about. And even Peter who Harry didn't even pay attention for obvious reasons. They all looked so happy.

If only they knew all that what was going to happen. Harry thought.

Ginny came in stunning in her robes. She was so beautiful. Red haired like his mother. When Harry saw her, he instantly smiled. He loved that girl so much. "What are you doing here all by yourself looser?" Ginny said "You know this is your Birthday party, right?"

Harry laughed "I was looking at this" he said showing her the picture. Ginny took a peek.

"It's from the day I was born" Harry continued "They look so happy. My parents"

"Of course they were. They just had you" Ginny gave Harry a kiss on his cheek. "Little did they know they just gave birth to the most amazing person ever" Harry smiled to Ginny. And then he kissed her. All sorts of feelings burst into his chest. He wanted to stay with her like that forever.

"Okay" said Ginny "We have to go back to your party. Or mum will kill you. She wants you to blow the candles"

"Or..." said Harry "You can give me my Birthday present now"

Harry smirked raising his eyebrows.

"Keep wishing Potter"

And Ginny dragged Harry out if the room into the party while whispering "Maybe later".

[icyymocha]

Damaged Hours

Warnings: Trauma, fluff, and angst

Word count: 2,010k

Authors Note***

Okay, uh hi! This is my first fanfic so please go easy on. I really hope you enjoy it as i did since I’m really proud of writing this! This took forever since it was my first time writing here but I had really fun writing it since writing is like a stress reliever and it’s one of my favorite things to do as a hobby, so yeah! Enjoy!💚💚

Looking in the mirror, blue eyes stared back at the former soldier. A look of disgust was shown on his face as he looked at his body. Filled with scars from torture and battles made he wanted to puke. He didn’t like the way he looked. His eyes gazed at his left arm. Subconsciously, Bucky let his metal arm rested to his side. Filled with unsettled memories and nightmares that have a bloodbath of a past; he wished he ripped his metal arm piece by piece. It was a reminder of who he was. he was a murder. he was reminded of all the killing, the torture he did to innocent people. How he abused that power of his. 

Bucky shook his head. No. It was all Hydra’s doings, not him. He wasn’t the monster people paint him to be. Then why do people fear you? It wasn’t Hydra who killed thousands of people. It was you who hurt those Innocent people. You killed them with your bare hands. a voice in the back of his head whispered. He shook his head even more. 

“N-no” Bucky breathed out shakily 

It’s all your fault. You couldn’t save them. You watched people die because of you. Because of you, people hate you. You’re a failure. you failed them. You failed Steve. You failed everyone. Bucky’s form was shaking; gripping his hair in his hands, tears were forming at the corners of his eyes. His breathing was uneven. 

How can they love you when you’re a murder with blood on his hands? They don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve anything. 

You’re a monster who hurt loved ones. You’re a monster. Nothing more than a broken one. 

a loud crack was heard. The mirror shattered; pieces falling slowly. Blood dripping from his right arm, the pain was unbearable. Yet he kept punching. Until there was no more glass to pierce his skin. 

He screamed out—his voice cracking. Bucky fell to his knees, his metal arm pounding at the floor. 

“NonononoNoNoNo!” Bucky shouted. The voices were right. How could people like them love a murder like him? He was nothing but a mere shell of what he used to be. He had blood on his past and a history filled with the desire to hunt for the blood of innocent people who cried for help. He was a monster. Bucky silently began to cry.

A door creaked open, but Bucky didn’t seem to care. All he felt was pain. if he was gonna die any second he’d be happy to die now. Knowing if he died, he wouldn’t be able to cause any more pain to people. They would’ve hadn’t to die by the bare metal of his hand. 

“...Bucky?” A whisper was heard. His body froze and tensed but he did nothing. The voices were loud but the whisper was louder. Soft pattered feet came towards him. Bucky sensed them stopping, wondering what their next moves are. A gentle hand touched his back, electric sparks shivering from his spine.

It felt like fire scorched through his body and cooled down a hot second after. Bucky snarled and swiftly turned. His metal arm gripping tight at the intruder. The hand no longer touching his back. When his blurred vision allowed him to see clearer, his eyes widened.  

His lover standing in front of him. Their worried eyes trained on his, frowning at the pain from the tight grip of his metal arm. They were sure their arm was going to have bruised the next day but they didn’t care. Bucky quickly released his hold on them and scattered away until his back hit the wall. His lover had a surprised look on their face before walking towards him. 

“....No—stop” Bucky whispered. His voice hoarse from too much screaming. 

“...Bucky…” they frowned, inching their way towards him. He shook his head, putting a barrier between him and them. “Doll, please don’t come near me, I-I’m a monster. I’m not worth your time to check up on me. please.” Bucky whimpered. Bringing his knees to his knees. His lover tsk. Reaching out, they put their hands on his shoulders, waiting for Bucky to react and back away. But he didn’t. 

You began to rub his shoulders in comfort. Giving him a sympathetic look. 

Gently grasping his chin, you caressed his cheek. Bucky flinched at the soft contact. His eyes looking away, anywhere but your eyes. You sighed.

“Bucky, look at me, please?” You asked quietly, soothing furrowed creases in his face. It took a while but Bucky finally faced you. His blue eyes are boring into yours. Your breath hitches. They were red strained and puffy from crying. You don’t know how long Bucky had been crying for, but whatever that’s bothering him set something off that made him be this way. His face was streaked with dried tears, the way he looked so disheveled broke something inside your heart as cliché as it sounded. 

“Oh Bucky, I can’t have you tell me everything. I know you have a past you despise so much, with your metal arm to the person that Hydra forced you to become. But Please just let me in. I want to help you in any way I can” you smiled sadly. Caressing his cheek as you watched him closed his eyes leaning into your touch.

“I-I...It’s too painful Doll. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the monster whom I’ve become. A monster with an arm that killed thousands of people...I don’t want to—I don’t want” Bucky choked out. you shushed him. Grabbing Bucky’s left arm, he immediately retracted his arm until you brought it back to your chest. Bucky made noises of protests but you gave him a stern look. Slowly, you rub the knuckles soothingly. Even if Bucky can’t feel the softness of your gentle touches, it still sends shivers down his spine. Each knuckle you soothe, you gave a kiss in return. You kissed the inside of his palm, looking at him in the eyes while doing so. Then the backside of his hand, and up to his bicep. Nearing the end, you gave a sweet kiss to his jawline before going back to his knuckles. 

Looking at his metal arm and back to Bucky. Bucky’s heart melted. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know whether it was the way his lover adored him and even loved him for his metal arm, or the hushed whispers of praises only for him to hear. Whatever it was, he loved it. But Buck still frowned. His lover didn’t like that. You narrowed your eyes at him before intertwining your hand with his. You watched as the metal clang with each other as they intertwined with yours, the way his hand gripped tightly onto yours. Like he doesn’t want you to let go any second, afraid you might disappear. you put your guys intertwined hand to your face as you lean towards the touch. Briefly close your eyes, you smiled. 

“Even in your most damaged hours, I will always love you no matter what you’ve been through Buck,” you said in a hushed tone. Opening your eyes, tears were swelling up. As tears fell, Bucky panicked. With his non-biomechanical arm, he quickly wiped the tears away. He gulped. Did he do something wrong? Was it his fault for making you cry? 

You looked at the familiar stare, hearing his thoughts in his head. You chuckled. “It’s okay Buck, I'm okay, it’s not your fault. You didn’t make me cry, I was just being emotional” although a bit relieved, Bucky still didn’t feel quite happy with your response. Shaking your head, you let your intertwined hand down into your lap, as you looked down. 

“No matter what happens, like I said I will always love you for you. You are not a monster. You are not the winter soldier anymore. You are James Buchanan Barnes. You’re my Bucky.” 

Your Bucky. 

If his heart didn’t melt at the words coming out of your mouth, he was sure his heart exploded. Your Bucky. Butterflies began to erupt in his stomach when a sudden warmth engulfed him. He froze for a moment. He was hesitant to hug you back. Slowly but surely, Bucky hugged you back. 

For the first time in years before his time in World War II and his time with Hydra, Bucky felt safe. He felt safe in your arms; he felt at home. Bucky broke down. 

His cries made your heart clenched. His grip on you tightened as he buried his face in your neck. His small “I’m sorry,” “thank you,” and “I love you” spilled out of his mouth as he weeps. Letting his guard break down for you. Bucky finally let you come into his heart that he locked away for so long. 

Rocking Bucky back n’ forth, you cradled him. You quietly let words of praises in his ears, letting him know that you poured your love for him. You rubbed his back soothingly, kissing each scar your hand touches.

 It went on for quite a while. Soaking in the moment of quietness, you peeled away from him. Feeling his grip tightened even more, his metal arm securing your waist. 

“Don’t leave me,” he murmured. Your eyes softened, leaning back against the wall. You shift until you’re comfortable in his arms. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Buck. Not now, not ever.” You mumbled, tightening your hold in his arms. Bucky playing with the ends of your hair. 

You hummed quietly, kissing the crown of Bucky’s head before quietly asking,

“Who are you?” 

Bucky stopped playing with your hair, letting the three words soak in. You’re the winter soldier. A murder. You’re a monster. The voices whispered in his head. Bucky shook his head. He closed his eyes, training on the way your tender touch threaded his hair. 

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes. I’m not the winter soldier. I’m not a monster.” Bucky breathed out shakily. You kissed his forehead.

“Good, now say it again but stronger” feeling Bucky nodded, Bucky licked his lips. 

“I am James Buchanan Barnes. Formerly known as Bucky. I am no longer the winter soldier. And… I’m not a monster” Bucky wavered. 

“Louder” you remind him, holding his metal hand. You kissed it. 

“I am James Buchanan Barnes and I’m known as Bucky. I am not the winter soldier I used to be. I’m no longer the winter soldier anymore. And, I’m not a monster,” Bucky repeated for the third time. This time, his voice was a lot more confident and stern. If it weren’t for the serious moment, you would’ve laughed at his cute pout, but seeing this that he needs this moment the most. You do anything to make him feel like himself. 

“I’m so proud of you” you grinned. Peppering kisses all his face, purposely teasing him at the corner of his lips. Bucky rolled his eyes and huffed. 

“Yes, I know. Here’s your prize Bucky,” you rolled your eyes before giving him a sweet kiss. The kiss was slow and passionate. Savoring the moment the couple closed their eyes, happy to enjoy the warmth that surrounds the both of them. They pulled away, breath heavy. 

You looked at Bucky’s eyes. His eyes were still shown doubt hidden beneath the love that he holds for you. It would take months maybe even years for him to be himself, but you’re gonna stay by his side to help him break his shell. You made a vow to yourself that you’ll do anything to make Bucky feel himself. But right now, you’d let him hide in the crook of your neck and enjoy the quietness in your guy’s shared room. 

“I love you…” he quietly said. Yeah, that’s the reason you’d let him hide in your arms. Because you love him, and you know he loves you too.  

