#if i get hit by a bus tomorrow i will have died happy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gottagobuycheese · 2 years

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Seriously doubt this’ll fit in the tags, so I’m going to put this under a read-more since I have to put it somewhere and it feels like a cop out if I just hide it away in a writing folder I’ll never look at again, but, if you are able to hold back your curiosity, I would be very grateful.

(Like, genuinely, please don’t follow me down here. This is for me and me alone. But if you must, then I ask that you don’t ask me about it and don’t talk to me about it, because I almost certainly won’t acknowledge it. This will not come up again. Nothing will change.

Let’s just call it a writing experiment or something. Don’t ask, I will not elaborate.)

What to you mean. “Passed away peacefully,” what does that mean. Who the hell passes away peacefully. How could she. She’s 23. Who passes away peacefully at 23. We’re not old enough to die. My classmates aren’t old enough to die. That’s supposed to happen when you’re older. In my mom’s generation, not mine. She’s 23. You can’t do that.

I talked to you like, twice in our last year, maybe. Could probably count on two hands the number of times we actually spoke to each other. But we walked back from the hospital a lot together, I think. We had some bus rides together. And so much free pizza at the club events. Why did you hang out with me again? How did we even meet? Why did you ever listen to me, your stupid senior? I didn’t know what I was doing either. I barely studied. My advice wasn’t worth squat. I hope you did better than I did.

The joint class reunion was just a little over a week ago. Were you there, or were you working? Or were you already dead or dying? Did anyone know?

You have a really good picture for your funeral portrait, by the way. I always really liked your smile. Should I have told you that? Would it have made a difference? It was warm, and friendly, and when it was turned to me I really felt like you were happy to see me for some reason, even if I didn’t understand why. If I’d talked to you again, would something have changed? If we’d walked back from the hospital together more often, if I kept in touch with you, if I hadn’t moved back, if I’d stayed, if I tried harder to get a job there, if I’d done even one thing differently, would things have turned out better? Would there have been enough random coincidences to keep you alive, or was it always going to be this way?

Ah, look at all that arrogance. I’d honestly be surprised if you remembered me at all after I left. It’s not like I tried very hard to stay in touch.

I don’t even know how you died. I guess I never will, because your funeral’s in three days on the other side of the planet and even after all this time I can’t read a single lick of Chinese. It says you passed away peacefully. Is that supposed to be reassuring? Does that mean you didn’t kill yourself, at least? That’s usually how it is for us, isn’t it? I don’t think there’s been a single year where there wasn’t one. But they said you died peacefully. What does that mean? Did you die quickly, suddenly? Were you sick? Did you get hit by a car?

I hope it really was peaceful, whatever it was.

Am I even allowed to be this messed up about it? It’s not like we were friends. You were always friendly to me, and I was always happy to see you, but I don’t think I could call myself your friend. I know so little about you. If I really loved you, I would remember you better. If I really loved you, I wouldn’t go to work tomorrow. I’d remember your nickname, I’d remember the color of your school jacket. I’d remember why it always made me so happy to see you around, living your best life.

Or maybe I wouldn’t. I’ve never actually done this grief thing before, not personally. Not like this. Isn’t that weird? I barely knew you, but it feels so much worse than when my grandparents died. Is that messed up? Is that allowed?

Everyone’s wishing you and your family and your friends well. It all sounds the same. My deepest condolences to you and your family.

My deepest condolences to you and your family.

Doesn’t anyone have anything else to say? Is it...good, to say this? I’m sorry for you’re loss? Doesn’t it get annoying? Isn’t it frustrating?

In three days you’re going to be ashes. How’s that fair? A part of me still doesn’t believe it. This picture looks exactly like the you I remember, smiling brightly against the backdrop of a blue sky, and the names of all you family and friends are here, the names of our classmates, but I feel like if it were real we would’ve gotten an email from the alumni office by now. They’re always really prompt about that. So...it can’t be real, right? It’s not real if there’s no email.

I hate, most of all, I think, that nothing will change. I won’t do anything different tomorrow. I know I won’t, even though it’s 3 in the morning and I’ve already cried to sleep twice in the span of like, four hours, and I’m still writing this goddamn letter you’ll never read. I’m not that kind of person. I won’t start suddenly reaching out to old acquaintances I haven’t spoken to in years. I won’t suddenly be better at staying in touch with my friends. I won’t be any more sentimental than I already am.

And I hate, hate, hate, that even now, even as everyone is grieving, I’ve still got one foot in fiction. Half of my head is still in the clouds. I’ve always been like that, I think. Even as everything goes wrong, there’s a part of me that’s like, “Wow, just like that scene from—” “Oh, this would work really well in—” “Hey, I wonder if I could use that for—”

I read a book, recently, where it was kind of okay to do that. It was okay for that guy to use fiction as a coping mechanism for life’s small tragedies. That was one of the morals of the story; it’s okay to rely on fiction sometimes, to get through things.

For him, maybe. For me it’s despicable. It’s disgusting. It’s so fucking disrespectful and I can’t fucking stop. What’s wrong with me. Get your head our of the clouds. Can’t you see that someone died?

Already my memories of you are inaccurate. Soon, I’ll forget the sound of your voice, or conflate it with someone else’s. Did you invite me to archery practice, or were you in volleyball? Or were we in taekwondo together? Who was that friend you were always with? Did you ever try to drag me to the library, too? What did you want to be when you grew up? What did you want to specialize in? Did you do it? Was it worth it? Did you enjoy the life you lived?

Ah, I found it, scrolling through here. There was probably more than one, but we were definitely in the climbing society together. Man, that was a fun hike. Do you remember the views that time of year, the slight drizzle before the sun broke through the clouds? There were so many goat droppings where we had lunch. The picture I took then is still my phone background. I know it’s late, but sorry for slowing down the group with all those photos. At least we didn’t have to chase after the return bus, right?

Well, maybe you didn’t. When I went with my friends the first time, and in the last year, we definitely did. It’s a fun run through the trees, though, right after the ruins of that mining town. Highly recommend it.

Well, to someone else now, I guess. I hope you got to do it at least once.

There’s really a lot about you I didn’t know. You designed the new sports logo? I didn’t know you were that good at graphic design. Did you know I was going to be a graphic design major if I hadn’t gone to our school? We never would’ve crossed paths then. I wonder if I would’ve been smarter if I’d done that, if I would’ve have the courage to pursue the kind of job I really wanted. Or maybe I would’ve just flunked out. Maybe my relationship with my family would’ve been way worse, since we wouldn’t have had that time and distance to cool off. Maybe I wouldn’t even be alive right now.

What else is no one going to know about you? How much of you died when you died? How much of you will we be able to keep alive with just our faulty memories? Is that even the real you?

I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s all we’ll have left, so we’ll have to make do. Or not.

Still scrolling through your timeline. You look good in your graduation pictures, like you were having fun. That’s a relief. I’m glad you got to have it in person with your friends and family. I know it’s too late to congratulate you now, to tell you you did well, or that I’m proud of you. But, for what little it’s worth:

Congratulations. You did well. I’m proud of you.

Hey, why did you die? How come you’re only ever going to be 23? Every year for me feels like plenty, more than enough, but you’re going to be so young forever. At least I’m already older than you, I guess. You little sister’s going to be older than you one day, though. And of course, that’s the good outcome. I don’t envy her at all. It sucks to be older than someone who’s supposed to be older than you. It sucks so much.

If I offered to trade with you, would you accept it? Were you satisfied, or would you want to come back?

I’m satisfied. Isn’t that horrible? Even now, surprised by my own grief, watching the fallout of your loss, a part of me still keeps one foot angled towards the door, as if preparing to leave at a moment’s notice. I know how far-reaching grief is, I watched how far its ripples spread so many times, and yet, I still can’t shake the thought of leaving sometimes. Surely, not for me. We’ll grieve you. We’ll grieve everyone else. But I get to be special, right? If I ever left, by choice or not, everyone would just conveniently forget about me, right? I get to be special. I get to leave no mess behind. Everything would work out great for me. All of my problems would be magically solved or forgotten. None of this messy mourning, none of these unresolved questions, none of this why why why why why why why

(Sigh) This is pathetic. Even now, it’s still just me, isn’t it? I’m not really talking to you. This is just one great pity party. I don’t even know what I’m still doing here. None of this even makes sense. I’ll look at this tomorrow and not understand any of it. Maybe it’ll be embarrassing. I hope not. I’ll take any amount of embarrassment if

I wonder how much of you I’ll have forgotten by the time I wake up again.

Even so, I want to put this somewhere some version of you could have hypothetically seen it. If this stays locked away in my own writing folder, then there’s no version of you that would have ever read this. Even here, the chances would’ve been basically zero, but I suppose that’s a step up from actually zero.

I don’t know. It feels like, maybe if I put something of myself out there, honestly and without restraint for once, maybe I’ll get rewarded and it’ll reach you somehow. Only if you want, though; feel free to decline. Must be weird to get such a long letter from someone you haven’t talked to in over a year.

(Still checking my phone. There’s still no email)

Oh, ha, guess what. You know what is in my email? My score report from the exam a couple weeks ago. I can’t remember if you were also studying for these exams, or if you ever intended to try to move over here, but they actually aren’t that bad. You’d do fine on them.

I know everything is already done, and nothing will change, and you’re already dead, and this exam is already finished. But if you promise to come back, before I open this email, I’ll happily fail this exam. I’ll happily fail this exam as many times as it takes. I’ll switch careers. I’ll study as hard as you want.

Hey, guess what. I passed. I didn’t even go to the library to study.

Who am I kidding. I’m sure your family’s bargained everything by now; if that’s not enough to bring you back, then what are these useless little promises from someone like me worth?

I have a headache. I’m going to miss you, I think. At least for a while. Until the tears dry and I forget. But I hope I think of you often. I hope I think about you every time I go on a hike, or go rock climbing, or take a really cool photo at the top of a mountain.

(I wonder how many more times I’m going to remember you before I die, too. Is it hundreds? Thousands? Or just a few?)

I’m sorry that my life will be completely normal tomorrow. I’m sorry that your family is ruined. I’m sorry that you’re gone. Maybe, in another life, we would have been good friends. I've been starting to get it, lately, that idea of rather having loved and lost than never having loved at all. I never really understood why people would choose loss and grief instead of just forgetting, instead of just never knowing in the first place — that’s always the choice I would want to make for people, if I could choose for them — but I think I’m starting to. I choose it, too. These are my memories, and I get to choose to keep them. I wouldn’t want anyone to take them away from me.

Anyway, sorry. Take care. I hope it was a good life. I hope you enjoyed it.

#obviously I can't stop anyone from doing what they want #but if you didn't read ahead then thanks #and if you did...well. also thanks I guess #maybe #really really hoping no one's reading this but me. but.#I'm sure there's some part of me somewhere that did want it read if I put it here instead of hiding it away #slap it on the wall instead of keeping it in my head #so to speak #but I will not acknowledge it #anyway #at least this next rotation is super easy #I don't even have to be at work for another six hours #I don't really want to go (not that that's new lol) but at least I'll still get plenty of sleep #Cheese's personal molasses #death cw

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messers-moony · 3 years

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Nothing Left | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Wife!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: Everything crashes within seconds and Sirius doesn’t know where to go.