[sims2bellaswan]

Fascinating [Childe | Tartaglia x Reader]

[TW: STALKING, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE] [SFW]

AO3 VERSION

After a monumental loss, Tartaglia becomes fascinated with you. [AFAB reader]

Here, you stood before the 11th Harbinger, Tartaglia. In a cold, stone chamber, echoing the gentle sound of water and scented with the smells of soft moss and rotting wood. Your shoes clicked on the cobble almost hesitantly.

“Oh, no! Please, don’t hesitate for my sake, you were doing so well.” The smile he wore was laced into his voice. “You killed the fatui agents, yes?”

All you could manage was a nod, then a thick swallow. Your nerves ran wild. You weren’t prepared to fight him. Trying to relax, you moved from your ready position to a casual stand, the grip on your weapon loosening ever so slightly. You’ve learnt on more than one occasion that frayed nerves lead to a loss.

“Good, good! Then, you’ll be quite the challenge.” Beyond the cheery voice was something different. Something malicious that knew you’d fail.

He knew he’d prove victorious. If the mighty beasts and monsters of the underground couldn’t kill him, what made you think you could? You were weak, it was humorous to even attempt.

No, he wanted to prove to you, specifically, that he was the superior warrior. This game of cat and mouse the two of you had been playing grew boring at this point. He let you catch him here. He wanted to see if you had it in you. To see if you had the guts to give your all.

The battle ended unceremoniously. Routinely boring. You had given it your all, clearly that wasn’t enough. It certainly wasn’t enough for him.

Enough time had passed where you had eventually gotten over your complete defeat. Your bruises faded from a deep purple to yellow, the gashes in your muscles healed well, which you thanked medicinal herbs for. You had new scars, blooming red holes from the arrows that pierced the little armor you had then. But, you knew they would fade with time too. Thankfully, you remained emotionally unaffected from the battle. Sure, it sucked to lose but you knew that if you kept up your hard work, it wouldn’t happen again.

The same could not be said for Tartaglia or rather, Childe, as he was known outside of ‘business’ related circles. He won; normally, he’d move on and find bigger baddies to bully.

Normally, he wouldn’t feel a need to keep an eye on you.

In the first week following your battle, it began as scientific curiosity. He was far more interested in who you trained with than what you did in your free time. Until, he reasoned with himself, it became necessary to look out for you in your free time.

Weeks grew into months of simply studying. Learning your go-to moves by watching you train, knowing how you’d respond by eavesdropping on your conversations. Your group was nothing to bat an eye at, not nearly as interesting as you proved to be.

Waiting for the perfect moment to approach you was probably one of the most stressful moments of his life. You were always with someone, whether it be that levitating, little woman or one of your teammates. They all seemed fiercely protective of you and despite his need to lord himself over you again, he didn’t need their heat as well.

The sun filtered down through the clouds, offering little warmth in the cooling day. You weren’t training or off doing quests for the Knights. Nor, were you with your damned team or that little lady. Now was perfect. Leaving his hiding spot, where he had quietly noted every movement of yours, he dashed to catch up to you.

“You know, wolves run around all over this area.” His arm snaked over your shoulder. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

You froze for a moment before breaking away from his grip and readying your weapon. There was a silent moment of growing tension between the two of you.

He laughed, not even bothering to match your energy. “I only came to offer a rematch!” He held up his hands in defense. “I beat you so mercilessly, I felt bad afterwards.”

You relaxed, standing back up and sheathing your sword. “What are the terms?” You were nothing if not careful, he liked that about you.

“You’re on your way to Snezhnaya, yes?” He began walking, which you had to scramble to keep up with. “I’ll meet you there, we rematch then.” Turning on his heel, he walked backwards to get a good look at your reaction. “My turf, my rules.”

Your face fell, annoyed that you’d have to follow along with whatever dirty tricks Tartaglia had planned for you. “Fine.” You gripped the strap of your bag as you walked. “But, I reserve the right to decline if I don’t like your rules.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport.” He grinned, waving to you. “See you there!” And, off he went.

The journey to Snezhnaya was cold, which was the only word you could come up with to match how you felt. Snow fluttered down and stuck in piles around the path. Little wildflowers, shining with a blue sheen in the winter sun, frame the signposts and fences. Your fingers felt like they were going to fall off.

Meeting with Tartaglia wasn’t as cold, in fact, the inn was pleasantly warm. The two of you held a comfortable silence for a moment before beginning your discussion, quietly drinking your tea while he took a quick shot of some clear wine. He said it would warm you up but you declined.

The terms of your rematch were as follows, this is what you agreed to: The two of you would rematch exactly as you did the first time, weapons and all. No teammates, no tag-ins, which was good because your team didn’t accompany you to Snezhnaya. No dirty moves, but hand to hand was permitted. Unlike your first fight, it wasn’t life or death.

“What happens when one of us loses?” You stir honey into your tea.

He grinned, he had been waiting for you to ask after all. “If you win, I will beg you to be gracious enough to train me.”

“And if I lose?”

“If you lose, I want to train you.” Which essentially means, he will get to be by your side either way. And, he knows he won’t lose. While the fight itself is fair in every sense of the word, Tartaglia has done his homework. He’s studied you since you lost the first time, but you didn’t need to know that.

“Train me in your dirty fighting style? I think not.” You sneered slightly, not worried about how rude you came off.

“Dirty?” He acted mock-offended. “I won fair and square.” He found himself enthralled in your bitterness.

Beyond the agreement, you two continued in light banter. He found it delightful to get to actually speak with you. Watching you pour yourself glass after glass to give yourself a reason to ignore his prying questions. You powered through until you retired for the night, the real battle would be the next morning.

Here, you stood before the 11th Harbinger. Tartaglia’s cockiness became almost tangible as he strut about the arena, awaiting your ready.

The cold cobblestone would shiver beneath you if it could. You did shiver, painful tears pricking at your eyes when the wind picked up. Your knuckles whitened as your grip on your sword tightened. Knees bent, you readied.

You were able to dodge the first few arrows, much to Tartaglia’s discontent. “You’ve gotten better, girlie!” You lunge forward and he uses it as a chance to pull you in.

Inches from your nose, his breath warms your cheeks. He opens his mouth to say something but you pull away before he can put it together.

Running a hand through his hair, he readies another arrow. Pulling, letting go, hitting you in the arm. It lodged itself in your muscle, right in the gap between your armors. You pull in a tight breath, then continue with your stance.

Swallowing the pain is the hardest part. His arrows feel barbed when they rip through your skin and plant themselves in your flesh. You break the arrow at the base, if you pulled it out, you’d bleed out sooner.

Tartaglia sees this as another window of opportunity. “Nevermind, I think you’ve gotten worse.” He taunts you. He doesn’t actually think this. If he hadn’t done his homework so well, you would’ve taken him by surprise. That’s something that doesn’t happen often. “Though, I’ve seen you train.” He has the upper hand here.

“Do you hold yourself back when we fight?” You break his train of thought. “Because you’re doing an awful lot of chatting.” He didn’t chat nearly this much the first time you two met. You grimaced. Your arm hurt.

“Not anymore.” He smiled, dashing towards you. His elbow rips through the air and hits square on your shoulder, opposite the arrow wound. Breath escapes you. “You know, I wondered if you were holding back.” His foot keeps you to the ground, you think you might puke. “But, when I saw you train, you were sloppy.”

“Saw me train?” You gasped out, chest heaving. The cold air felt too thin to breath.

“Among other things.”

“I win.” His foot removed, he held out his hand. Waiting, patiently, for you to take it, hoist yourself up. You never took it. He wasn’t offended.

In fact, it invigorated him. He takes a knee over you. “I can’t quite figure out why I do the things I do.” He grabs your jaw. “You cast some spell on me. All I can think about is you.”

[honey-andtea1889]

Cinnamon Rolls and Pumpkin Spice

AN: Hi babies! So I am obsessed with Fall and I want to do this with someone eventually because I’m v lonely and want to express my hopeless romantic side to literally everyone on the Internet lol and I chose the song because this is literally one of my favorite songs ever and I feel like it fits so well with this!! Please request things my lovelies! 

Summary: Matthew just wants to spend his one day off with Y/N

Song: I Remember You by Seth MacFarlane

Warnings: Extreme fluff, like might make you puke glitter kinda fluff

Word Count: 1974 (kinda small but still)

October is one of Matthew’s favorite months. He loved the smell of the fresh fall air, the crunchy leaves under his feet, Halloween, and just the overall aesthetic of the season. He also enjoyed the cooler temperatures only because that meant more snuggles from his girl. It’s been hard recently due to filming movies and working on his new book, but you were so understanding of it all. That’s what Matthew adored about you.

You knew that with dating an actor, he’d be away filming movies or tv shows, doing what he loves. That’s what you admired about Matthew. He was so passionate about his work and took pride in everything he did. You were so proud of him and everything he accomplished. Not to say he wasn’t proud of you either. You had been attending college and you’ve been working so hard with your course work. 

One of the props to days like this is that both you and Matthew had the day off together. You both had been working so hard and definitely deserved a break. It was also very rare that the two of you had days off together. Usually, it would alternate which made it hard to see each other throughout the day but you two always made time in the evening to catch up and talk about how the day went.

Matthew woke up to the warm feeling of the Fall sun beaming through the shared bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and yawned as he turned over to you. A smile graced his face as he saw you asleep next to him. He ran his fingers over your cheek as he admired your features. He noticed how your mouth was slightly opened as you breathed in and out. Your hair was a messy due to tossing and turning, dreaming sweet dreams. The blankets covered you comfortably, making you look like a cute little burrito.

Matthew could feel his heart expand and he studied you. Your eyes soon flutter open to be met with his chocolate brown eyes. You smile and snuggle closer to him, feeling his body heat take over you.

“Good morning, Darling.” Matthew whispered, kissing your head.

“Good morning, my love.” You smiled.

You glanced up at the man you are so lucky to call your boyfriend and begin to play with his hair. He chuckles as you continue to tamper with the growing locks that you’ve come to adore oh so much. 

You and Matthew have been dating for almost two years now, which was a huge accomplishment on your end because you weren’t really into the dating scene. He was actually the first person in a long time to have you even consider dating. It was almost love at first sight. the two of you have pretty much been inseparable since. 

Matthew kissed your lips sweetly as you snuggled into his neck. 

“So, what’re our plans today lovie? You choose.” You said as you ran your fingers up and down his chest. 

Matthew sighed contently and thought about the one thing he’d want to do. His smile began to break through as he looked down at you with gleaming eyes. You raised an eyebrow as he bit into his lip. 

“If you want my honest answer, I really just want to stay home with you. maybe we can bake up some stuff and watch a movie! We haven’t really had a day where we just stayed home and relaxed with each other, think we may be long overdue for that.” Matthew grinned. 

You beamed at the idea. 

He wasn’t wrong. The two of you never really had an at home day. Either you were at school or the library and Matthew was out doing actor stuff. It wasn’t easy and sometimes, it became very stressful on you both. An R&R (rest and relaxation) day is just what the Doctor ordered. 

“Okay! Do you want breakfast?” You asked as you shot out of bed. 

Matthew chuckled at your enthusiasm, moving over and planting his feet on the floor. 

“That doesn’t sound bad. But if I can be frank, we do have pancakes and eggs often, can I make a new suggestion?” He asked. 

“Of course baby, I never mind switching things up.” You winked. 

Matthew smirked back at you as he stood up and stretched out his lanky limbs. 

“How about Cinnamon Rolls? My mom could text me her recipe and we can make them ourselves!” he said as he made his way to you. 

You giggled as you took his hand and led the way downstairs into your shared kitchen. You and Matthew have been living together for about three months now and you couldn’t be happier. He had asked while you were having lunch together at a little Bistro down the block from your college. Your heart had filled with so much love that you squealed in the middle of the small café, causing customers to stare at you two. Since then, you’ve made his snug little home into yours. 

Matthew was awaiting the text from his mom while you began to make some pumpkin spice coffee. It was one of your favorite flavors, and with how the weather was, it only made sense to divulge into the sweet flavored coffee. Matthew chuckled at your choice of drink. He didn’t mind the flavor but it wasn’t his favorite. However, he knew how you felt about it, so he never even tried to poke fun at it. 

“Ya know what movie you wanna watch?” He asked, looking up from his phone. 

“I know it’s super corny, but The Nightmare Before Christmas. I haven’t seen it in a while.” You said as you finished making your coffee. 

You took a sip of the warm liquid and sighed happily. Matthew smiled. His phone soon binged, signaling that his mother had responded with the recipe for her famous Cinnamon Rolls. Matthew handed the phone to you. You looked at the recipe and began to grab the ingredients. You began to follow the steps to create the delicious pastry. Matthew watched with attentive, loving eyes. 

Matthew had been thinking about your futures together. He knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life, he just wasn’t sure how or when he should do it. All of his friends pushed him to ask, hell even his older sister was wanting them to tie the damn knot. He just wasn't sure when was the right time. 

You slipped the freshly twisted cinnamon rolls in the oven. You cleaned up a bit and went back to sipping your coffee. 

“Do you think they’ll be as good as your mom’s?” You asked. 

“Of course they will, darling. Your cooking is amazing!” Matthew boasted. 

“Well thank you, lovie. I greatly appreciate it.” You smiled. 

Matthew leaned over the counter and pecked your lips softly. You softly placed your hand on his cheek after he pulled away and studied his features. His deep brown eyes were something you could get lost in. He had the cutest little button nose, and his full lips were a dream that you so enjoyed on yours. In your eyes, he is the most perfect human, your perfect human. 

“You know what we need? Some music!” You squealed. 

You turned to your phone and searched for the song that you and Matthew immensely enjoyed. You typed in I Remember You sung by Seth Macfarlane. Matthew broke into a smile as the sweet song began to play through the speakers. 

Was it in Tahiti? Were we on the Nile? Long, long ago Say an hour or so I recall that I saw your smile

You grinned as you slowly swayed to the song. The warm feeling took over you as the song continued. 

I remember you You're the one who made My dreams come true A few kisses ago

Matthew made his way over to you, his arms wrapping around your waist and carefully taking your delicate hand in his. The two of you began to slow dance in your kitchen, the smell of cinnamon rolls and pumpkin spice engulfing the both of you and the sound of Jazz music taking control of the sweet moment. 

The song continued to play as you danced. 

I remember you You're the one who said "I love you, too," I do Didn't you know? 

 I remember, too A distant bell And stars that fell like rain Out of the blue 

You rested your head on Matthew’s shoulder, the smell of bergamot, mahogany, and patchouli taking over your sense. You loved the way he smelled. It was warm and welcoming. He kissed your head as he spun you around the tiled floor. 

When my life is through And the angels ask me to recall The thrill of them all Then I shall tell them I remember you

  Just as the song ended, the oven beeped for the cinnamon rolls, indicating that the pastries were done. You parted with Matthew, grabbing the oven mitt and pulling the cinnamon rolls out. As they cooled, you made the delicious frosting to top off the pastries. Once you were finished with it, you poured the frosting on the cinnamon rolls and quickly cleaned up. Matthew helped himself to one and moaned at the taste of it. 

“Oh my god babe. These are amazing!” Matthew complimented as he took another bite. 

You giggled and grabbed a cinnamon roll for yourself, taking a bite of the warm pastry. 

“Come on, let’s get the movie started.” You perked, taking his hand and leading him to the living room. 

Matthew grabbed the remote and got the movie started. The opening scene to the movie gave you goosebumps as you sang along. Matthew joined you, the two of you giggling once the song was over. 

The final scene came quicker than you thought it would’ve. This scene topped every other in the movie. You were singing along with Jack and Sally, a smile breaking out on your face 

 My dearest friend, If you don't mind I'd like to join you by your side

Matthew quietly joined in as he watched you. 

Where we could gaze into the stars And sit together now and forever For it is plain as anyone could see We're simply meant to be 

The scene ended with the famous Jack and Sally kiss. You looked over to see Matthew staring at you with slight tears in his eyes. 

“Lovie, what’s wrong?” You questioned, scooting closer to him. 

“I love you so much Y/N. I really, really do. I didn’t think I’d be able to love anyone as much as I love you and I think today solidified my thoughts and feelings.” He gazed as you played with his hair. 

Matthew then proceeded to get down on one knee and your breath got caught in your throat. 

“Y/N, I don’t have a ring right now but today with dancing with you and just being with you, I know that I want days like this for the rest of my life. I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Matthew smiled as he sniffled. 

Tears ran down your cheek as you nodded quickly. You kissed him passionately. Tears both staining your faces as you shared the kiss. He pulled away and looked into your eyes as he held yours hands. 

“Sorry, I didn’t really plan this out all that well. I just couldn’t wait.” He whispered. 

You sniffled and played with his hair. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smiled. 

Matthew grinned and kissed you again. 

From here on out, Matthew wasn’t your boyfriend, he was your fiancé. 

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 17 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

~|Emily Fox|~

Charlie has not left my side since Friday and it is now Thursday. Besides splitting up for school, he’s been stuck to my side like superglue. And even during school, he didn’t leave me alone one second by constantly texting me cute messages or hilarious memes to make me smile because according to him, knowing I’m smiling makes him smile. I don’t know how I deserved to meet a guy like Charlie. “Romeo sending you cute texts again?” Madison’s voice makes me jump. “No, he’s sending me hilarious memes,” I show her my phone screen as she sits down at our lunch table, and she cracks up after a few seconds. “He’s been sending me at least one every hour.” “Aah, love language of the modern day,” she sighs dreamily with an amused smile on her face. She then fishes something out of her backpack and hands it to me. A piece of paper with Emily and The Foxes written at the top in cursive. Live at Open Mic Night, and then the address of the Music Store. “I took the liberty to create a flyer for your gig on Saturday. So many people have reacted to your post on Facebook and Instagram.” Madi is way too excited about this. “How many people?” I cringe, not really wanting to know, but I want to be prepared anyway. “A few five hundred.” I gulp loudly. “That’s a lot of people.” Madison gives me a sympathetic look, knowing that would stress me out. “I don’t know if I can perform in front of that many people.” “Emsie, you have a great band that’ll back you up no matter what. You saw what they did last Friday with your song for your uncle Bobby! They were there for you even though you never rehearsed the song. They got you.” Her words do sound reassuring, but it doesn’t calm my heart down enough. “It still makes me want to puke,” I reply with a giggle, and Madison laughs too, if not out of pity. “I did start writing a new song last night with Charlie.” I grab my songbook, open it to the page and hand it over. Madi looks at it for a second. “It’s for Uncle Mitch,” I inform her, but I think she already knows. “This sounds beautiful, I bet you and Charlie have come up with a great melody for it.” “Not yet! We’re going to work on that tonight. Sometimes he comes up with the melody first, but for this one, we wanted the lyrics right before we added the melody or the beat.” “I don’t understand anything about songwriting. But you’re the expert, so,” Madison raises her hands, making me laugh. After lunch, Madi and I head to our lockers where I find Jake leaning against mine. My heart beats faster, but not in a good way, and my hands become clammy, my body freezing entirely. Madison even bumps into me because I’d stopped so abruptly. “Oof, Emily, warn a girl before—” she stops herself when her eyes land on what I’m looking at. I’d told her about what happened at the party last week. “I swear to God…” she grumbles while rolling up the sleeves of her jumper, ready to charge forward. “What are you going to do, Mads? Punch him? Not a great idea,” I tell her in a hushed voice. “We got to do something for what he did to you, Ems! He harassed you!” I glance around to make sure no one heard her angry whispers. “Charlie already punished him enough by nearly punching him. I think he learned his lesson.” A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of Charlie’s dark, angry eyes. “If he learned his lesson, what’s he doing at your locker?!” I shrug, turning back to Jake. “I don’t know, let’s find out.” Madison wants to start arguing, but I’m already charging forward towards Jake. “Can you move, please?” I raise my voice, hoping it’ll give me some power. “Emily, hi,” Jake breathes out in a blind panic. “What do you need?” I ask as he moves out of the way, so I can get into my locker. “I just wanted to check up on you. I know your uncle’s passing was a year ago.” “It was a year ago last week, dumbass,” Madison chimes in angrily. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know,” he stutters, glancing from Madison to me. “Yes, you did, Jake,” I tell him, “You broke up with me exactly a year ago on this day after a week of me not being able to function because of my uncle’s death. You know all-too well.” “Yeah, dumbass!” Madison hypes me up with her interjections. “So, stop bothering me and get back to your girlfriend.” I grab the book I need from my locker, slam it shut and then walk away from Jake with Madison in tow. “I am shaking,” I whisper to Madison and she wraps an arm around me. “That was so good!” she whispers back, and we both head to our next class together. I can’t believe I just stood up to Jake like that. Something in me definitely wanted to punch him, but I kept my cool. I wish I punched him though.