Everything went downhill so fucking fast. How was that even possible? Everything was perfectly fine a year ago, but it seems that within that year, everything had collapsed onto the helpless boy. It was like being beneath a crumbling concrete tower that fell with no warning. Like being slapped in the face unexpectedly. Like getting doused in freezing water on a Sunday morning.

In retrospect, it sucked.

Sirius Black would know first hand. His entire life had been a screw-up from the beginning. It started with his parents, who - at the start - loved him. But when he turned out to be the child they never wanted all that love had vanished. They tortured him, broke him piece by piece, they built up trauma that took years for him to express to his friends. It wasn’t until third year when they heard him crying alone in his four-poster bed and asked what was wrong. He could remember the comforting embrace James Potter had given him.

Nevertheless, it never ended there. The summer going into his sixth year, Sirius decided it was enough after too many Cruciatus Curses and body binding curses; enough was enough. His hands were trembling after enduring just ten minutes of the torture curse, and it was a struggle, but he packed everything he could. His heart broke at inevitably leaving his little brother behind. He could only hope that Regulus would understand.

It took a Knight Bus trip to the Potter residence in Godric’s Hollow. The sky could’ve resembled how Sirius felt. Back at Grimmauld Place Twelve, the sky was always cloudy and rainy. Godric’s Hollow allowed the sun to shine past the fluffy clouds, but tonight was different. The sky was dark and thick, black clouds covered the stars. Rain poured from them, and it pittered on the stone roads. Sirius was instantly drenched when he stepped off the Knight Bus.

Hesitantly he made his way to the door, where he knocked softly. The house was two stories and was a relatively big family home - not bigger than Grimmauld Place - but an average family home. The house was a mixture of grey, dark purples, and brown. It reminded Sirius of Remus’ patched jumpers. Sirius could hear movement from behind the plum door, and it opened to reveal a familiar face. James Potter with his messy hair, hazel eyes, and long limbs. James was muscular, but he was also tall, not Remus tall but taller than Sirius.

James didn’t speak and ushered him inside. The following morning at breakfast, Euphemia - Mrs. Potter - had given Sirius the excellent news of his new forever home. The Potters would never forget the way Sirius lit up and how a smile had taken over his face. Sirius didn’t remember being this happy except for when Regulus was born.

But his forever home was not forever.

In seventh year, James’ parents had died, and nobody had comforted Sirius except one person who attempted. James had Lily, and that was enough for him. Perhaps it was selfish to think that James should be comforting him. It was definitely selfish. Sirius was doing really good at hiding how he felt until he crumbled behind a tapestry near the dungeons.

Sirius didn’t know if it was good or bad luck that Regulus - his prefect Slytherin brother - had found him behind that tapestry. Regulus had pulled back the fabric slowly with his wand lit. His face had softened at his older brother sobbing with his knees to his chest. Regulus allowed his wand light to extinguish before sitting in front of him in the same position, allowing their socks to touch at the tips.

They sat there for a couple of minutes before Regulus moved closer, albeit hesitantly to sit beside Sirius. Regulus had his back against the concrete, and Sirius curled up onto him while the younger Black brother rubbed his older brother's back. Sirius cried harder and harder. It took an hour before he subdued to sniffles and whimpers, but Regulus took it as his time to speak.

“I know they meant a lot to you,” Regulus stated, still rubbing his older brothers back, “And I don’t blame you for grieving them.”

Sirius sniffled, “I ought to be grateful for them, really.” Regulus released a sound that sounded like a chuckle, but it was so foreign to Sirius he couldn’t tell, “They kept you safe. Kept you away from mother and father. They gave you a home where you could finally be you.”

“And no matter how mad I want to be at them for taking you away from me,” Regulus admitted, “I just can’t be because they gave you everything you wanted, and I’ve never seen you happier in my life.”

Regulus didn’t stop talking, “You know… I- I found my own James Potter.”

Sirius looked up at Regulus with flushed cheeks, but his facial expression was baffled, and Regulus presented him with a small smile, “Okay, maybe she isn’t my ‘James Potter’ per se because I don’t see her as a sister but rather she’s my girlfriend.”

“What’s- What’s her name?” Sirius croaked; his throat was so raw from crying.

“Y/n L/n.”

“A- A Gryffindor?”

Regulus made that sound again, “Yeah. A stupidly brave one too. Even worse.”

Sirius smiled, “I know her.”

“Don’t tell me she was one of your conquests.” Regulus grimaced, and Sirius chuckled, snuggling back into Regulus’ chest, “No, she wasn’t. It turns out she has the hots for the other Black brother.”

Regulus smiled, and they allowed the silence of the castle to consume them. It was dark in the corridor on the other side of the tapestry, and Regulus could see the faint moonlight peaking out. He could also imagine the stars glittering beautifully in the midnight sky. He could see the star Sirius shining brighter than ever, and he just wanted his brother to feel the same.

“I plan to marry her.” Regulus said before he could stop the words from falling from his mouth.

“What happens then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mother and father will never approve.”

Regulus scoffed, “I’m done with their bullshit and have been for quite a while.”

Sirius met his brother's eyes again, “I left right after you. It turns out there is no more heir to the Black family name.”

The older Black brother smiled brightly and tightened his grip on his younger brother. Regulus couldn’t remember feeling this warm since they were little boys running around the backyard. Sirius was practically on top of him, and that was okay. For now, everything seemed okay again. Maybe Euphemia and Fleamont were gone, but even in their deaths, they managed to benefit Sirius’ life.

Now it all seemed fruitless.

Only a couple of months later, Sirius and Regulus had gotten into a huge kerfuffle. It ended with screaming, raw throats, tears, and flushed cheeks. Sirius could remember how Regulus playfully mocked his and Remus’ relationship. He didn’t know exactly what happened, just that he was pouncing for his little brother, and Remus was holding him back. Sirius had yelled some very awful things that he couldn’t take back.

She hadn’t done anything. She didn’t even know that an argument had happened. Y/n had been reading in the common room when the book was flung out of her hand, and she was pushed against the stone wall of the Gryffindor Tower. Y/n met eyes with stormy grey ones, not unlike her lovers, but these weren’t her lovers. These were his elder brother's eyes, and he had lifted her off the floor against the wall until James had pulled Sirius off her.

Y/n hit the floor with a thud and repeatedly coughed, hands on her throat. James had stormed into the boy's dormitory with Sirius with him. She didn’t even understand what was happening not until she met up with Regulus in the prefect dorm, and he saw the marks on her neck. Sirius had taken it too far, and Regulus was furious. They were no longer on speaking terms.

Now Sirius had someone entirely different to grieve.

Sirius had felt like his heart hit the floor when he was forced to move out of James’ house with Lily due to Harry being born. Remus had moved away to take care of his sick mother and asked for privacy. The funds that had previously been in Sirius’ account had been squandered, and now he was paying the price.

He had absolutely nowhere to go. Truthfully, there was one place he could go, but he didn’t think he’d ever be accepted there. He had said unforgivable things, but James had given him enough confidence that it would be okay. Reluctantly, Sirius Black took the Knight Bus to the suburbs in London. The community felt so modern and new. It was different then Godric’s Hollow which had been around for so many years that it began to weather and erode.

The deja vu was hitting him like a brick. Their house was a mixture of grey, black, white, and maybe blue - Sirius couldn’t tell in the darkness if it was white or pale blue. Perhaps he’d find out tomorrow if he was even welcomed inside. Sighing and shivering, Sirius knocked on the door. He could hear little squeals of delight that sounded much like a child. He also heard talking, but he froze when the door opened.

Regulus Black, at the age of twenty-two, looked good. His hair was to his jaw, and it was wavy at the ends, whereas Sirius’ was much more straight. His eyes had turned silver over the years. His cheeks looked much fuller, and he looked a lot better. Regulus was no longer looked underweight, but he was still slim and skinny. Black family genes, Sirius supposed. Sirius couldn’t meet his brother's eyes.

“What do you want, Sirius.”

His name falling from Regulus’ mouth instead of a nickname hurt more than he expected, “I had nowhere else to go…”

Regulus scoffed, “James finally kick you out, eh?”

“Yeah, he did.” Sirius sounded so distant, “Perhaps it was about time, and here I am, at your doorstep.”

“Come on, Sirius.” Regulus motioned for him to come in, and Sirius did.

The house was much cozier inside. The floors were dark wood, almost black. The living room - on Sirius’ left - was a darker turquoise color with grey furniture. The dining room - on Sirius’ right - was a light grey. The furniture was a marble table, white wood chairs with cushions, and a beautiful light fixture. Regulus led him to the kitchen, which was straight ahead in the hallway.

It was a beautiful mint green color with black and white furniture. The appliances were primarily black and the furniture primarily white, but regardless, it was beautiful. They had another table in the kitchen that was a grey wood instead of the shiny marble in the dining room but nevertheless screamed elegance. Sirius sat at one of the barstools at the L of the counter. Regulus slid him a cup of tea.

“Your house is beautiful.” Sirius complimented, and Regulus placed the cup back into the saucer, “Thank you. My wife picked everything out for the most part. I either built it or painted it.” Regulus smiled.

“Your wife?”

Regulus hummed, “Y/n Black. Ring any bells?”

Sirius swallowed, “Yeah.”

They both took a sip of tea, “I have two kids too. Both boys.”

“Two?!“ Sirius nearly spat out the liquid he had just taken a sip of.

“Twins. Fraternal, thankfully.”

He placed the cup down, “What’re their names?“

“Perseus Regulus Black and Leo Alphard Black.”

“Perseus and Leo, huh?“

Regulus blushed, “It wasn’t my idea. It was Y/n’s.”

“I like them,” Regulus looked up at him, “The names. I’m sure they fit them too.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t long until footsteps began to echo coming down the steps. Y/n had grown up too. Her face was sharper and her curves more defined. If Sirius was honest, she didn’t look like she had kids at all. To be fair, he wasn’t really staring at Y/n but more so his brother. Regulus had a starstruck expression as his wife walked towards him. He had a dopey smile on his face and stars in his eyes. Regulus really loved her, and Sirius could tell, hell, anyone could.

Y/n stopped in her tracks at seeing Sirius, “What’s he doing here?”

Regulus placed an arm around her waist, “He came looking for a place to stay. While I was waiting for you, I decided to catch up with him for a little.”

Sirius looked guilty, “Ultimately, I’m leaving this decision up to you.”

Y/n sighed and looked at both brothers. She thought of what he did back at Hogwarts. She thought of how Regulus had cried and ached for his brother, wishing for their relationship to be back the way it was. She thought of her two children who always asked about their Uncle Sirius, who was never around.

“Sirius,” Y/n began, and Sirius held his breath, “Where will you go if I were to say no?”

Sirius looked at his lap, “The streets.”