“I nearly punched Jake in the face today,” I tell Charlie when we’re in my bedroom after school. I don’t have a shift today, so Charlie and I decided to chill in my room instead to work on our music. Mitch did have one rule though; leave the door open. “What?!” he asks in a surprised squeak. “Yeah, he was waiting at my locker after lunch, saying he wanted to check up on me because,” I lower my voice for the next part, imitating Jake, “He wanted to check up on me because he knows my uncle’s passing was a year ago today.” Charlie furrows his eyebrows. “Jake sounds more like,” he squeaks out the next words as if his voice hadn’t dropped yet, “I’m checking up on you, Emily, because I am a jerk,” he goes back to his normal voice, “You know, because his balls haven’t dropped yet.” His comment makes me laugh. “Anyway, Madi was there too and she was like ‘It was a year ago last week, dumbass’ and then he stuttered a stupid apology, being like,” I cough and higher my tone, “I didn’t know.” “That’s better,” Charlie comments, plopping down onto his stomach on the bed, propping his head up with his hand, looking up at me. “Thanks,” I say proudly, “And then I was like ‘You did know, Jake. You broke up with me a year ago’, and Madi was like ‘yeah, dumbass!’ and then I went ‘So, stop bothering me and go back to your girlfriend’ and walked away but I so nearly punched him!” “You should’ve punched him,” Charlie agrees with me, and I halt in the middle of my room, right in front of him. He gives me this amused, smug grin, which just makes me proud of myself. His smile then turns to a scowl. “I wish Jeremy would’ve let me punch him.” “What would that solve, big guy?” I squat down to his height, placing my elbows on the bed. “Nothing, I’d just like to punch him.” I smile and plant a kiss to his nose. When I get up again, he captures me by my wrist, stopping me from walking away. “Are you okay? I can imagine seeing him wasn’t amazing after what he did to you.” “I’m fine, I had a minor panic when I saw him at my locker, but I’m fine.” “Come here, let’s cuddle!” He rolls onto his side and pulls me down. “No, Charlie, we have to finish this song!” I object but let him pull me next to him anyways. “Cuddle first, then we’ll work on the song.” We’re facing each other, our foreheads pressed together. His fingers reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear; a habit of his I’ve come to adore. “You’re beautiful, do you know that?” I roll my eyes at his compliment but can’t help the blush appearing on my cheeks. “You’re pretty too,” I reply instead, which makes him frown. “I am not!” He now just looks like an angry puppy. “Yeah, you are,” I tease. Charlie’s mouth drops open, eyes widening, and before I know it, his fingers attack my stomach with tickles, sending me into a laughing frenzy. “No, stop! Stop!” I wheeze out, trying to tear his hands of me. “Char, stop!” He obeys, and as my laughter dies down, I can’t help but notice the way he’s looking at me. A feeling of love and adoration fleets throughout my body, but my brain doesn’t dare to give my lips permission to say those three words at the tip of my tongue. It does, however, give them permission to take away the space between mine and his. “I’m so happy I met you, Em—” I know he nearly calls me ‘Emmy’, but stopped himself before he could. “Like, so happy,” he adds instead and kisses me again. Now I pull away after a few seconds, like I needed his lips to mull this over. “Charlie…” I whisper, combing away strands of hair from his forehead. “Call me Emmy.” His breath hitches in his throat before his lips curl up into the most beautiful smile I ever did see. “I’m so happy I met you, Emmy,” he repeats and then just kisses me again as I relish in the feeling of being able to hear that nickname again from a person I love.

After a cuddle and make-out session of about an hour, Charlie and I detangle – much to both our dismay – and start working on our song for Saturday. The one for Mitch. We’d come up with pretty much everything, it just misses a bridge. “What if we mix the pre-chorus with that second verse?” Charlie suggests, and starts singing. His voice raspy and low. “The times that I doubted myself I felt like I needed some help Stuck in my head, with nothing left” I join in now, our voices intertwining. “And when I feel lost and alone I know that I can make it home Fight through the dark” He smiles at me, “High note, go for it,” he says quickly, leaving the last line to me. “And find the spark,” I hit the high note effortlessly. “Yes!” Charlie exclaims excitedly, “Yo, I got chills, literal chills.” He shows me his arms, filled with goosebumps. “I can’t get over how talented you are, Ems.” He’s careful with the permission of the new nickname, I see. “Same goes for you, Charlie,” I compliment him and peck his lips as a reward of some kind. “Now with some guidance of the guitar, so we can show it to the boys tomorrow?” Charlie nods and grabs the guitar he brought from home or the garage. I haven’t talked to him about home yet. I’m too scared to. We sing it once with the guitar, and then start thinking about other instruments. “Let’s start with a bit of piano?” Charlie suggests, “And just you singing?” I nod my head in agreement. “Drums, electric guitar and bass join in at the chorus, but we don’t sing yet.” I raise my eyebrows at him, not entirely sure about that idea. ��It’s your song for your uncle Mitch, Ems,” he reasons, and I can’t argue with him. Not that I don’t want to, but because he simply continues. “I’ll take the second verse?” “And Jeremy and you duet the pre-chorus, and then second chorus is all of us?” I chime in. “And we’ll alternate on the bridge?” Charlie nods his head. “Jere can guide on piano on the bridge.” “And you can hit them high notes during the last chorus when the boys join in again?” “Uhm, yeah, sure,” I reply, unsure about the high notes. I can hit a few, but I think he might overestimate my abilities a little. “This gig is going to be awesome, Emmy!” he exclaims excitedly and jumps up from the bed. “It’s a nice warm-up for my audition in a week,” I tell him absentmindedly as I write down all our ideas in my notebook. “YOUR AUDITION IS IN A WEEK?!” he yells loudly, making me jump. “Yeah, didn’t I tell you? Not this Saturday because Open Mic Night, you know, but the Saturday after that.” I don’t even look up at him until I feel the bed dip down. My eyes glance up at the boy kneeling on the bed in front of me. “You didn’t tell me that. You want me to be there?” He takes my hand in his and presses kisses to my knuckles. “Of course. I doubt I can do it without you supporting me from the sidelines.” His lips curl up until they very nearly reach his ears. “But first, Open Mic Night.” I turn to my songbook again and feel him kiss the top of my head before he gets off the bed again. His excitement is winding him up again, shooting balls of energy through his body until he becomes one. He even radiates that excitement when we have a band rehearsal on Friday when we show the boys the new song. “That sounds awesome, Emily!” Jeremy compliments giddily when we’re done explaining and showing. “Shall we open with that one?” All three of us agree with that idea. Then Charlie kisses me on the cheek when he walks past to grab his guitar. “Then Perfect Harmony?” he suggests, playing the first chords of the song on his acoustic. “I would end with Now or Never,” I chime in with my idea, which everyone agrees to. “Flying Solo third and Finally free straight after?” Owen goes on while I write them all down. “Are we allowed to play five songs?” Jeremy then asks, “I mean, we only played one the last time.” I feel one corner of my mouth tug upwards into a smirk. “I work here, Jere, of course we can.” A giggle eludes from his mouth. I love the boys’ excitement about everything. They often remind me of a huddle of excited puppies or curious squirrels. “Any other song we want to add?” “Ooh!” Charlie exclaims excitedly, “Do you want to do the song you played to that girl?” “Wake Up?” I ask, and he nods vigorously. “I mean, sure, but it’s been a while since I played that and it’s just piano though?” “It could be the song we play to emphasize the Emily in Emily and The Foxes?” Owen suggests, to which Charlie just nods his head again. “I’m not going to sing a song without you guys,” I tell them and move over to the piano. “Then we’ll add some drums and bass,” Jeremy sums up, and Charlie coughs as to tell his buddy not to forget about him, “And guitar.” “I mean… If you guys really want to do that…” “Yes! Babe, that song is amazing!” I’m a bit taken aback by the pet name Charlie uses. He suddenly goes from excited puppy to solemn, shy Charlie I’d seen appear a couple of times the first few days of meeting him. “That’s the song you played when I first laid eyes on you.” While Owen and Jeremy let out an ‘aw’, mostly to tease Charlie, I think, I smile up at Charlie. “It definitely has potential for a good Emily and The Foxes song, I guess?” I play the first few notes on the piano, being reminded of the song I wrote with Uncle Bobby. “And how about that Sirens song?” Owen asks, which makes me stop playing abruptly. “No, we can play Sirens at rehearsals, but not at gigs. I want to keep that song for us,” I answer determinedly. Owen simply nods, understanding what that song means to me. “So, for Saturday it’s Bright - Perfect Harmony – Flying Solo – Finally Free – Wake Up – Now or Never?” Jeremy asks, just for reassurance. “Yes,” Charlie and I say in unison. I’m still a little nervous about Wake Up, but I’m sure we’ll be fine after a couple of rehearsals. We even nailed Flying Solo after rehearsing for an hour and I know Wake Up by heart. “Are we nervous for our first official gig? Because I am,” Owen laughs nervously, wringing his hands. I pat the spot beside me on the bench in front of the piano, which he then takes, sighing nervously. I play a couple of notes, letting the melody flow out into the room. “I’m nervous too,” I tell him softly, “But I know as long as I have you guys, nothing can go wrong because you guys have my backs. Always,” I look up at him, but don’t stop playing. Owen offers me the sweetest smile ever. “We have each other’s backs, always.” He nods his head agreeingly. His arms snake around my waist as he hugs me sideways, and before I know it, Charlie has his arms around my neck and Jeremy’s hugging Owen. “See, I told you,” I whisper to the boy next to me. “We’ll be fine,” Owen reassures himself more than me, but it does work for me too. No matter what happens. We’ll always have each other. We’ll always be more than a band.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @ashleyleblancx @calamitykaty @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @lolychu @hemmingsness​ Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[piracytheorist]

A Kiss for Good Luck (4/14)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: Prepare thyselves, here be angst. And warnings. Next update will come on Saturday, then from next week updates will come every Tuesday and Friday.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings) Warnings: This chapter contains minor character death, cancer, child abandonment, and some minor child abuse.

Word count for this chapter: 2.6k (47k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

~

Chapter 4: Killian Jones, August 11th 1995 – October 31st 2000

Killian doesn't expect to get the girl's name from two policemen who were searching for her. They say she was sneaking out and that they need to get her back home.

He looks at her as she's leaving; her head is low and she doesn't look back at him.

He steps away from the children still playing. He's not in the mood anymore, he's feels more like... eating something... or running to the bathroom to puke. He's not really sure.

He's certain he knows his first hardship on the difficult trip back to England. While still at the airport in Boston, his mother keeps saying something about an "immigration office" as she talks to his father on a payphone, eventually hanging up angrily. She apologizes to Killian and tells him they'll figure things out soon.

They miss their flight. He's too tired to calculate but he's sure they stay in the airport for more than a day, hardly getting any sleep on the hard chairs of the lobby. He's lucky he's got his mama's lap to rest his head on, at least.

He spends a few good hours trying to remember the girl's name; Liam would be so curious to find out about his younger brother's first kiss, and he can't even remember her name! Anna? Enya? No, he would've remembered such a name.

After even more hours they reach home tired, unwashed and hungry, and for the first time he hears his parents fight.

That same night, still shaken by hearing the fight, he goes to his brother's room. They just sit together, looking at Liam's star light that projects constellations on the ceiling. He thought that, upon coming back, he'd spend hours telling him everything about the summer school, and Boston, and having his first kiss, and flying on a plane... instead they just sleep next to each other, and for the first time he understands why some of his friends had said that they sleep with their parents after a nightmare.

That night is, actually, the first time Killian ever has a nightmare.

It only takes a week. He would later consider it the calm before the storm. Calm, or more like quiet, because his friends don't talk to him much, which he interprets as jealousy because he had the trip and they didn't.

But the storm hits exactly one week after they've gotten back; his mother passes out while coming home from work. Some long hours of Liam babysitting him later, his father brings her home from the hospital.

He's never seen their faces so saddened before.

He has so many questions, ones that fifteen-year-old Liam apparently doesn't. Like, what cancer is, and why it's bad that it's fast-acting. What is chemo and why is it too late for it to have effect? Why does mama have to stay in bed so much?