He couldn’t hear the footsteps that approached him until soft hands lifted his head where he met soft e/c eyes, “I’m willing to look past everything that happened at Hogwarts for the sake of my children. They deserve their uncle. But I need you to show me that I can trust you and that you won’t cause trouble.”

“I’ll do anything.” Sirius complied, and Regulus smirked, “Don’t say that. She’ll have you remodel something.”

“You’re an asshole.” Y/n whirled, and Regulus continued to smirk, “I told you to use magic, and you said we should do it the Muggle way.”

He shrugged, “We got good memories out of doing it the Muggle way.”

“If getting paint all over me counts as good memories, then sure.”

“It does.” Regulus smiled, “Your face was priceless.”

“Dickhead.” She muttered.

Sirius grinned, “Well, Sirius. If Y/n lets you stay, then you’re welcome here. What I did back at Hogwarts was uncalled for, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mocked you and Remus.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” Regulus countered solemnly, “Had I not done that; then we could’ve had a better relationship. For that, I’m sorry.”

Sirius stood up and hugged Regulus tight, “New beginnings?”

“New beginnings.” Regulus smiled.

Regulus led Sirius up the wooden stairs up to the second story. It seemed to have had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, one in the master bedroom, one in the hallway, not including the one downstairs. On the end of the left side was a door leading to the master bedroom. On the right end was a cabinet and two doors across from one another. Then in the middle of the back was a door leading to another bedroom which Regulus had opened.

The bedroom was spotless and beautiful. It was painted a grey with purple undertone with a queen-sized bed. Most of the furniture was white, and the bedding was black. Sirius had brought his trunk to its normal size and placed it at the end of the bed. Regulus smiled as Sirius looked around.

“This is yours for as long as you want it.” Regulus stated softly snd Sirius had tears in his eyes, “Thank you.”

Sirius hugged his brother again, “I really mean it, thank you.”

“I love you, Sirius.” Regulus confessed, “You’ll always be my brother. The one who held me during thunderstorms. The one who sewed up my teddy bear when it had gotten ripped. The one who took the blame so I wouldn’t get punished.”

Sirius was gripping the back of his shirt tightly, “That stuff doesn’t just go away.”

They parted, and Regulus smiled, “Get some sleep. I’m sure you’d like to see the boys tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like to meet my nephews.” Sirius admitted smiling brightly.

“Get some sleep, Siri.”

“You too, Reggie.”

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woniepop · 3 years

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encore

➜ sunghoon had never fallen in love with anything the way he did with skating. the wind in his face, the crunch of the ice beneath his feet, it was wonderful. and yet, something about it made your blood boil. you once loved ice skating too, for the same reasons as he, but maybe all you needed was a simple goodbye to understand park sunghoon.

wc: 4.6k

genre: ice skating au, best friends to lovers (ish), angst, fluff, romance, slice of life

content warnings: illness, mentions of medication, mentions of blood, death, mentions of anxiety, mentions of fainting, hospitals, angst, death of a loved one

heavily based off Your Lie in April

tagging: @svnghoonie @unghoon @swanlakesujin @heeblr @sweetseung @ferxanda @katberri @usdolans @kisshoons @scintillasofbeomgyu @leemika @qngelhoonie

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time i’m writing something like this, so i hop eyou guys enjoy it because i’d be super down to write more in the future.

Friday, October 16, 2020

The busy sounds of couples, families, and friends fill the air as the cold wind hits your face. Holding hands with your mom, you glide through the ice, laughter filling the entire rink. The bleachers, the other skaters, the floor, it all disappears and the only thing that’s left is you and your mom. Your seven year old self had never felt so alive.

And yet, here you were, seventeen, staring off into the ice rink as other kids and their mothers ice skated. Ever since you fell in love with the sport it had been the bane of your existence. Mom died, so you stopped. You swore to never go back again, it gave you anxiety. You tried, you really did, but something about being on the ice reminded you so much of the past you wanted to leave behind. It went downhill from then on.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” a familiar voice calls out to you. Sunghoon, who had been practicing for his upcoming competition, leans against the side of the rink, talking to you who was sitting on the bleachers.

“Just my mom again,” you reply.

“It’s been a while since she passed away, huh. Should we go get some ice cream to cheer you up then?” He says as he skates towards the exit, walking to you. You stand up, bag in hand, and wait for him to change out of his skates. Sunghoon, who had been your best friend since your five year old skating class, had been with you through everything. He always seemed to know just what to say to cheer you up.

“Hey, y/n. Do you think you’d ever try to skate again?” Sunghoon asks, fully knowing the answer but hoping maybe this time it'll be different.

“Haha, you really want me to get back into skating that badly?”

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve done it. You don’t have to compete with me again, you know. But why don’t you just try it again for fun?”

You stop in your tracks and think about it. It wouldn’t hurt to try for fun. It was your life at one point. “Fine, tomorrow afternoon. But that’s it.” you say, watching his face light up.

Saturday, October 17, 2020

“Don’t let go, Sunghoon. I SAID DON’T LET GO.” You shout, as he laughs.

“Y/n, just relax. You know this. I’m letting go now.”

“SUNGHOON!” you shout. Your legs bent and you stand in place, too scared to move. You watch as he takes your hand and guides you around the rink. The nostalgia comes rushing back. The wind in your face, the feeling of your feet gliding across the ice like nothing, it had been so long. Before you realize it, you had let go of Sunghoon and gone way ahead of him. Looking back, you find him smiling at you. You remember this feeling, and you loved it.

You’d definitely got your love of skating from your mom. Being the daughter of a professional skater, it had been your dream to be like her. She was and always will be your role model. When you had quit skating you wondered if she’d be disappointed in you for quitting, but thoughts of her always flooded your mind and you could never focus on the task at hand. You knew your mom would never be disappointed in you, but you were disappointed in you.

It had been half an hour of skating and an all too familiar voice calls out to you.

“Y/n!”

“Mom?” you say in response. You look back, no one. Not soon after, your breathing gets heavy, the world starts spinning and the nostalgia of the rink gets washed over by spots of black, your head was pounding. You keep looking. Where was she? Why was this happening? You wanted to hug her. Was she proud of you? Upset that you didn’t skate anymore? Why did she leave you? Before you know it, you could feel Sunghoon holding you on the floor before going unconscious.

Sunday, October 18, 2020

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Sunghoon says, clutching your hand while kneeling next to your bed.

“Sunghoon, I’m fine. It’s not your fault.”

“BUT IT IS! I asked you to skate with me and now you’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt. It’s okay.” you say as you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. You look at the clock. 7pm. It was the next day. “Don’t you have practice? Let’s go.”

“What do you mean let’s go?!? You just woke up??” Sunghoon utters in a panic.

“Yeah, which means I’m energized. I need to make sure you don’t stay there for too long and hurt yourself too.” you say, standing up to shoo Sunghoon out so you can change. “Wait on the couch,”

A few moments later you both were out the door and on the bus to the ice rink.

“I’m not going to stay for long then. I don’t want you to be out for too long.” He decides.

“That’s fine.”

The noise Sunghoon’s skates made as they hit the ice and the chilly air gave you comfort as you watched him run through his routine. Running his fingers through his hair, your eyes follow him wherever he went. He knew you were watching, which was why he was putting on his best performance. The both of you had never felt butterflies for each other like the way you did now. Before you knew it, the two of you were falling hard.

“Y/n, let’s go now.” Sunghoon says as his chest rises up and down, panting from his last run.

“Okay, you did good today.” You compliment him as you walk to the bus. His hand accidentally bumps into yours. You desperately wished that he had gone to hold yours, but he was just your best friend. Nothing more. The ride was filled with a comfortable silence. You stared out the window while Sunghoon stared at you. Feeling his gaze on you, you turn to look at him only for him to turn away and pretend like he was looking the other way. Having spent almost everyday for the past ten years with Sunghoon, you guys never needed to talk constantly, having each other there was just enough to have a great day.

You get off together, but Sunghoon was acting suspiciously jittery. He walks you home, but you see him turn the opposite direction of your house once you’re inside. Weird.

Alone, Sunghoon gets back on the bus. His home was close enough to walk from your house, though. “What was he doing?”, you thought.

Arriving at his destination, Sunghoon sighs as he puts a hand up to his backpack strap.

“Name?” the receptionist asks.

“Park Sunghoon.”

“Sunghoon! I’m sorry to see you back. You’ve grown so well. The doctor is ready for you in room 306. Good luck!”

In and out of hospitals ever since the seventh grade, twelve year old Sunghoon stands in the dark hospital hallway, watching his parents cry in the moonlit lobby. He didn’t have much time left, he thought.

Trudging through the all too familiar hallways, Sunghoon makes a left turn and opens the fourth door to the right. He knew this place like the back of his hand.

“Hey Sunghoon! Welcome back! Just take a seat over there and I’ll start preparing to run some tests and then we’ll talk about starting your physical therapy.” The doctor says in a way too cheerful voice.

“That sound’s good. Thank you.” Sunghoon replies. Hearing the sound of the door clicking shut, Sunghoon sat deep in thought. He wanted to skate with you again, but he was worried about your health. Just one more time. That was what he wanted. The glimmer in your eyes, you huge yet adorable smile. He wanted to see it again.

Next Saturday, October 24, 2020

The day started out hectic but you finally found your seat in the stands. You waited for them to announce Sunghoon. Alas, he came gliding out and the crowd was already cheering. Before he starts his eyes search for you, smile widening when his eyes finally meet with yours. Although he had other passions, like skating, his favorite one would always be you. The music starts and the audience quiets down. You had probably seen this routine over 100 times, but something about the setting, the mood, made it seem like a whole new dance. Every move he made drew you further in. He pushed the audience to the edge of their seats leaving them in awe. It was all for you. Everything about him at that moment was brilliant. Once he ends, the audience roars and Sunghoon, not surprisingly, ends up winning. Of course he won. He was your Sunghoon.

You make a beeline towards the performers’ hall and jump onto Sunghoon’s back, accidentally hitting his face with the flowers you had purchased a few moments before.

“Y/n, I told you to stop buying me these. They’re a waste of money.” Sunghoon giggles, happy to see you. You’d had always brushed them off as a pretty reward for a pretty performer, but there had always been a separate meaning behind the red tulips you give him. They would always end up in your home, in the glass vase next to the couch. A gift from your father to your mother, every Friday. Red tulips, the symbol of true love.

“Alright, I need to go change, wait here.” he says, leaving you behind.

An hour goes by and you were starting to get a bit worried. You knock on his changing room door. Nothing. Did he leave without you? You knock on the door again, and nothing. Opening the door, your eyes widen and you let out a gasp. Sunghoon had fainted due to exhaustion and the blood from his head injury had stained the floor.

You call the ambulance and thankfully they arrive quickly. Refusing to leave Sunghoon’s side, you watch as the nurses wrap bandages around his head. This had been the first time you’d seen Sunghoon like this. Was it happening often? Did he not get enough sleep last night?

“Sunghoon, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You passed out from exhaustion again and we’ve handled your head injury. You’re free to go anytime.” The doctor says.

“Again?” you ask.

“Yeah, but only a long time ago. You don’t need to worry about it.” Sunghoon says. “My parents have been overreacting and making me get routine tests, though.”

As a kid, you hated going to the hospital, and Sunghoon knew that. It was bland, it was boring, but most of all it’s the place you lost your mother. You hated the hospital. You’d come almost every month, week even, watching them run tests on your mom, prescribe her what seemed to be like hundreds of different medications, it was terrible. Losing your parent to cancer was not fun. No more skating, no more family days, no more cheering at competitions. Your family dinners turning to just you and your dad, and then just you. Referring to your parents as my “parent,”. Learning how to live life without the person you cherished most. It seemed like your life revolved around that retched place you called the hospital.

The rain poured and thunder boomed through the quiet hospital. He had sent you home before it rained, not wanting you to get wet and sick from the cold. Sunghoon sat still and thought to himself in his bed. “I see, so I’ve passed out again,” he thinks.

Monday, October 26, 2020

The chair screeches across the floor as Sunghoon drags it to your desk.

“Y/nnnnnnn” he whines, seeing you eat your gummy worms.

“No.”

“But I’m hungryyyy” he cries. You roll your eyes, placing one in his hand. You watch as he holds one side close to his mouth as if he was waiting for something.

“Sunghoon, what are you doing?” you ask.

“Bite the other side” he says, causing your face to go red.

“No”

“yes”

“no”

“why not?” he says with his best attempt at puppy eyes and a pout.

“why?” you ask, hoping he hasn’t noticed your tomato red face yet

“cause I want to. we can lady and tramp it.” he says. “you know you want to.”

“I’m not going to lady and tramp a gummy worm with you. eat it or i’m taking it back.” you argue.

“Fine, but I have a proposal.” he announces. “I want to enter the next competition with you. Just one. Give me one more duet before you quit for good.”

“no,” you reply. “I’m never skating again.”

“Why not? You love it”

“Why do you want me to skate so badly?” you ask. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell you the real reason. He couldn’t tell you he was dying, that was a huge no.

“I miss being able to skate with my best friend. I feel so lonely.” he says, puppy eyes resurfacing.

“I’ll think about it then.”

“Good. Meet me at the ice rink on Saturday at 10am” he exclaims before getting up to go back to his desk.

“I haven’t even agreed.”

“Oops I can’t hear you!” he says as you roll your eyes.

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Little you steps off the ice as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes. Running out of the rink into the changing room, you latch on to your mother.

“Mommy, I’m not gonna win,” you say. Her hand comes up to run her fingers through your hair. She coos at you until your breathing has relaxed.

“Why don’t you think you’d win, honey? I loved watching you out there. You were so beautiful.” she says.

“I fell on the ice! Winners don’t do that. I wanted to win just like you.” you manage to sniffle out. You feel your mother give you a kiss on the forehead before kneeling and holding both of your hands.

“Ah, you see, my love, they do! Mommy fell all the time! She still falls! I promise you no winner has never fallen. Mommy only wins because she knows what it’s like to fall! Even if you don’t win, mommy is very proud of you, okay?” she says.

You bolt up from your sleep. It was just a dream. Scrunching your face, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out, you force yourself to get ready for the day, not giving any time to be sad and reminisce.

You enter the complex, Sunghoon standing at the entrance of the rink, impatiently waiting for you. He was so excited. This was going to work out for him. You both walk to the bleachers to satrt lacing your skates, Sunghoon practically bouncing off the walls.

“Aw man, I forgot my hair tie” you complain. Sunghoon pauses lacing his boots and holds his arm out to you.

“Here” Sunghoon says as you look at the extra hair tie on his wrist.

“Why do you have these.” you ask.

“You always forget.” he says, unsurprised.

“Awwww you were thinking of me?” you teased.

“Of course, idiot. Did you forget? I’m never not thinking of you” Sunghoon argued, wallking away, leaving you dumbfounded and blushing like a tomato.

Once again you step into the rink. You were stronger this time. Taking a deep breath you start to glide across the ice once again. It was very unsettling, though. Being on the ice, having fainted the last time you were here. Both you and Sunghoon were on edge, but you were determined to help him win this competition.

The day was filled with talking with your instructor, cleaning up your spins and jumps, and getting back to where you were before. You were getting it and you showed no signs of panic. Sunghoon was so proud of you. YOU were proud of you.

Sunghoon was happy, and he was hopeful. On his walk home all his thoughts were filled with you. Loving you ever since the seventh grade, when he found out he had an illness. He had decided never to tell you, fearing his time would come and leave you alone, but it was too late now. He didn’t want to push you away, you were his ride or die. His heart ached, he didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want you to have to live alone.

Opening the door to his home, he walks through the hallway, leaning against the wall limping to his room. Every big event Sunghoon would write you a letter, and so tonight he poured his heart out onto this piece of paper, tears staining his face.

Sunday, November 1, 2020

On Sunday, you show up to his house unexpectedly but not surprisingly. “Sunghoon, get dressed. We’re going to the market.” you say. Without question, he does as you ask and you both head to the market in no time.

Walking down the ice cream aisle, you grab all the flavors you enjoy, filling your whole basket with different ice creams, toppings, fruit, drinks, and even a cake. “You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?” Sunghoon teases, earning him a slap to the arm.

As soon as you get home, you send Sunghoon alone to his bedroom, telling him you need time to prepare everything. You had pulled all the stops, whipping out the cheap snoopy shaved ice maker, birthday party hats, streamers, balloons, and banners. It was no one’s birthday in particular, but the fake birthday party put you in a festive and refreshing mood. You had set up a giant ice cream sundae bar, and had even made lemonade.

Calling Sunghoon to come out of the bedroom, he was not surprised but very impressed. Wanting to make it even more fun, he suggests to make sundaes for one another, which you happily agree to. The day was so fun, and it was hardly possible, but Sunghoon had fallen in love with you even more.

Sunghoon was so happy that you planned something like this. He was never one to do anything cute for you unless you begged, so this time he wanted to show you how grateful he was to you by giving you one FREE boop on the nose. Scooping some ice cream with his fingertip, he lightly taps your nose, leaving the melted strawberry ice cream to drip off your nose. You turn to look at him in disgust, eventually dipping your finger in the ice cream and starting a war.

Monday, November 2, 2020

From: Sunghoon (sent at 7:30am)

[ GOOD MORNIN PARTY PEOPLE!!! ]

From: you

[ where are you ]

From: Sunghoon

[ Oh yeah I forgot to tell you I’m not coming today. ]

From: you

[ what, why? I don’t wanna eat lunch alone like a loser. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ oh yeah. i’m back at the hospital LMAOOOO ]

From: you

[ WHY ]

From: Sunghoon

[ idk i forgot. i just woke up here and they were like “hihi” and i said “hihi” back ]

From: you

[ you are unbelievable. i’m coming after school. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ NO DON’T ]

From: you

[ why ]

From: Sunghoon

[ i don’t wanna get yelled at again. only come if you bring me more gummy worms ]

From: you

[ fine. since you’re sick ]

You acted like you didn’t care, but you were so worried. What could’ve happened? Why couldn’t he remember? Even when bed ridden, he still managed to get you to fall head over heels.

That afternoon, you arrive at the hospital, finding Sunghoon playing video games while lying in bed. You chuckled. Even with head bandages and an IV drip, he still managed to be his teenage boyish self.

“Y/n! Today was so boring. Can we take a walk in the garden, I’m sick of being here.” he asks, to which you reluctantly agreed.

During your stroll you talked about anything and everything, a common activity you both did.

“How was school today? Did you miss me?” Sunghoon asks cheekily.

“I did actually. I didn’t realize how much time I spend with you until today.” you respond. “But, it was okay. I got your gummy worms and some other snacks too. I know you hate hospital food.”

“Well I missed you too, there was no one but the staff to bother.” He chuckles. “You know, I’m not always going to be around to help you.”

“I know, but we have time.”

Before you knew it, the sun was setting and Sunghoon sent you home so you didn’t have to walk alone in the dark. On his walk back to his room, Sunghoon worried. The thing was, you didn’t have time. The fact that you missed him in just a few hours? How would you feel about forever? He never wanted you to have bad days, let alone be the one to cause them.

Walking through the hallways he trips and falls. Landing on his knees. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t. Why wouldn’t his legs move? He punched his leg. Nothing. Again. It was no use. He had lost feeling in his legs. Tears start pouring out of his eyes. Move, it’s just your leg. Get up. Move. Water droplets fall from his face as he bangs his fist on the floor. Why can’t he move. Eventually he gives up, dragging himself back to his room with his arms. They hurt. His heart hurt. Everything hurt. Was this it?

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

After last night’s events, Sunghoon felt out of it. He wouldn’t be able to go back to school for a while, the nurses claiming that if it happens again the situation can be way worse. He couldn’t skate anymore. He couldn’t see YOU skate anymore. This was it. His illness was getting to him.

With a knock on the door, Sunghoon falls right out of his daze and watches as you come in with another bag of goodies.

“I brought you some stuff from the convenience store.” You say, taking out a bottle of green tea and handing it to him. He reaches out to grab it but as soon as you let go the bottle slips out of his hands.

Ah, so it’s spreading to my arms too, he thinks as he realizes he was too weak to grip the bottle. The doctors told his parents last night that surgery was an option, but it would only give him a little more time, but he wanted to take it. He wanted to be able to skate a little longer. He wanted to make it to the competition.

“I’m in the mood to watch all the Studio Ghibli movies in one sitting.” Sunghoon says as he leans his head back.

“Scoot over,” you reply, getting up to sit in his bed with him. “Good thing I brought my laptop.”

“Are you sure? That’s gonna be like all night.” He asks.

“Of course, I’m always in the mood for you,” you say as Sunghoon wraps an arm around you, prepared for the whole night of cuddling and movie watching.

Half way through the marathon you feel Sunghoon nuzzle his face into your neck. His soft snoring tickled you. You bring your hand up to stroke his hair. Park Sunghoon, I am so in love with you, you think. Your smile. Your eyes. Your lips. Your hair. Your voice. You teasing. The way you say my name. The way you stare at me. The way you talk. The way you smile at me. The way my day isn’t complete without you. I love you.

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

The next day was supposed to be better. Sunghoon was going to see you and you were gonna get him more gummy worms. Sitting up with him on his bed, you were cuddling, and he seemed to be getting paler and paler by the minute. He seemed really tired, like he was sick to his stomach.

You got up to go get him a drink from the vending machine, and as you came back nurses and doctors were rushing in and out of your best friend’s room. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of it’s chest and you run to his room. Sunghoon was clutching onto the sides of the bed, doctors scrambling to get the defibrillator going. His heart had stopped.