"How long will you stay in bed?" he asks that out loud.

"A few months," his father says.

Another question; why is mama not talking at all?

"And then you'll be up, mama?"

She looks at him, and tears fall from her eyes. She stands up slowly, sits between her two sons on the couch and holds them close.

Killian cannot explain it, but somehow, he knows. Somehow, the knowledge sets itself in his mind as if it were always there.

That October 24th is the most underwhelming birthday he has had. He's so used to big parties and celebrations and gifts, that a simple cake shared between the four of them around the quiet table feels out of place for a birthday.

They never tell him anything, but it doesn't come as a surprise when two weeks before Christmas his father starts preparing a black attire for himself and the boys.

He takes one black dress for mama, too, though Killian knows someone else will put it on her.

The house is silent when they leave for the funeral, and it feels even more silent when they come back.

Killian has a feeling that it will never stop being that.

This night it's Liam who comes into Killian's room and sleeps next to him.

Time becomes a blur; it's one of the days where Liam sleeps next to him that Killian wakes up early, and father isn't home. He doesn't worry much, he just tries to spend time on the TV. Only one channel has signal, and though normally Killian hates listening to the news, he prefers that over the silence now.

He remembers it's a Saturday, but father still hasn't come home when Liam wakes up and takes up making breakfast for the two of them. Killian offers to help, but he burns his hand trying to make an omelette and Liam, with a patience Killian doesn't think he deserves, takes over for him.

Had Killian known more, he would have realized that on any other day he would be getting stressed and angry. Instead, he feels empty – almost as if anticipating the news that, by two days later, become a reality.

Their father left them. He took clothes and personal documents, withdrew all the money they had in the bank, including Killian's and Liam's college funds, and apparently sold their home two days before he left.

Killian didn't cry at mama's funeral. He didn't cry when the social worker confirmed that father had left by his own choice and left them with nothing. But when they tell him that there aren't any foster families that will take both brothers together, Killian breaks down sobbing.

He can't... he can't lose him too.

"I'll visit, brother," Liam says, his voice shaking. "I will call you every day."

Killian trembles in his brother's arms. He'd rather not have a home than not have him right now. He's all he has left.

But the social workers don't seem to care. They pull Killian away – and damn Liam, why isn't he holding onto him? Why is he letting go?! – and put the two brothers in two separate cars.

It's three long but empty weeks before the phone rings and for the first time, it's Killian they ask for.

Mr. Silver doesn't look happy when Killian reaches the phone – not that he ever looks happy when Killian is concerned. He gives him the receiver with a frown.

"Don't take too long," he whispers at him and Killian fights back a shiver.

"Hello?"

"Killian!"

"Oh, Liam! Where are you? Are you coming? I miss you."

"I know, brother. I'm sorry. They took me to Bristol."

"Bristol?! How?! That's too far away!"

"I know. Maybe I can convince someone to drive me to London."

"I miss you. Please come."

"I miss you too. I'll try."

"Come where, Jones?" Mr. Silver's strict voice is heard from the other room.

"Bollocks," Killian whispers.

"Killian!"

"Oh, shut up. You have no idea how much that guy curses."

Mr. Silver appears in the hall right in front of Killian. "I asked you a question, Jones."

"It's- it's my brother, sir."

"You're not answering my question."

Killian swallows hard. "He- he said he may visit one day."

Mr. Silver snorts. "Not in here. Make it quick, now. I'm waiting for a call."

He doesn't leave, instead he stands there, arms crossed, and this time Killian can't stop the shiver down his spine.

"Killian," Liam's calm voice comes from the phone.

"Yes?"

"Is that man treating you right?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Does he hit you?"

Killian grabs the phone tightly. He's never heard his brother's voice like this. "No." Not yet, he thinks. He's seen how he pulls at the bigger boys' ears when they aren't behaving.

He chances a glance at Mr. Silver, regretting it immediately. His eyebrows are raised suspiciously and he makes a gesture with his hand towards the receiver.

"I gotta go. Try to- please." He doesn't dare say much with that man so close to him.

"I will. I promise, brother. I love you."

"Me too. Goodnight."

He doesn't get a goodnight back. Mr. Silver grabs the receiver and hangs up.

"Move," he says, picking it back up and dialing.

It takes two more months for Liam to actually visit, but Silver doesn't let them go further than the playground a couple blocks away, with him sitting on the bench across from the swings where the brothers sit.

Killian is still young, but his mind is hardening enough to start knowing better. Silver is not suitable for a foster parent, but maybe it's not a coincidence that the other two boys in the house have already sullied criminal records.

"You're not gonna be like them," Liam says.

"Can't I come to Bristol too? Isn't there room in your house?"

"I've talked to the social worker, but I don't know how this works. She says it's not that easy."

"You're lucky," Killian says, looking down at his feet. "My social worker won't answer my calls." When I do get time for a phone call, he thinks.

"Hey, I'm still here. We may be far, but we're both still here. We'll get through this. My foster father said that when I turn sixteen he may let me help around his brother's gas station. I'll make some money, I'll find a job, and when I turn eighteen, I'll do my damnedest to get custody of you."

Killian feels tears well up in his eyes, but he quickly blinks them away. He can't let Silver see him like this.

Empty weeks turn into empty months, and those turn into empty years. Killian changes foster homes, never getting closer to Liam's, but eventually he gets in some kind of trouble – biting back at school bullies, staying out late, getting caught with alcohol – and he always finds himself back to Silver's house.

It's there that he feels the most empty, the most lost. It's only Liam's occasional phone calls, less occasional visits, and the hope that he'll get a job and get them a home for themselves that keeps Killian afloat.

There are times he wonders how things could turn out like this. He used to be happy. Things used to go well for him, he had a bright future... he had a family, a home. Now he's resorted to just waiting until he's old enough to take some control over his life, no matter how little.

And the more time goes by, the more he feels his patience running out.

Nothing is permanent in his life, nothing is stable. Homes come and go. Liam comes and goes. Having only a miserable plastic bag to keep his stuff in, most of the drawings he makes to pass the time end up in the trash. His mother was the one who encouraged him to draw and hang his pieces all over his bedroom walls. Keeping them now only serves as a reminder of what he's lost.

The only thing he actually treasures is the photo of himself, Liam, and their mother, which he managed to grab just in time while the social workers were urging him to pick up only the essentials from his childhood home. As it almost was victim of being ripped to pieces by whatever bully targeted him, he now keeps it in the most uninteresting place he could have thought of; his math notebook.

After turning eighteen, Liam finally moves in London, but he's working two jobs and only has time once a week, for a few hours, to visit Killian.

Killian doesn't celebrate his fifteenth birthday. Not that Silver would care if Killian had asked for a celebration. And when, just two days later, the police call him to come recognize his brother's body after he was killed in a work accident, Killian finds the lack of celebration so fitting that he actually bursts into laughter. He laughs and laughs until his chest starts hurting and he's on his knees, shaking but unable to call for any help.

Silver is still talking to the police on the phone, shouting at him to stop being a brat. It's Ed, the only boy older than Killian in the house, that kneels down to him and slaps him, getting him out of his hysterics.

Killian struggles to hold on, but his resolve breaks into pieces when the doctor raises the sheet covering Liam's body. He doesn't have any care left about Silver seeing him crying and sobbing like this.

One last broken hope he had, that Silver might give a damn after seeing him so devastated, is gone too after that.

It's just that one time; for the next two years that he stays under that horrible man's roof, he cultivates a cool, careless exterior, while his pillow soaks his silent tears almost every night.

At least, Silver doesn't care much for Killian causing trouble, like trespassing, breaking curfew, or even drinking. He just gives him the ceremonious slap and goes on with his day.

So Killian doesn't think too much before deciding to sneak out and into the Halloween party on the other side of the city that Ella – or Cruella, as the kids in the house call her – the first girl in the house in years, suggests they go to. With his meager savings he puts together a pirate costume, puts a thick line of black around his eyes with the eye pencil he borrowed from Cruella, and together they hot-wire the first car they find and drive to the extravagant villa where the party is at.

At first glance, Cruella scoffs and searches around the house for booze.

"I can't believe there's adults here. What was the point?!"

It's a good thing Killian got an eyepatch. The pencil irritates his eye and he has to wash it off in the bathroom, then cover his reddened, smudged eye with the patch. His other eye isn't done and the eyepatch looks weird on the side it's on, but the lights are so low that probably no-one will notice. He doesn't expect anyone to look at him long enough to notice, anyway.

Like any other party, he feels like an outsider, but he doesn't care. He dances by himself while occasionally looking around to check if Cruella found the alcohol. Instead he spots a girl, probably his age and dressed as a zombie princess, who is looking at him. Like, looking looking.

He doesn't connect the feeling in his stomach with the one he'd felt at that game of spin the bottle so many years ago. He's so older, his mind burdened with such darker thoughts, that right now it's confusing to feel an unknown emotion that isn't scraping away at his soul.

And the girl is walking to him, just as a ballad comes on.

"Wanna dance?" she says.

He just offers his hand. His mouth feels so dry he fears his voice won't come out if he tries to say anything.

He heard the term 'butterflies in one's stomach' before, but he had no clue it would feel like this, so overwhelmingly confusing but making him happy at the same time. The girl is smiling at him as they slow dance, and he reckons, so is he. From the corner of his eye he spots Cruella, holding a cup that most definitely doesn't have a plain fizzy drink or juice in it, but he can't tear his gaze away from the girl. There's something familiar about her bright eyes, whose colour he can't decipher in the red and purple lights.

Her expression is soft; her smile falls, but not out of any sadness. The song draws to an end, and suddenly her lips are on his.

[the-edge-of-great]

I'm jittery on coffee, lack of food, and I had a stressful day, so here’s some angst. 1700 words of pure angst. enjoy :)))

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

As a teenager, it was an alliance between friends. Brothers.

Protect Luke, they thought. Keep his location a secret. His parents are being unreasonable. This is what he’s born to do.

But in secret, they knew. They shared looks over his shoulders, silent concern that they never spoke on. Never discussed because they took an oath. They took Luke’s side, always.

Bobby thought he’d get over it. He thought they’d make up eventually; they just needed a few weeks to cool off.

But then weeks turned into months. 

Luke stopped going to school.

And the Missing Person posters began showing up.

And then a year had passed. Luke stopped talking about them. The guys didn’t bring it up.

Bobby’s own parents never caught on to the extra person living in the garage. Luke slept on the couch, but when Bobby’s parents came over, he hid in the loft. Bobby snuck food out to him. They spent long nights in the studio on the floor, backs against the couch as they listened to Bobby’s CD collection. So many almost-normal nights with his heart heavy with guilt eventually turned into a new normal. He shoved the guilt away and locked it up until it simmered into numbness he could ignore.

After they died, Bobby learned to block everything out. He liked to think he forgot; that’s what he told his therapist. His wife. His daughter. Maybe if he said it enough, it would actually happen.

The Pattersons invite him in with a smile. They’re warm, kind, exactly how he remembers. He wishes he could remember how to smile back at them.

Their house looks the same as it did when he was sixteen, celebrating Luke’s birthday in their living room. They didn’t stay long that day; Luke’s relationship with his parents was just beginning to crumble. He and the guys left quickly after cake because they had to practice. His parents weren’t happy. Luke didn’t care.

“How have you been, Bobby?” Mitch asks. He takes a seat next to Emily. She reaches for his hand; they smile at each other. Trevor’s heart hurts. “Sorry, you go by Trevor these days don’t you?”

Trevor nods stiffly. “I do. Yeah, um, I’ve been good. Things are good.”

“Working hard on your next album, I assume?” Emily says with a smile. “We have all of your CDs, you know.”

He swallows thickly. “That’s… actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I have something for you.”

The envelope is numb in his fingers as he hands it over. Emily’s warm smile never falters, though her eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as she grabs it. While she tears it open, Mitch asks, “What’s this?”

“Compensation.” Twenty-five years too late.

“Oh my,” she gasps, sliding the check out of the envelope. “Bobby—Trevor—”

“I couldn’t track down Alex and Reggie’s parents,” he explains quickly, wiping his palms against his pants. “So, you’re getting all of it.”

Emily shakes her head. “I don’t understand. Why would you—”

And—how do you tell a secret you’ve kept for twenty-five years? How do you rip a bandage off that you yourself cemented into place years ago?

He was only sixteen when Luke ran away from home. Couldn’t tell anyone: not his parents or Reggie’s or Alex’s. It weighed on him like lead. He resented Luke for a long time. How selfish could he be to ask his friends to lie to their parents? To the police when they questioned Luke’s disappearance? They were teenagers. Kids.

He was only seventeen when his best friends died. For a long time, he replayed that night in his head. He should’ve warned them about those street hotdogs. Should’ve tried harder to make them consider a diet change—he didn’t trust that street vendor; never did. But they loved that place, so maybe that’s where his first lie came from. His band was so supportive of everything, even his sudden decision to swear off meat. Maybe he should’ve gone with them, could’ve been the one to steer them away when the dogs tasted funny or called an ambulance to get them help faster. Maybe he could’ve saved them.

“I stole Luke’s music.”

He doesn’t hear himself speak. Did he finally say it?

Emily’s face crumbles. Mitch’s twists into anger.

Yeah, he said it.

“You what?” Mitch says. His voice is controlled; he’s never been the emotional one.

Trevor continues with a dry mouth because he has to; there’s no going back now: “My parents found his notebook in my garage after he died. I was afraid of what they’d do if they found out I’d been hiding Luke there, so I said it was mine. Then they read through the songs, and they thought I needed to share them. My dad knew a guy, they got me in a studio, and then—”

And then.

“—before I knew it… They were my songs. At least, that’s what LA thought. Then the entire US. Then Canada, England… It all happened so fast,” he added quickly, trying to explain better because they were getting angry.

“You never credited him,” Mitch accuses. “Any of them. They were your friends—!”

Emily’s seconds away from breaking. She’s quiet when she speaks, soft as ever: “Luke was with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. His own eyes are filled with tears. “I’m sorry. He told me—told us to keep quiet. We promised, made an oath—”

“We told the police,” she continues, as if she can’t even hear him. Maybe she can’t. Maybe she’s as numb as he is now. “We bothered them for months after Luke’s disappearance, called every other week for updates. We covered the city in posters with his face on it. I just wanted to know that he was okay. That he wasn’t on the street somewhere—” Tears spill over her cheeks. She doesn’t wipe them away; her gaze is fixed on the check. “I drove down dozens of streets, checked every corner I knew of that had street performers usually, hoping I’d see him. Hoping I could… convince him to come home…

“And he was just—” Her smile is watery, broken. She finally looks at him. He wants to puke. “He was safe.”

Trevor’s shoulders tremble with the dam that finally breaks. “I’m so sorry,” he sobs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know any better. I was—we were kids. He was a kid. He missed you every day. Never stopped thinking about you, even if he never said anything. I wanted to say something. I know Alex and Reggie did too. I think we just… we just…” He sniffs, wipes his eyes, rubs his hands over his face. “We thought you guys would make up. We thought everything would work out in the end. And it would’ve! I know it would’ve, if he hadn’t…”

For a long moment, they don’t talk. Nobody does; they can’t find enough strength between the sobs wrecking their bodies, making their throats raw. Emily cries into the safety of Mitch’s arms. Trevor’s fingers wrap around his own arms. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, focuses on the window, on the bright sun pouring in. The curtain moves, he swears, but he doesn’t think anything of it. Even though he can’t feel the air, he tells himself that’s what it is.

“We were supposed to play the Orpheum,” he whispers, and his voice crumbles and gives on the last syllable. His head falls to his hands. The Orpheum. He was supposed to play the Orpheum with his best friends. They were about to make it.

Emily sniffs. She gently tears away from her husband, wipes her eyes, and stands. “Thank you for the offer, but we don’t want your money.” She leans over the coffee table to offer the check. “We don’t need it.”

It slips between one trembling hand to another. He stares at it: Five hundred thousand dollars. Should be more. Even if they don’t want it, it should be more. Five million. Ten. They deserve so much more.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, even though that carries no weight. No amount of apologies will bring Luke back. Or Reggie. Or Alex. He can’t fix anything. Actually, he’s probably done the most damage. Twenty-five years of lies.

The sun is too bright outside. He stumbles through the yard, check clenched so tightly in his hand that the edges are cutting into his skin. The lights on his car flash like he’s just unlocked it. Or, maybe he locked it again. Doesn’t know; can’t hear. Can’t focus on anything except his band. His best friends. His brothers. They left him, but what did he do?

He stole their lives. Their dream.

Trevor stumbles into the door. His crying is louder inside, clogs his eardrums and rattles through his body painfully. Everything is so painful. He clutches at his heart.

The air conditioning is on full blast—the coldest it can go—when he turns it on. His windows fog up; he doesn’t notice.

Not until—something squeaks in his ear. He jolts in surprise, head whipping around in a blur.

There are letters, but they’re backward. There are also voices—he swears he can hear voices. Arguing, critiquing that sounds too much like—and then a word. A backward word. And when his breath catches in his throat and his body freezes over all over again, he knows he’s not as numb as he thought because he can see it. And he knows—he knows. It’s them. They’re there. Were there. Still are? Whatever it is, he bursts into tears again. Happy tears. Sad tears. So many emotional tears that his head is spinning.

But his chest—his chest is loosening. There’s a weight disappearing. He feels like he can breathe for the first time in twenty-five years.

Bobby

As the letters begin to bleed, a new spot of fog forms on the window. He watches in amazement as someone spells three more words. It’s Alex, he thinks. Has to be. After all these years, he still recognizes that handwriting—Alex has always had the best handwriting out of their group.

Once the last word is finished, they’re gone. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just does. And in their place, they leave reassurance. They leave peace:

We forgive you

[nikkywrites]

Firetruck Linen

Summary: This should not be hard. It was a simple purchase. Right?

This was for a pride week color thing thing originally, but I’ll just repost these as their own things. The writings, anyways. I don’t know if the aesthetic/moodboard things are gonna make it over.

Jackson is introduced! I still stand by the fact that not all my hero world characters are dumb teens. There are adults too who are decidedly less dumb. One day you will meet them.

A couple typos were fixed. that’s it. No warnings.  An anxious boy just tries to buy some linen at a craft store, totally not being awkward while doing so.

*****

Jackson hates the color red.

Which is kind of idiotic (and ironic) considering it wears it on a regular basis. Considering it’s a part of him as much as his blood is, something he willingly dons because of what he’s allowed to do when he’s wearing it, the freedom it grants him.

Red is a color he dislikes because it’s his freedom and his prison. Jail bars he can only ever peer out of to see the outside world. Something so simple that determines so much of him.

He figured out he had a power when he was eight. He’s spent every year since, minus that first one, hating it and most of it he also spent trying to repress it, smothering it in his chest like it’ll sputter out in the confines of his ribs to dissipate like ash in the wind.

All it does, however, is gnaw at his intestines like a parasite, burning away the lining to send smoke up his throat.

Heroing isn’t something he really has a choice in. He has to, if he doesn’t want to get hyperthermia or heat stroke or both. (He did, once, when he was nine in was the middle of winter when it made no sense. He was nine when his choice of his future was taken from him). He hates it, but at least he knows what he’s going to do when he graduates, so there’s that. 

That doesn’t make buying fabric in front of the eighty-year-old grandmother manning the register any easier, though. Especially since he’s, you know, a teenage boy in a craft store trying to buy half a yard of linen. But hey, sometimes you have to do hard things. Or awkward things. This was definitely the latter.

Sometimes he thinks he’d almost prefer the hyperthermia.

“This is crafting fabric,” she tells him, voice croaked and thin with age.

“I know,” he sighs, fists his hands behind the counter where she can’t see. “My, um, mom asked me to pick some up for her.”

Lie.

His mother was too busy for a time-consuming hobby and was absolutely horrible at crafts and sewing. But it doesn’t hurt anyone to fib about it. It’s just a little lie, not a crime (like unsponsored underaged vigilanteing). It was fine. Normal, even. Moms sent their sons on shopping errands all the time. 

She picks up the strip of firetruck red fabric with her nails. “So she sends you to grab half a yard of red linen? That’s all she needs?”

“That’s... what she told me to grab, yeah. I think she was running low?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No? No. That’s... that’s all. Please.”

“Alright.” She presses a few keys, pulling the fabric closer to peer at the tag. “Half a yard of red linen.”

He nods, feeling like a bobble head. “Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ and winces. “Half a yard of bright red linen for, uh,” his mind blanks on anything that can be made with linen, “...something. She didn’t say what.”

...and he wasn’t asked a question. Cool. Yeah. He was totally acting normal, just running an errand for his mother. Buying fabric for a perfectly normal home project and not to use as a half-baked mask that was going to be ruined in about a month, if he was lucky.

He knew he was somehow making this much worse than it needed to be, but he doesn’t know how.

He does know, however, that if he acts too off she might know what he’s really doing. Buying fabric to DIY a superhero costume. For vigilanteism. A punishable offense on two parts — unsanctioned Supers weren’t allowed to roam the streets and he was a minor.

Minors aren’t allowed. Period. It was too risky, too stressful, too much for any child to bear. He really wishes he had the option to wait until he was eighteen.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Yes.” He responds too quickly, a little loud for the quiet bumble of the shop, snapping back into the situation at hand and not his runaway train of thought. “I’m fine. Why— why would you ask?” He narrows in on her eyes, wondering how people can see a soul past them. He just sees brown.

“You seem a little jumpy.”

He shakes his head. “No— I’m not... jumpy.” He laughs and it’s forced so he stops. Did that sound suspicious? It probably did.

She hums unconnectedly. “Alright. This’ll be $8.49.”He grabs at his back pocket and hands her a ten. “Keep the change,” he says, pretending his anxiety is the only thing making him think she knows. He smiles and it feels like the exact wrong move.