You’d later learn that he had gone into cardiac arrest, and you watched as the nurses wheeled his bed to the ICU. But the surgery didn’t work, and he didn’t survive. You felt numb. Stretching out a trembling arm, you took hold of Sunghoon’s hand. You shut your eyes and squeezed his palm. It was cold. Your hand trembled harder with each passing second, as if the movement would cause Sunghoon to wake up. Your face buried into the crook of his neck. You nudged the bridge of your nose against the cool skin. Your lips brushed against his collarbone in desperate search of that familiar warmth. Both hands had clasped around Sunghoon’s, quavering without pause. Devastation weighed down on you. It was a surreal feeling, one that you could never in one million years describe. It squeezed you, threatening to crush you from the inside out. The pain seared itself into your soul, hindering him, rendering him speechless to a point where he no longer knew what words were. A sob wretched its way out from your throat. You tried desperately to hold it in. Tried so hard to keep yourself together, but you knew you were too weak to pull such a bluff. Once the second sob had left you, you felt yourself spiraling. There was no hiding it.

The doctor comes to hand you a letter. Weakly reaching out, you read it right away. You were desperate. You needed to hear something from Sunghoon, anything.

Dear Y/n,

HI BESTIE, I know I write you one of these every big event, but I’m afraid this might be my last. I’m sorry if you’re getting the before the competition. I desperately wanted to skate with you, but I guess if you’re reading this then my time has come. I hope you’re doing okay. I don’t want you to miss me too much. Please keep skating. I love watching you skate, more than anything. You look so happy, so carefree. I want you to live like that always. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but I don’t want you to associate something you love so much with sadness. I’m with your mom now, and we’re rooting for you. Always.

I know it was pretty obvious, but I love you. Actually, that’s an understatement. I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts when I’m not with you. I’m in love with you. And I love that I’m in love with you. I love the feelings. The happiness when I think of you, the butterflies when you text me, the excitement I get when I know I’ll get to see you. It’s amazing. And you’re amazing, and I love you. And I’m sorry I had to keep so many secrets. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the competition. I’m sorry for not telling you about my illness. I didn’t want you to carry this burden with me. You’re the light of my life, Y/n. I love you.

Love,

your bestie, sunghoon.

300 notes · View notes

babygirl-diaz · 3 years

Text

Samtember 23: Happy Birthday

2193 Words | Rated G | For @samwilsonfest

Sam felt like he was missing something when he woke up this morning. But he shrugged it off, thinking that if it was important, it would come to him eventually. So he went on his usual run, came back home to shower, make himself coffee before heading out to the base to train Joaquin. All the while, he kept getting the sense that he was forgetting something important.

As he flew up in the air with Joaquin behind him, he heard the younger man's voice in his ear...

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Sam. Happy birthday to you," he sang. "Sam, get to the ground, I want to show you something."

"Show me what?" Sam asked.

"Can't tell you, man. It's a surprise."

Sam rolled his eyes behind his goggles and dove towards the ground. When he got to his feet, he looked around and found a couple of guys from the air force standing around, looking up at the sky. Curious, Sam looked up too, and his eyes widened. Joaquin had written "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM," in the sky.

"Happy birthday, Sam."

"Happy birthday, Cap."

The air force guys wished him.

When Joaquin got back to the ground, he gave Sam a broad smile and pulled him into a hug, much to Sam's surprise. "Happy birthday, Cap!"

"Thanks, man," Sam awkwardly pat him on the back.

"Wanna get lunch? My treat," said Joaquin.

Sam contemplated the offer. He didn't have to do anything for the rest of the day and he was far from home, so it would be nice not to spend his birthday alone.

"Okay."

They ended up at a bar, although it was only 1 PM. After a cheeseburger, a couple of beers, and a great conversation with Joaquin, Sam was a happy camper. Once they finished lunch, Joaquin headed to the bathroom, giving Sam time to finally look at his phone.

"Shit," he hissed when he realized he had 20 missed calls from Sarah as well as 5 messages asking him to call her back.

Figuring that Sarah must want to wish him on his birthday, he called her back.

"Sam! Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all morning!"

"Hello to you too, sis," Sam chuckled. "Sorry, I was a little busy--"

"Sam, I need you to come home."

Sam sat up straight, the buzz of the beer immediately wearing off when he heard the worry in his sister's voice. "What's wrong?"

"Can't tell you that over the phone. Could you please just come back today?"

"I- I can't drive. I've been drinking."

"It's only 2 PM there! Can't you catch a flight? I'll pick you up from New Orleans."

"Okay," Sam replied. "Yeah, okay, I'll be there. Whatever this is, can't it wait till tomorrow?"

"No, it's really urgent, Sam. I'm kinda in a whole lotta trouble."

"Shit, Sarah. What did you do?" Sam rubbed his forehead.

"Just get here!" Sarah said before hanging up.

"Everything okay?"

Sam looked up to find Joaquin giving him a concerned look.

"It's my sister. She's in some kinda trouble. She needs me home right away."

"Damn," said Joaquin. "What you gonna do now?"

"Head home." Sam sighed as he looked up flights on Google.

"You driving?" Joaquin asked.

"Been drinking, Joaquin. Can't drive," Sam replied, although he felt much sober now.

"I could drive you! A road trip will be nice!"

"You've been drinking too, buddy," Sam reminded him. Joaquin looked visibly disappointed, but he nodded. Sam booked the flight and got up from his seat. "Thanks for lunch, man. This was great. Let's catch up when I get back."

With that, he gave Joaquin a quick hug before heading back to his apartment to pack.

***

On the plane, Sam tried to relax but he couldn’t.

“You alright there?” Sam’s neighbor asked.

Sam tried not to groan. So the person beside him was a talker. “Yeah, I’m good,” Sam replied and finally looked over at the person. He had to do a double-take because the guy looked so much like Steve. But that wasn’t all. Sam had actually seen him somewhere before.

“Wait… Don’t I know you?” Both the guy and Sam asked at the same time. The guy laughed and shook his head.

“I’m Toby,” he introduced himself.

“You’re the guy that plays Steve Rogers on the Broadway show…” Sam trailed off. Sam felt a pang in his heart as he continued to watch the guy.

“Yeah and you’re the real Captain America,” the guy -Toby- said, giving him a smile. “Sorry, this must be really weird,” he continued.

“You have no idea.” Sam laughed humorlessly and shook his head.

“Can I ask you something?” Toby asked.

“No, he was a terrible singer,” Sam replied.

Toby looked confused for a second before he burst out laughing. “You a mind reader too, huh? Is that your superpower?”

“I wish,” Sam scoffed. “No, but really, what was your question?”

“Is he on the moon?” A smirk spread across Toby’s lips.

“Yeah, he’s totally on the moon. Just chilling up there. I actually fly up there every uh-- Monday and Thursday and we hang out.” Sam rolled his eyes.

That made Toby laugh even more. “Man, you’re hilarious,” as his laughter died down, a serious look spread across his face, “Can I make this even weirder?” He asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t reply.

“Happy birthday,” said Toby.

“How did you--”

“I follow you. Quite extensively,” Toby replied, visibly cringing. “I am kind of a huge fanboy.”

Sam blinked at him and tried to find the right words. He was flattered… but also weirded out.

“And now you look like you’re looking for an escape route.” Toby awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “And that wasn’t even the weird part.”

“There’s more?” Sam asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I was going to ask if you would like to go out with me sometime?”

“Oh…” Sam mumbled. “Look, I’m flattered but…”

“But it’s weird. Dating your potentially dead best friend’s look alike?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Sam laughed awkwardly. “I wish the circumstances were different cause you’re a very good-looking guy. Besides, I live in D.C. and you live in New York… it wouldn’t work.” Speaking of New York, Sam looked down at his phone and realized he had no calls or messages from Bucky. He felt another pang in his heart. Did Bucky forget it was Sam’s birthday? Sam could forgive Sarah for forgetting since she was stressed out, but Bucky had no excuse.

“Hello?” Toby brought Sam out of his thoughts and Sam looked over at him to find the guy giving him a curious look. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. And sorry again.”

“Oh, don’t sweat it. Can I have your phone?” Toby asked.

Sam looked at him suspiciously, but then he unlocked his phone and gave it to the actor.

“That’s my number. If you ever wanna watch the show, just hit me up and I’ll leave you the tickets. Or if you ever just wanna hang out, lemme know.” The guy gave him a charming smile that resembled Steve’s before handing over his phone.

They landed soon and Toby wished Sam a happy birthday once again before they parted ways.

Sam’s phone rang as he made his way to the exit and he quickly took it out, only to find it was Sharon. He tried not to sound disappointed as he answered the phone, “Hey Sharon.”

“Happy birthday, Sam,” she said, making Sam smile.

“Thanks,” Sam replied.

“Where are you? I was hoping to take you out to dinner tonight. Figured you wouldn’t want to be on your own on your birthday.”

“I’m in Louisiana,” Sam replied. “Just landed here.”

“Oh wow. That wasn’t in your plan until yesterday.”

“Plans changed,” Sam replied, shrugging, although she couldn’t see him.

“Well, I owe you dinner then,” said Sharon. “Catch up with me when you get back?”

“Will do.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up by the time Sam got to the exit. Sam then called up Sarah. “Where are you?” He asked.

“I’m almost there,” Sarah replied.

Sarah was there 5 minutes later and when Sam opened the passenger door to get in, he heard part of the conversation she was having on the phone. “I’m on my way,” she said to someone. “I swear Bu-- Bonnie, if you mess this up--”

Sam frowned at that. He was so sure Sarah was about to say Bucky.

“What, you too old to give your sister a hug now?” Sarah asked after she hung up.

Sam rolled his eyes at her dramatics and reached over to hug her. “How you doing?” He asked.

“I could be better,” Sarah replied.

Sam pulled apart and gave her a sympathetic look. “You wanna tell me what’s going on now?” He asked as she pulled out of the loading zone.

“When we get home,” Sarah replied. “Can we talk about something else for now?”

“Okay,” Sam sighed and let it go. For now.

They talked about Sam’s Cap job. Sarah seemed proud of him. She even said so multiple times, which made Sam smile throughout their ride to Delacroix.

“So who’s Bonnie and why were you threatening her?” Sam asked as they pulled up in the driveway.

“Oh, she’s just one of the moms in PTA. We have a fundraiser coming up but it’s hard to leave her in charge of things.” Sarah replied as she typed away on her phone.

“Then why do you?” Sam asked as he got out of the car and grabbed his backpack.

“I ask myself the same question,” Sarah mumbled under her breath, but Sam still heard it.

The house was eerily quiet when Sam and Sarah got inside. “Where are the boys?” Sam asked. But then he heard noises in the backyard and immediately became alert. “Is there someone back there?” Sam asked.

“Why don’t you go check it out?” Sarah suggested.

Her nonchalance took Sam aback but he said nothing as he made his way towards the backdoor.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM!”

“Shit!” Sam almost fell back when a group of about 30 people greeted him in the backyard. “What is happening?” Sam asked, dumbfounded.

“Your birthday, that’s what, Uncle Sam!” AJ laughed as he and Cass came over and hugged him. “Happy birthday, Uncle Sam,” both kids wished him at the same time.

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Sarah smiling broadly at him. “Happy birthday, Sam,” she wished him but couldn’t give him a hug as she was holding his birthday cake. So Sam gave her a side hug instead.

“Is Bucky here too?” He asked when he noticed the Oreo cake Sarah was holding.

“Yeah, he’s in the back there, trying but failing to grill,” she laughed. “Go get him while I get the cake set up.”