This would’ve been so much easier if he was a girl. He wouldn’t be questioned so much than and this could be a smooth experience.

“Here you go,” she says, holding out his now-bagged purchase, the curl of her lips smug.

He grabs it and ignores how his fingers fumble for the handle. “Thank you.” His heart pounds a rhythm in his chest, stirring up an urge to puke. He feels sick — does she know? Is she going to call this in? Is he done for? Has he finally been caught because he thought he had one more spare mask when he hadn’t?

That’s why he was here, though, because linen was supposed to be harder to burn than cotton. He needed something less flammable.

“Have a good day, hun. Be safe.

”His breath stills and he idly wonders where all the air went. “Yeah.”

Definitely. He was totally... going to do that.

Not.

Dang it, she really knew what he was actually doing, didn’t she?

He walks out the door and slaps his palm against his forehead as hard as he can. “Dang,” he whispers. “Should’ve just ordered it online and waited. Stupid. I was a wreck. That was horrible.” The heels of his hands press against his browbone, the plastic bag crinkling against his skin.

He sighs, feeling like the water running down the street and into the drain. He shoulda just — not done that. That was bad. That was really bad.

God, how was he so awkward? How did people hold normal conversations? He feels like his chest is about to implode.

He jimmies his phone from his pocket and types a note one-handed to his list of things to remember. He writes the name of the shop and in caps (for emphasis so later him will remember) writes not to ever go there again. Ever.

The little old lady behind the counter knew who he was. Maybe.

That, or he was just really paranoid. Or bad at reading social situations.

Something along one of those lines, probably.

[peachebunnys]

Pain, with love VIII

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x reader

Summary: Arranged marriages are tough, but add that with having a drug lord on the loose? Horacio Carrillo can only imagine what’s coming for him. 

Warnings: (slight) mentions of blood, hints of dying, grammatical issues

a/n: i really hope this chapter makes sense because i’m editing this at almost 12am and i have school tmr :) also i realised i changed the ending from the one i wrote in the preview so i’m very very sorry. 

4.5k words

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Chapter 8; 

The night was cool, carrying the faint scent of gasoline from nearby vehicles in the air. The rain was heavy, dancing with the wind as it poured onto the streets of Bogota. The streets were full of life, and just once did Horacio wish it wasn’t. 

It almost seemed like the colours of the festival had lit up the gloomy skies, shining a flurry of bright lights that did not dim despite the weather. The display was truly a sight to behold, with large decorations framed with beautiful flowers that hung along the road. The music echoed from across the street, musking the sound of the heavy downpour that resonated throughout Bogota. Everyone was humming to the same tune, skipping with each step they took despite the air of anguish that hung above them - or so Horacio felt. 

The night was beautiful, until it wasn’t. 

The droning of the engines was the only thing that kept him company, driving between lanes in hopes to find a way out faster. The rain had become heavier, in turn, creating disruptions in the transmissions to his men. With each time he tried to give orders, the static would sound, drowning out his words that at this point - was incoherent. What could you say, when your lover was in the hands of the man you hated most? What could you say when you were close to losing yourself? 

Horacio had no clue, and at this moment, the only thing that kept him from breaking was the possibility of saving you - despite how difficult he knew it would be. A glimpse of hope, he thinks, a small light that shines in the sea of unforgiving hopelessness. He was only one man, against who knows how many - even then, did it not dampen the spirit that ignited within him.

He promised, hadn’t he? 

A promise he would keep, even if it meant he had to die trying. Whatever it took to keep you safe, that much (and more), was he willing to do. What would it mean, if he had to live without you? What would it mean, if the one that showered him in love wasn’t there to keep his broken soul together? 

The night went on forever, so it seems, and the fear was becoming of him with each passing second. He tries to steady himself, to not be controlled by the paralysing realisation that he had brought this upon you. You, a being so sweet - like a goddess made for only him to worship, didn’t deserve the dangers that came with marrying a colonel. No one should have to face the horrors the Search Bloc had to witness, lest of all, you. 

Horacio’s mind was quick to jump, insecurities creeping up on him as he remained cooped up in a vehicle too small, with a threat too big to handle, while stuck in a traffic jam that seemed endless. This, he thinks, was what I feared about - That one day he would wake up with your blood on his hands, a nagging reminder that he could never save you. A nightmare that he was sure would haunt him forever. 

I truly never deserved you, he believes, because I could never fully promise to give you picket fences or sunny afternoons that I know you deserve. 

Red. Always red. 

Blood. Always stained. 

Fear. Always ingrained. 

Will he ever be the same? 

The pitter-patter noises against the windscreen had become harsher, with heavy raindrops splattering on the vehicle. It breaks him from his thoughts, and once again he is reminded of the cards he’s given to deal with. The music from the festival now sings in slow motion, and Horacio could hear his breathing labour as the red traffic light paints and bleeds all over his face. 

How much more of a nightmare could this turn out to be? 

Well Horacio, this could only be the beginning. 

The skies were bright, and while the rain would’ve been a soothing melody to anyone else - all it did was churn more anxiety and frustration in him. He was restless, and as the emotions continued brewing within him, he felt the strong urge to puke. He felt suffocated - the claustrophobia unknowingly creeping up on him. Too small. Too tight. Not much air. 

Dizzy.

Horacio maps the road in his head, the one he’s been on for years. He knows it, like the back of his hand - but for some reason the memory doesn’t come to him. Was it the stress? The panic? The worry? He couldn’t tell, and he racked his brain trying to remember something, just something that he could use to get out of this traffic. 

“The road,” he muttered, “the road leads there doesn’t it?”

He tries, and tries, and tries. Which way would lead to you again? He can’t think, not when his mind would drift back to you. 

Always you. 

He struggled to be strong, and it confused him - where was that tough guy front he had all these years? Where has that mask gone to - when he needed it the most? Had you torn down all those walls completely? Had he let you in so easily? 

He stares at the sight before him, as a cold and broken man - unsure of the fate that awaits you. He breathes in a shaky breath, palms sweating against the cool leather of the wheel. The night was chilly, and Horacio had found himself wishing it wasn’t you - that it was him instead.

He had broken his promise, the very one that your father entrusted him with. And as the rain twinkled with the festival’s lights, Horacio only prayed that your blood wouldn’t be running cold when he finally got to you. 

There was melody, strung out and eerie - like a soft soothing piano instrumental, with every other note missing. 

Fear. 

He makes the haste decision to take the next turn after the traffic light, knowing it would lead to an ‘unused’ road that might help to speed up the process of getting to you. He was one man, which made everything he did more time sensitive. He was only one man - one against the many to come, and everything he will do, he does it for you. 

The static of the radio rings in his ears, and Horacio could hear each time he swallows his saliva. Why was everything becoming so loud all of a sudden? Had the festival’s lights gotten brighter too? He couldn’t tell, and the sounds only seemed to get louder with each passing moment. 

Think quick.

Think fast.

Horacio makes a swift turn, driving on the road that was deemed ‘unused’, only to realise that there were a handful of cars before him which made his heart plummet to his belly. 

Fuck, he cries, and his fingernails dig roughly into his large palms. He scrapes the nails over the wounds that form, and his mind is back again on you. It draws blood, staining his hands that now tremble more than before.

It was surely an improvement from the main roads, which he knew would take hours before the jam would clear up. This road, however, was narrow, and despite the significant drop in density of vehicles, anything could happen - and Horacio wasn’t going to bet on the likelihood he would be out of here fast. 

Time seemed to fly by slower, the seconds feeling like minutes as the car’s interior began to heat up quickly. While everything Horacio was doing - every decision, every step he made in the matter of seconds, felt like hours to him. Was this the torture he had put the drug lord to? The torturously slow wait that was slowly eating him from inside? His fingers shaked as he gripped the steering wheel harder, palms becoming sweaty as he thought about the hostage situation.

The traffic flow here was much better, with occasional stops that made Horacio’s heart hammer in his chest. He could feel the conflicting emotions fill his body, and the liquid fire that now pumped through his veins. The fear that was once controlling his entire being had now transformed into anger, and he made a silent promise to put an end to Gacha when all of this was over. And everything he will do, he does it for you. 

Please, he begs, please let me just get to her. 

Now - have you ever seen a man that was as authoritative as him, beg? 

He was directly next to the festival’s stores, each one of them lining the long street with their beautiful goods displayed. The scent of cooked food was carried in the air, as well as the sounds of chatter from nearby customers. The sidewalk was practically swarmed, with people of all ages carefully inspecting the various items that each shop sold. 

Horacio tried again, rolling his thumb over the radio in hopes to finally get his message out to his men. The static had come out shaky, but as a softer buzz than the last time. He calls out, desperate and in pleads, that hopefully someone would be able to reach to you before he did. 

The transmission comes back to him, with one of his men answering in broken responses. 

“Hello? -- Can you hear me?”

Horacio slams the radio down, his anger getting the better of him. In all his years in Search Bloc, he thought he had seen it all - from hostage situations, to drug lab busts to petty crime. But never has he been put in a situation where he felt so helpless and weak, a hair’s breadth away from crumbling with the pressure that settled on his shoulders.  He had thought about it, to open his car door and race home to you, but that wouldn’t work - not when his house was still several miles away. It wouldn’t do anyone good if he were to run home in the rain, soiling all his gears and equipment with the cold droplets that fell from above. 

It wasn’t you they were after, he reminds himself, it was him. 

They wouldn’t dare to touch you, right? 

Horacio decided not to think of anything else but the former, and the blood within him boiled a little warmer than before. 

A commotion had broken him from his dwelling, and as traffic moved, Horacio had driven right next to the source of it all. A man, in shabby and torn robes was picking a fight with a pedestrian, clearly drunk off his wits’ end. The window at the seat next to Horacio was down, and he could smell the stench of the alcohol that the drunkyard had reeked of. The man stumbled, steps uneven as he made a beeline towards the smaller man. His footing was off, which resulted in him falling back against several people behind him - ones who were too busy in buying food from the store nearby to care about the fight that had just broken out. 

The traffic was finally picking up its pace again, and Horacio drove past the forming crowd, eyeing the way the dunkard was yelling profanities. In any other scenario, Horacio would’ve stepped out of his car to stop the fight, but in a dire situation like this - he couldn’t find the need to care. 

Horacio took one last glance at the crowd before looking back on the road, focusing on the problem he had at hand. But there was just something, a dress of white and yellow, that had caught his attention amidst the pool of people. His head snapped back quickly, studying the person that had worn the article of clothing. 

The visibility was poor, but as Horacio strained his eyes beyond the water droplets that painted his windows, he noticed the dress to be similar to the one he had got you just a few weeks prior. 

Horacio’s radio was burning up again, with transmissions becoming clearer as the rain lessened significantly. The voices of his men were less shaky and their replies were now more prominent than before. Horacio winds down the window more, straining his neck out to get a better look at the woman. 

“Sir, is there something wrong?”

The radio had called out to him, with Trujillo’s notable voice now laced with worry. Horacio drove his car half a metre forward, hearing the cars behind him fill the air with their persistent honking. There were just too many sounds, but it didn’t bother Horacio as he continued studying the unknown figure. There were just so many features that resembled you, and Horacio caught himself double taking in confusion. 

Perhaps it was just someone who looked like you from behind, seeing that your hair length and colour was a pretty common style amongst young women in Bogota. Horacio tried his best to tear his eyes away from the figure, but there was just something that nagged at him to look back.

His radio once again calls out to him, and Trujillo’s voice had a tinge of panic as he asked if there were any issues that Horacio needed help with. The car honks had continued blaring, and Horacio decided it would be best to pick up the pace, ignoring the doppelgänger to continue his drive home. 

Time was ticking, and Horacio couldn’t spend it on studying people that vaguely looked like you - especially when you were in grave danger. 

Horacio started his car again, listening to the familiar whirring as he stepped on the accelerator. There was a brief moment where everything was silent, and soon after he heard a shrill -  a loud unpleasant sound that made him snap his head back. The drunkard had vomited all over the pavement and onto a woman’s shoes, which explained the scream of disgust and anger that broke the peace. There were onlookers that were peeking at the damage done, sniggering as they found the scene humourous. One person, in particular, who was amidst the crowd was undoubtedly you. 

You had turned your head and peered over the woman’s shoulder, staring with disgust at the scene that had just played out before you. Horacio’s heart pounded in his chest, and he stared at you in disbelief. 

What?

Horacio’s eyebrows knitted together, feeling the air from his lungs get knocked out of him. He could feel his heart rate slow down, listening to the beats echo in his ears as time went in slow motion again. 

How was it possible that you were here?

You brushed your hair out of your face, tucking the loose strands behind your ears as you ventured further into the festival’s displays. His eyes widened, feeling the confusion muddle his thoughts. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening, and what he had just seen. 

What the fuck?

That woman was unmistakably you, and that made Horacio’s mind blank. The drivers from the cars behind had left their vehicles, standing before Horacio’s driver window in an attempt to get his attention. But Horacio had made little to no movement, like a beautiful marble statue, as his eyes glued to where you were just standing a few moments ago. There were loud poundings on his windows that followed with muffled complaints, all of which were trying to snap Horacio out of his thoughts - but everything around him seemed to still as his eyes followed you. 

How could this be possible? 

If you were here, despite the planned hostage situation that was taking place at his home, what the hell could this mean?

His back stiffens, the thoughts slowly forming in his brain as he carefully pieced the puzzle together. The muffled yelling only seemed to get louder, all of which calling out for his immediate attention. 

Pound. Pound. Pound. 

The windows of his passenger seat at the back trembled with the blunt force, and Horacio slowly turned off the engines of his vehicle. His car was now parked at the side of the narrow road, leaving a tight space next to him for other drivers to drive through. There were more eyes on him now, with each person now curious as to what he was up to. He spots your head get lost behind the crowd, and he immediately unbuckles his seatbelt to bolt out.  

Was this … a set-up?

This whole situation didn’t make sense to him, and seeing you had almost given him a whiplash. 

Horacio grabbed his radio and jumped out of the car, running towards the entrance of the festival, in direction of where you went. There were shouts calling for him from behind, each one from the drivers that he had no doubt just pissed off. Horacio pushes through the crowd, tip-toeing every few steps in hopes he could catch a glimpse of where you would be. 

There were loud noises everywhere, along with sudden flashes of lights that caught Horacio off-guard. Sweat was forming along his hairline, feeling the heat in this small space get to him faster than anticipated. The fans that hung above each stall blew on the customers that walked by, but with the humidity that came after the rain, Horacio felt like it was setting his skin on fire.  

His eyes scan through the sea of people, each one in different coloured clothes which stood out like a parade of colours - making it harder for him to find you. Horacio quickly held his radio to his mouth, calling out for Trujillo as he continued recklessly bumping into people just to get to you. 

“Trujillo!” Horacio shouted into the device, his voice competing with the speakers that he stood next to.  

“Trujillo come in!”

With barely a moment to spare, Horacio heard the voice of his most trusted man answer back. 

“Yes Sir?”

“Trujillo, gather all the units to set up a perimeter around my house on 25th street! I have a suspicion that Gacha is planning an ambush there, call all units to de-escalate the issue immediately!” 

There was a faint response from Trujillo’s end, indicating that he understood Horacio’s request. Horacio shoved the device into the back pocket of his uniform pants, before continuing to push through the area. The place was getting more packed, with the post dinner crowd finally arriving at the venue. The air was stifling, with the heat and sweat of everyone around him causing him to grow more nervous. Horacio’s eyes dance around the general area, hoping to spot something that he could identify you with.

The sudden flashing lights that were meant to attract customers now messed with his sight, and Horacio found himself wincing every few seconds. His heartbeat was rising, and the collars of his uniform were now once again drenching in sweat. There were so many questions in his mind, but he opted to find you first - placing your safety before everything else. 

He managed to spot you soon after, noticing that you were at the other end of the festival grounds, on the way to the road just across it. Horacio stretched out his arms, forming a small barrier around him as he apologetically pushed past the people. The area of the festival wasn’t large, and Horacio found himself and the other end within minutes. 

He slowly moves past the people in front of him, steps slowing down as he notices you sitting at a small bus stop just across the festival. The mellow orange light casted down on you, and you looked around the empty streets that only had various cars and trucks parked along it. You fiddled with your fingers, playing around with them as you patiently waited for the bus, occasionally glancing up to check if there were any oncoming vehicles. 

Horacio’s eyes were trained on you, and as he finally stepped out of the crowd, he could feel the light drizzle coating his body. The air was cool, carrying the scent of wet grass as Horacio finally felt himself breathe - no longer stuck in the small space that he had to claw his way out of. He staggers towards the edge of the road, staring at you as you continue playing with your items, occasionally huffing with restlessness.  

Horacio could feel the tears that were about to well in his eyes, body sagging with exhaustion as he took in the sight of you safe and sound. He sucked in a breath before calling out to you, rubbing his palms against his canvas pants to rid the slight trembling that had continued since he got out the car. 

“Y/N?” he croaked, arm stretching out towards you, “Y/N!”

Your head snapped up, eyebrows furrowed before you recognized your husband standing from across the street. The lights from the night festival had given you better visibility, and you could see the relief and happiness that was etched on his face. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, making your cheeks turn red. 

“Horacio? What are you doing here?” 

You stood up from the cold plastic seat, taking a few steps to meet him halfway. The granite under your shoe grinded against the soles, crunching with each step you took. The festival music had drowned behind you, and as you stepped closer to Horacio, you could feel your heart beating faster. The street lamps illuminated his face, and you caught sight of the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. 

You reach your hands out, moving to cup his face as he stands closer to you, watching as the lights framed your figure perfectly - making you seem so ethereal and angelic. He feels his voice waiver, and he swallows the lump that forms in his throat, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

You smile at him, missing the pain that laced his earlier statement, “I did mention I wanted to come here, didn’t I?”

Your hands trail down his neck and to his arms, holding his huge biceps as you continue smiling in his embrace. He looks at you in a certain way that has your heart doing flips, noticing the way his eyes would land on your nose and lips. “Horacio, is something wr-”

His lips are on yours, strong and passionate as he kisses you deeper. Horacio coils his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The world around you disappeared, and it felt like time stood still as he moulded his lips with yours. There was something so sweet about it, the tenderness yet passion in the way he moved his lips against yours. He tasted like mint, and you found yourself wanting more. 

The salvation, he remembers, to save him from himself. 

He melts into your touch, and he tries his best not to cave him. Just like that, the weight on his shoulders are removed, and he feels the tears roll down freely. 

You’re his saving grace, and as your fingers gently brush off the tears that fall, he knows now - he would do anything for you. 

He pulls away first, panting against your mouth as a string of saliva connects both of your lips. Horacio rests his head on yours, staring right into your eyes with a look of adoration and love, and you felt your cheeks burn harder. 

His hand trails your back, moving up your neck to gently cup your left cheek in his large palm. The heat made you lean in further, purring with delight as he broke the silence between the two of you. 

“I love you,” he muttered, softly at first and only to you. 

You felt your heart burst, filling your entire being with an incomprehensible emotion. He drags his thumb over your mouth, feeling the plushness of the bottom lip under his finger pad.  You barely gasp out a ‘what’, not quite believing his confession to you. Your mind swarmed with thoughts, making your heart pound faster against your ribs. 

“I love you,” he says it again, this time louder - unafraid to admit it to the world. 

You jump into his arms, trailing your hands around his neck and he carries you up. Your head rests against his shoulder, and your wavering voice could barely bring out the words ‘I love you too’. He holds your head against his body, leaning in to kiss the crown of your head with a shaky breath, “I am so sorry, my love.”

You smile against the soft skin of his neck, running your fingers through his short hair, “I know, ” you whisper, and you lean forward to feel his lips against you, “I know you are.”

Horacio’s radio sounds from his back pocket, with Trujillo’s distinct voice indicating that Gacha’s men have been all arrested at the ambush site. That piece of information alone allowed Horacio to relax, dropping his head down to bury it on your neck. Horacio hugged you tighter, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. 

There wasn’t anything to worry about now - for the problems have now all been solved. 

Or so he thought. 

Trujillo’s voice was heard over the device again, this time taking a serious tone in his voice, “Sir, Gacha has not been seen anywhere, it seems like he didn’t even show up here at all.”

The blood in Horacio’s body had immediately run cold, his head looking up as he processed the information. He hugged your body tighter against him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. You nuzzle your face further into the space where his neck and shoulder meet, gently planting kisses with an evident smile on your face. 

If he wasn’t there, where would he be?

There were flashes of white that blinded him, catching his off-guard as he thought of the escaped drug lord. Here he was, in the middle of an empty road, relishing in the sweet embrace after confessing his love for you, while an unsuspecting threat loomed over him. The sound of tires was gradually growing louder, along with the familiar faint cracking sound of a heavy object against the wet granite road. Horacio turned to his left, wincing as the harsh white headlights flashed into his eyes. There was a vehicle, a truck to be exact, that was taller than he was, speeding towards his general position. 

The night was beautiful, until it wasn’t. 

A familiar voice now laughs at him, the sound - maniacal and forced now echoed through the streets, bringing a whole new wave of pressure. Many would say that the best things in life go by too fast, Horacio would argue that everything in life went by too quick. 

The cocking of the gun rings in his ears, and a shimmer against the metal shines into his eyes. The weapon was now directed at him, and he frowned deeply at the gesture. 

 Life is so unpredictable, isn’t it? Just when you thought things would go well - it goes the opposite direction. 

As he stood in the middle of the road with you in his arms, he could hear the threats that were barked at him a few hours prior. His arms around you tightens, and he looks down at your head still tucked into the crook of his neck - blissfully unaware of the end that awaits the both of you. 

He smiles, and he knows that no matter what happens now, it would be done just to save you.

Engraved in your heart, he thinks, even if I die, I’ll live on forever. 

“You’re going to fucking regret this.”

And that, he finally didn’t.