Sam nodded and made his way through the crowd, greeting and talking to pretty much everyone.

“So this is why I didn’t get any calls or messages from you,” Sam said when he finally got to Bucky.

Bucky turned around and smirked at him. “Had I known you were waiting for my call, Wilson--”

“I wasn’t!” Sam answered a little quicker than necessary.

“Right…” Bucky trailed off. “Well, get over here so I can wish you!”

“Alright, bossy,” Sam shook his head before walking over to Bucky and giving him a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, Sam,” Bucky said, hugging him back.

They pulled apart but stayed close together, Sam’s eyes briefly trailing down to Bucky’s lips.

“You gonna kiss me?” Bucky asked.

Sam immediately looked up at him. “What? No!”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you did,” Bucky replied.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Sam laughed and moved away from him. “So you and Sarah plan this?”

“The boys came up with the idea. Sarah called me up last week and asked if I was in. Of course, I was.”

“You came all the way from New York, just to prepare for my surprise birthday party?” Sam asked, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Don’t look too happy. I did it for Sarah and the boys.”

“Right…” Sam trailed off, rolling his eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Nothing does. You’re kinda in my thoughts all the time.”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times but no words came out.

“I’m as the kids say ‘a simp for you’” Bucky snickered at his own terrible joke.

Sam put his hand behind Bucky’s head and pulled him in to kiss him. Bucky seemed surprised at first but then he kissed him back.

When they pulled apart, Sam smiled at Bucky. “Now come on. Time for my terrible Oreo cake.”

“Hey! It’s the best cake out there!” Bucky protested. “And this time I made it myself.” He added, much to Sam’s surprise.

“I didn’t have a death wish on my birthday,” Sam joked.

“Haha hilarious,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m a grade-A comedian!” Sam winked at him.

#Samtember 2021 #Samtember #Submission #Sam Wilson #Captain America #Joaquin Torres #Sarah Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

Freaky Friday.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 2325.

Your moms are amazing. They’re like your best friends. You can tell them anything and you probably know more about their stuff than you’d like. Still, they are moms. And moms don’t always agree with everything that their kids do. They don’t always understand – like really understand – what’s going on in your life or the things you go through as a teen. No matter how hard they try, or how immature one of them might be – cof cof Kara Danvers cof cof -.

Somedays they don’t understand that you’d rather sleep the day away instead of waking up at 7 on a Saturday to go to the farmer’s market with them. Or that you’d rather go out with your girlfriend and cousin instead of playing board games with them on a Friday night. They just don’t understand you as much as you’d like them to.

And that gives you a crazy idea. What if people just felt what others were feeling? What if when people were fighting you could just point a little device at them, so they would all understand each other's intentions and the fight would just stop? What if you could make the world have empathy?

It takes you a while, but you don’t give up. The thought of having just a little device that could bring such a noble feeling into light, it drives you to work nonstop on it.

“Baby, I’m done for the day.” Lena walks in your lab. You’re face-buried into work you don’t even hear her. She makes her way towards you, and you only notice her when she holds your head on both sides and kisses the top of your head. “Hey, baby.” Lena says softly on your head. “Let’s go home.”

“Oh, um, can I meet you back home? I’m not done.” You say, still too focused on what’s in front of you. Lena sighs, looking tired.

“I had such a long day.” She complains, pulling up a chair next to you, and taking off her heels. “I just want to go home, my love. Can’t you finish that tomorrow?”

“Not really.” You put your protection goggles back on and use your welder on the device. “You can leave. I’ll catch up.” You yell, through the noise.

“And how exactly are you getting home, not-Superkid?” She asks with another sigh. You finish closing the shell and you look at her.

“I’ll walk. Take the bus. Have momma come pick me up.”

“Or-” She takes the device off your hands. “You ride back home with me and come back tomorrow after school to finish this.” You open your mouth to argue, but she cuts you off. “Not another option. Just the single one you have. You have to eat, sleep, and do your schoolwork. Come on.”

“See, you’re the reason why I need to finish this device.” You mumble and she raises her eyebrows at you. You reach for the device, and she holds it out of your reach, studying it.

“And what exactly is this?”

“It’s, I don’t really have a name for it yet. But it’s to make other people feel what you’re feeling. An empathizer, if you will.”

“Oh.” Lena narrows her eyes at you. “Are you saying I don’t have empathy for you? So, me caring about your health and rest is not empathy, huh?” You shrug your answer. “How about you not having empathy for me when I say I’m exhausted, and I need to get home right away?”

“I do! That’s why I’m telling you to leave.” You defend yourself.

“Is that so?” She doesn’t look convinced. “Ok, I’m sold. I want you to understand the amount of pain in my back and on my feet right now, so go on. Finish up.”

Ok then. You make a little change here and there, finish building up the structure and no longer than 30 minutes later you have the device ready.

“Ok, ready to feel what I’m feeling?” You ask pointing the device at her.

“Only if you’re ready for back pain.” She agrees, and you press the button.

“Well, I don’t feel anything.” You hear your voice, and you snap your eyes open at that. You didn’t say anything. Oh, no.

“Mom?” You ask and hear Lena’s voice coming out. Oh, no.

“OH, COME ON!” You look at your body getting up from the chair, but you’re just an outsider looking at it from afar. It’s the weirdest feeling you ever felt. You look at your hands, legs, and shoes. Yep, you’re definitely inside Lena’s body right now. “I just came back from being a teen.” She cries out and you flinch.

“It’s ok. It’s not alien tech, I can just undo this.” You grab your device again and look at it, trying to think.

“Well, I mean, it does feel nice to not feel any pain.” She smiles doing a little weird dance.

“You’re being weird.” You laugh at her, because it’s not always that Lena decides to be weird. You like it. Even if it’s actually your body doing the weird dance.

“I am in my daughter’s body, so I think I’m allowed to.” She studies herself, your body, for a few seconds. She looks up to you, clearly confused. “I’m starving.”

“Oh yes. That’s like a permanent feeling. You’ll get used to it.” You wave her off with your hand. It’s true, you’re always hungry. It doesn’t matter how much you eat, five minutes later it’s like you haven’t eaten all day.

“I hate it.” She complains with her hands over the stomach.

“Well, my back is killing me and who wears heels all the time? Would you die if you wore sneakers to work, someday?”

“AHÁ!” She points at you, victoriously. “See, I told you! Aren’t you just dying to get home?”

“Maybe.” You mumble under your breath, and she puts her hands on your shoulders.

“Don’t mumble, baby. I have super hearing. It’s useless.” She smiles, a little too happy to say that, and you sigh. “You know, I would not hate having this body for another day. But go on, change us back. I know you can’t handle the pain.”

“Excuse me?” You furrow your eyebrows at the challenge. “You think I can’t go a day looking this pretty?” You point at her face -that is yours now- and you see her cheeks getting flushed at the compliment. “As if! You’re the one who can’t handle being me.”

“Being a young superhero whose only job is to go to school? Baby, please. I would kill to be you.” Lena says and it’s out of your mouth before you can even think twice.

“Well, well, well. It looks like you got yourself a bet.” You raise your hand at her, looking smug about it. No way in hell Lena can be you. Not even for a day. “First one to quit has to say that the other one has a harder life and try to make it easier, every time possible.”

“Deal.”

“Wait.” You don’t hold her hand yet. “For it to be actually fair, you have to live my actual life.” She raises one eyebrow at that. “You have to be Superkid.”

“I thought Superkid didn’t exist anymore.”

“Yeah, well. I almost died three hundred times when I was in the body you’re in now. We have to put that into consideration for it to be fair, don’t we?” It’s your time to raise an eyebrow, and you give her a little smirk. Now you’ve got her, she won’t say yes to being a superhero.

“Still.” Lena has her hand up and you hold it. “You’ve got yourself a deal, babygirl. Let’s see you try to survive L Corp with no powers at all.”

“Let’s see you try to survive high school while being a Luthor.” You give her a wicked smile to which she almost shivers.

“Are we telling Kara?”

“Yes, please. I’m not kissing her. That would be gross.”

“Oh, I-I didn’t think this through.” You can see Lena’s mind wheels spinning while she considers the bet and what she’s giving up on.

“Too late. Our deal is on.” You grab her car keys with a smile. “Let’s go home. I need to put my feet up.”

“Oh, you’re not lasting a day.” She mumbles while leaving the lab, and you look back at her confused.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Nevermind.” You study her face turning into a devilish smile when she realizes she can get away with lots of stuff by using her powers.

“Ok, don’t abuse it now.” You complain, getting into the elevator to go to the car. It’s only when you’re staring at Lena’s car with the keys in your hands, that it hits you. “Wait, I-I don’t really know how to drive in the city.”

“And I can’t drive with your body because you don’t have a driver’s license.” Lena says and you agree with your head. “Call your momma.”

You just text her that you need a ride, and less than five minutes later she lands next to both of you in the parking lot.

“Oh, hey love.” Kara comes closer ready to kiss you, and you panic so hard the only thing you can do it’s to yell after pushing her face away from yours.

“GROSS! Get off of me.” You duck, making Kara furrow her brows at you.

“What did I do?” You look at your momma, who looks so offended that she might cry because Lena refused to give her a kiss. Poor Kara.

“Explain it to her! You’re me!” Lena says -in your body- making Kara even more confused.

“What is happening?”

“I’m her and she’s me.” You try. She still doesn’t get it, that’s when it comes to you. “We’re Freaking Friday right now.”

“WHAT!” Kara yells in shock. “But that’s our thing!”

“How is that our thing? We never once Freaked Friday before.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Lena asks, interrupting your conversation with Kara. “It’s not even Friday.”

“What? No, it’s-” You look at her, confused. “It’s Freaky Friday.”

“Yeah, well, what the hell is Freaky Friday, then?” Lena asks and Kara looks back at her in shock.

“Yep, you two are definitely switched right now.” She smiles and you agree with your head giving her the car keys.

You make your way to the backseat and stare at Lena for a second while you two wonder what to do.

“You go-”

“I’ll sit-”

“Cool.” You go to the front seat with a smile. “I’m the grown-up now.”

“Yes, you are!” Kara agrees, messing with your hair, and it’s Lena who responds.

“Hey, don’t do that. You know my hair is temperamental.” She complains and Kara looks at both of you a couple of times.

“Oh, boy. This is gonna be fun.” She says looking anything but excited about this. “So, how exactly did this happen? Did you guys look into each other's eyes and say, ‘I wish I were you’?”

“No, because that’s ridiculous.” You answer and Kara looks at you next to her, looking very stung by what you said. “I made a device so you could feel what the other person was feeling. It wasn’t intentional for us to literally change bodies, but I guess that was the only way I could feel this terrible back pain mom was feeling.”

“Right. And for me to be starving all the time.” Lena complains in the back. “Can we stop to get some food before going home?”

You smile wickedly at yourself before saying, “We have food at home-” Then you turn your face to her with a playful smile. “Babygirl.”

“Ugh.” Lena rolls her eyes at you. “I didn’t know that’s how you were feeling, ok?”

“See.” You look at Kara. “It’s already working!”

“I see.” She shakes her head agreeing. “And you couldn’t undo it?”

“Actually, I could’ve if I had tried. But there’s a bet going on here, so-”

“So, you two are betting to see who lasts longer?” Kara asks, getting agreeable nods and hums from both of you. She looks to the backseat furrowing her brows at Lena. “And I’ll have to suffer and not kiss you for as long as this lasts?”

“Umm, yes.” Lena agrees, touching Kara’s arm. “Don’t worry, honey. Your daughter won’t last a day in my shoes.”

“I will!” You slap Lena’s hand away from Kara’s biceps -because you know what comes next, and it’s your body she’s in-. “I’ll just change your shoes.”

“It’s an expression.” Lena furrows her brows at you.

“And I made a pun with it.” You put your feet up the car’s glove compartment. “Deal with that.”

“Hey, take your feet off of there.”

You don’t miss a beat when you look back at her. “Excuse me? It’s my car, baby. I can put my feet up wherever I want.”

Kara parks outside your house, and you see Lena running inside the house, leaving you and Kara behind. She opens the door fast, and you see the handle coming off on her hand. You and Kara look at each other.

“You know what? This might actually be good for us kryptonians. She’ll see how hard it is to control ourselves sometimes.” Kara says and you agree with your head.

“I heard that!” Lena yells from inside the house. “I’ll learn how to use the powers; you’ll see.”

You walk inside the house and watch her devouring an entire sandwich in one bite. “I wonder how many times you’ll get grounded before you learn it, though.”

“You’re way too full of yourself.” She narrows her eyes at you, making yet another sandwich. “Let’s wait until tomorrow when you actually have to be me, to see if you’ll still be this smug about this bet.”

“And you’ll have such a fun time in high school tomorrow, babygirl.” You say ironically.

“Oh, boy.”

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert

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beggingwolf · 3 years

Note

sidgeno: soulmate AU + erotic dreams

Sid's standing at a river.

He thinks it's a river. It feels half-formed. He can feel the rumble of the water under his feet. If he doesn't move, the flash flood is going to swell to his soles, ankles, knees, and sweep him away.

"Beautiful," he hears. It doesn't sound right. The word twists in his ears, and a large hand wraps around his elbow, pulling him a step back up onto the bank. "Careful."

Sid wakes up with a gasp. Across the room, the little blue S on his wall has fallen to the floor with a crack. It's his last night at home before he ships out to Minnesota. He'd heard his mom crying after Taylor had gone to bed.

Sid reaches up to touch his elbow. He can still feel the ghostly touch, heavy and strong.

Sid stays up for another hour, thinking it over. Replaying the sound of beautiful over and over again, even though that's not how it sounded in the dream.

He closes his eyes. He tries to say goodbye to home. He tries to push off the dream; he doesn't have the time to think about it, not now, not when—

"Beautiful," Sid hears. He lets out a shuddering breath. The hands are everywhere. There's a heavy weight between his legs. There's pressure on his stomach, on his chest. A mouth pressing to his neck. He needs to move. He needs to be touched, he—

The pillow hits his face hard.

"Take it to the showers, Croz!" Duncs groans, his bedsprings creaking as he rolls to turn his back on Sid from across the room.

Sid's face grows hot as he fumbles at his blankets. He slips out of bed, feet hitting the linoleum floor with a loud smack, and he grabs the first article of clothing on the ground—a hoodie, fine, that's fine—before making a break for the hall.

The light of the hallway is blinding, and Sid stumbles to the bathrooms to lock himself in a shower stall and breathe.

His boxers are wet.

Sid shudders on his next inhale. It's been... it's been so long since this has happened, but not like this, never with that voice in his ears or the feeling of a body that's bigger than his covering him so completely.

Sid's been looking at his teammates too much lately. He's been thinking about how tall Matty is, how he's got a wicked smile and a stupid laugh that rivals Sid's own.

"Fuck," Sid whispers to himself. It echoes off the yellowing tile.

Soulmates, Sid learned early, don't account for everything.

His mother told him that she'd had dreams of the Eastern Shore back at the height of the whaling trade. She'd remembered the scent of blubber burning, how his father's clothes would stink of blood and salt after he'd return from a voyage.

She had older ones, too. Ones of living in a cramped house in an old country with too many mouths to feed, spending her days working in a horrible factory and sneaking away to find a sweetheart in a back alley.

Older than that, even: one of his aunts liked to claim she could remember as far back to before electricity was discovered. His mom fondly told her sister she was full of shit, but Sid always wondered.

Then there was his grandmother, who never talked about soulmates at all. She was happy with Kenny, but Sidney knew Kenny was not his grandfather by blood. His grandmother was tight-lipped about it, even when the family was swapping dream-memories with each other like cards over the dinner table.

"Soulmates can mean a lot of things," Sid's uncle had told him out on the patio later. "Sometimes they're just the person that leaves the most scars on you."

Years later, as Sid tries to keep his eyes to himself in the locker room, he finally understands how his love could leave him with more scars than he could count.

It's a gentle touch to his hair. Long fingers playing in the curls. They're too long. They're always too long, it's not presentable, it's not to code, but war is cruel and bloody and Sid's fucking hair is the least of his concerns.

"Morning, beautiful," a low voice rasps to him. The words are tilted like they always are, but Sid understands. He always understands.

He turns, eyes still closed, and reaches out.

Lips connect with his. There's a dusting of pathetic stubble on both of their faces. The dry, cracked lips he's kissing are still the best thing he's ever felt.

"My watch shift's almost over," Sid whispers. His throat is hoarse, because last night he'd—god, he'd taken the whole length down, and it had felt good and powerful and if he died today he'd be okay with it, he thinks. The war has taken so much. At least he had this. "I need to go back."

"Stay," is murmured up against his mouth. The lips move up to press against his forehead, and the hand in his hair tangles in it, pulls him closer, drags him against a strong body, long legs tangling with his own.

He can feel a hardness pressing into his thigh, and he cracks open his eyes.

His head smacks against glass.

"Shit!" Sid snaps, jerking upright as the bus rolls over another curb.

"Sorry, fellas!" the driver calls, and there's an ugly chorus of groans from the Rimouski Oceanic.

"Jesus," Sid grunts, shifting back upright in his seat, yanking his backpack onto his lap. His skull is still rattling from the rude awakening, and he's achingly hard.

It's a small mercy he has the row to himself. He leans back and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his head, and his hip where that stupid fucking Moosehead had laid into him, and his tweaked wrist from two weeks ago in Chicoutimi. The street lamps they drive under flare his eyelids pink and then black, again and again.

As he slows his breaths, the urgency fades out of his bloodstream. He's not hard up for it anymore. He's just sore.

More than the feeling of a heavy cock pressed against his leg, Sid misses the gangly arms that had been wrapped around him. He'd had to make out with a girl at a house party before they'd left for Halifax. The team had gotten too nosy, their teasing of Sid's prudishness tipping from "hilarious novelty" to "prying questions," and Sid had swallowed his anxiety and used it as fuel to find a girl and pull her into a corner in full view of half of the blue line and press his lips to hers.

It had felt deeply wrong.

He tries to keep his breaths even as he thinks about how right his dream had felt, and how that deep, sleep-weary voice sits in his skull like it belongs there.

Sid pulls his goalie pads off. His eye is swollen shut from the puck he took to the face in the second period; it happens once every few months, and it's incentive to be faster. He laughs as the team around him starts cracking open beers. Their captain lights a cigarette and leans back in his stall with a grin. They're on fucking fire, and they're going out on the town tonight.

Sid comes back home drunk. Drunk and happy and dumped unceremoniously on the steps of his Montreal townhome by his teammates, who cheerfully wave at Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate picks Sid up. Sid's roommate peels off his clothes slowly. Sid's roommate leads him to bed, where he tucks himself into the cave he makes out of Sid's chest.

Sid's roommate, who grinds back against Sid. Sid groans. He can't get it up, not like this, and his roommate laughs, a low noise, and tells him in the morning—in the morning they'll have some fun, he'll reward Sid exactly how he deserves.

Sid wakes up alone.

They've lost the Memorial Cup. He's still in London. He's not playing for the Habs in their glory days. He's not playing for anyone right now. The season is over. Tomorrow he gets to go home. He gets to hope the draft goes on.

He feels very small and lonely in his hotel bed.

The night before the draft, Sid dreams about getting fucked.

He's goddamn lucky Jack sleeps harder than the dead. He's goddamn lucky in so many ways, because he feels those big hands push his legs up, his thighs pressing into his stomach. He feels those chapped lips drag against his neck, his chest, his cock. He feels those long hands stretching him open.

He takes every inch. He gets fucked within an inch of his life. He's held down by that powerful body and he's never wanted something this bad, because it's good and right and he wants it more than anything. He's had it before, in another time, and Sid tells himself he'll find it again someday, he has to.

He comes so hard he cries.

Jack's still asleep when Sid wakes up and ducks into the bathroom. He lets the shower rain scalding water down onto him as he wipes the cum off of his hips.

Sid plays hockey in Pittsburgh.

He kisses a man for the first time. It's not his soulmate. He can tell; the man's fingers are too stubby, but he has wide shoulders and a smart smile and it feels good.

It leads to him getting his dick sucked. That's good too.

The dreams don't stop. He's in rural Canada. He's in some ancient country that looks foreign. He's in a busy city center that looks nothing like anywhere Sid has ever been.

He's always wrapped in those long arms, holding those delicate-looking, strong hands.

It's his second season, the morning after another dream—a bad one, where Sid had been old and arthritic and holding a cold hand in his—when Mario looks up from the morning newspaper and tells Sid Malkin will finally be getting in from Los Angeles that evening.

"It's been long enough, he should be out of his contract by the time camp starts," Mario says. "We'll have him over for dinner tonight, I think."

Sid doesn't dress up, but he does put on jeans and combs his hair in the bathroom before Malkin and his translator arrive. He should look presentable, he figures. They want to make him captain. He should make a good impression, especially after all that Malkin's been through.

The doorbell rings, and Sid hustles down the three flights of stairs to get to the foyer.

Malkin's big. Lanky, really, and golden from the California sun. He looks tired but happy, and he's staring at Mario with big eyes and a bigger grin, his chapped lips stretched wide. Sid knows the feeling well.

Malkin turns his gaze to Sid, and something wobbles in Sid's chest.

"Evgeni Malkin," he says, offering a handshake to Sid.

His palm is huge. His fingers are long and handsome.

Sid swallows and takes his hand.

#[sucks teeth] so this was probably more emotional than you were asking for #ficlet

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

Acts Of Service | Elias Pettersson

Summary: When people have different love languages, sometimes it’s hard to understand what the other is trying to say. 4 times Elias shows you he loves you, and the 1 time you tell him. Words: 7.5k (whoops) Note: This concept was very interesting to explore. Also yes, this entire thing was written because of that one picture of Elias in that blue sweater stepping out of the car like a fucking GQ model.

----

(Some time ago)

“Didn’t you say there’s an apartment free in your building?” Brock asked as soon as you answered the phone, forgoing the “hello”.

“Hello, Brock, my very good friend, how nice to talk to you! How are you doing?” you deadpanned.

At least he had the decency to sound ashamed. “Ah, yes, hi. Sorry. I’m just in a hurry and it’s important.”

You frowned. “Why? Are you looking to move?”

“No.” Brock laughed. “Stetch would kill me. No, it’s about the rookie. Petey? I told you about him. Swedish, quiet, best fucking hands in the league.”

Yes. Brock had told you about the rookie, although you still thought it dumb to call him that. Brock was basically still a rookie himself.

“What does that have to do with my apartment building?”

“He said no to having a billet family but everyone on the team thinks it’d be good for him to have someone to kinda look out for him a bit. He’s never been to Canada before this, you know, and he’s never lived on his own either. His English isn’t that great and everything is new for him. And since you’re such a caring, loving person, we thought…”

“You thought I could babysit him?” you finished for Brock.

“It’s not babysitting. Just, being friendly if he needs anything. Obviously we’re there for that too, but it’d be nice to have you so close by.”

Close by would be an understatement: the free apartment was across the hall from yours.

You weren’t sure if this sounded like something that you would necessarily want to do, but you did feel a bit sorry for Elias: you’d met him at a team thing earlier that week and he’d looked completely lost in the midst of all the Canadian hockey slang that you barely managed to follow, even after having been friends with Brock for years. He mostly kept to Eagle, spoke in Swedish, and his eyes flickered nervously across the room whenever anyone else approached him.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to my landlord. But you owe me, Blondie.”

Brock was happy enough that he didn’t even call you out on the nickname.

“Have I told you lately how much of a lifesaver you are?” You lean across your desk, resting your chin in your hands. Elias looks mildly amused as he hands you the papers.

“Nearly every day,” he says, “but then I save your life every day, so that seems fair.”

You grab the papers from his hands.

“You’re a lifesaver and the love of my life, Petey.”

You think back to when Elias just moved into your apartment building, only because Brock thought he needed someone to look after him. You could laugh, now, thinking about how wrong he’d been.

Elias is the most self-sufficient, independent person you know. You don’t think he’s ever needed anything from anyone. Like in hockey, where he can make the play and score the goal all at the same time, Elias has his life together.

Unlike you.

Despite the fact that Elias hadn’t needed much help from you, you had become very fast friends. His quick witted sarcasm always managed to make you laugh and he liked how upfront and honest you were with him about things. It was easy, too, to spend time together. With him living just across the hall, you found yourself wandering to his apartment whenever you were bored, and he showed up at yours often when he didn’t feel like cooking.

Just because he could cook, didn’t mean he always wanted to.

And ever since the two of you had become friends, Elias had your back. When you needed someone to water your plants, or feed your cat Puck – Brock had named him – or, apparently, bring you the important work papers that you forgot at home after having worked on them all weekend.

You groan as you flick through the papers. “I thought I was going to die. Without these I can’t finish my presentation.”

“When is it?” Elias asks, eyes searching behind you. You know he’s looking out for your asshole of a boss, who will use any excuse to yell at you, especially the unannounced visit of a friend.

“Tomorrow. I got all the content in these papers here, but I still have to make the PowerPoint.” You sigh. “It’s still so much work.”

“Oh.” Elias’ face lights up. “Almost forgot. Brought you this.” Triumphantly, he reaches down and comes up with a paper bag from your favorite coffee shop.

The words fall off your lips in a gasp. “You didn’t!”

“Strawberry scone and a large caramel macchiato with soy milk.” Elias grins. “I also got you a chocolate chip cookie for later.”

“Marry me,” you proclaim, as you make grabby hands for the bag. The coffee is precisely what you need and your mouth is already watering at the idea of the food.

“Get me a ring, then,” Elias jokes, as he starts getting up from the chair.

Something tightens in your stomach, so you quickly take a bite of the scone: anything to push those feelings to the side. It works a little, and at the very least it tastes amazing.

You’re just friends. If you were gonna be anything more, Elias would’ve made a move already. Or, if you’d been brave enough, you would’ve: but he’s never said anything to make you think he’s interested and quite frankly, you’re not that brave.

“Thank you,” you say, mouth still full of scone, and Elias wrinkles his nose at that as you knew he would.

“I’m going to the store now,” he says, “anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Wine?” you ask, hopeful. “I’m gonna need it after today.”

Elias rolls his eyes at you, but when you come home after the most grueling day at work there’s a bottle of rosé sitting in your fridge, next to a bag full of your favorite Thai take out food.

Love you, you quickly text Elias, even though you know he can’t answer because the game is about to start.

You take some time showering and putting on comfortable clothes, then situate yourself on the couch and put on the game. It has already begun, and you know it’s not gonna be an easy one, against the Bruins.

It’s not until the first intermission, when you check your phone, that you see there’s a reply from Elias waiting for you.

It’s just a simple heart emoji, but it makes your heart race anyway.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can barely hear you.” Fiona’s tone is disapproving, and you pull your mouth away from where you’d pressed it into your arm to scream.

“I said, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

She laughs. “It’s just a car, Y/N.”

You don’t necessarily like your job, but Fiona is one of the reasons you’re still putting up with it. She’s not just a colleague anymore, slowly turning into a friend and someone you confide into about everything – even about your Elias problem – and you love her, but sometimes you could murder her.

“It’s not just a car,” you bite. “It’s my only mode of transportation, because you know how much I hate taking the bus, and it’s broken, and I probably can’t even afford to get it fixed. And now I have to walk home, and it’s raining.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Fiona admits.

After a long day at work, you couldn’t wait to get home and watch The Bachelor until you fell asleep, your cat in your lap. However, when you finally got away from the office and stepped into your car, it was clear the universe had different plans.

It didn’t start.

After trying approximately 15 times, you’d screamed, nearly cried, hit the steering wheel, and then went back inside to scream and cry a little more at Fiona’s desk.

“I just wanna go home, Fi.” You know you sound miserable, but you honestly can’t help it. Taking the bus always heightens your anxiety, so you avoid it at all costs: however, walking home in this pouring rain doesn’t seem like much fun either.

And Fiona can’t even bring you home, because she takes the bus to work like a normal person.

“There’s a simple solution to this, you know,” Fiona says. She starts to organize the papers on her desk, a clear sign that she’s getting ready to leave the office as well. “You could just call…”

“No,” you interrupt her, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “I can’t call Elias. He’s got the boys over today and I won’t interrupt his fun with my misery. Besides, he does too much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, “but when he hears that you were stuck here and didn’t call him…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Elias would be furious.

One time, you were on a night out when you got a little too tipsy and didn’t realize your phone had died. By the time you noticed, all your friends had already jumped in their respective Ubers, but you had been too busy chatting with some girl you didn’t know to order yours, and now you couldn’t because you didn’t have a phone.

You knew you could’ve asked any random person to order you an Uber, or at least to borrow their phone to call Elias – it’s not like you didn’t know his number by heart – but that felt like too much. It had been 3 am and he had a game the next day, so you decided to walk home.

When he found out the next day, he got so mad he didn’t talk to you for 4 days. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and just sat on his couch pouting at him until he spoke to you again.

“Something could’ve happened,” he’d muttered, explaining to you why he got mad in the first place. “And I’m your best friend, and you should know me enough to know that I would much rather you wake me up than you walk home alone.”

You did know that, and he was your best friend, and you’d promised him you’d never do it again.

It’s only that promise, that causes you to reach for your phone.

“I’m texting him, but if he’s busy, I’m walking,” you tell Fiona stubbornly. She ignores you, which is probably fair enough.

Hey, you busy right now? Are the guys still there?

The answer comes right away. What’s wrong?

Damn, he knows you too well. You quickly explain the situation and before you know it, Elias is on his way to come get you, and Fiona is bidding you goodbye after you promise her you’re fine on your own for the twenty minutes it’s gonna take Elias to get there.

You’re just checking your email on your phone when you hear the bell at the front door.

“I’m coming!” you call out. You hurry to grab your bags and then walk quickly to the door, where Elias is standing with his car keys between his fingers.

“So Bella finally gave up, huh?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his face. He always teases you with the fact that you named your car.

“Yes, and I know you told me,” you sigh, and it’s clear that he immediately – and correctly – reads your mood.

Without a word, he opens his arms, and you gratefully fall into them, hugging him tightly to your body. There’s very little in the world that brings you more comfort than one of Elias’ hugs: although being on Elias’ couch wearing one of his old hoodies watching some stupid reality show might come close.

“Let’s go home,” Elias finally mumbles, and he holds out an umbrella when he lets you go.

It’s raining really hard, and you know he has to park his car a little bit away because there’s no parking in front of your office, so you take it.

“You could’ve just called, I would’ve ran out,” you tell him sternly, but he shrugs.

“But then how would you have gotten the umbrella?”

You would tell him you’re not made of sugar, but as soon as you step outside the rain clatters loudly against the fabric of the umbrella and you realize you would’ve really, really hated to not have it, so you stay quiet.

Instead, you walk after him as he runs to his car and opens the passenger door for you. It’s still running, and the heater is on: only then do you realize you’re quite cold.

This morning they said it would be nice outside, so you didn’t bother to take a coat.

It’s quiet in the car for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, and combined with the soft music that is playing on the radio it lulls you into a false sense of comfort.

Until you realize something.

“Oh God,” you groan, “I’m gonna have to call someone to tow Bella to a mechanic.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Well, you could just leave her there.”

Normally you would’ve at least playfully punched his arm for the sarcastic tone in his voice, but right now you’re too busy freaking out.

“And how am I gonna get to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare say you’ll bring me cause I know you’ve got morning practice and it’s super out of your way. Fuck, why did this have to happen to me?”

You let your head fall against the window. The glass is cold against your cheek and it’s enough to stop the spiraling in your brain at least for a second.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice has lost all sarcastic edge. It’s gentle now, and he’s speaking low as if not to startle you. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll call the tow truck and the mechanic and get your car fixed. And Brock lives close enough that he can take me to and from practice and you can just take my car to work.”

It’s… a reasonable solution, but once again something that Elias has to go out of his way for, even just a little bit, and you feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

“Okay,” you answer, the stress already ebbing away. “Thank you. You’re the best.” You reach out and place your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elias mumbles something incoherent. You think you see some color on his cheeks, but surely that’s just because the heater is on, because there’s no way he’s blushing over something you said.

You turn off the heater, and let your thoughts wander as Elias drives you home.

Traveling is fun, but traveling for work is instantly a lot less fun. You really don’t know how Elias does it.

You’re feeling run down and jetlagged when you come back from your work trip, which is ridiculous cause you flew to Toronto, not to freaking Europe. But it’s late at night and the three days you were away were so busy you can barely remember sleeping at all.

Fiona slept on the plane, so she looks a little more alive than you when your feet touch the ground at Vancouver airport.

“Is Elias coming to pick you up?” Fiona asks, as you’re both walking through the gate.

You shake your head. “I’m sure he would’ve insisted if he could, but he’s in California right now. They played the Kings tonight and they’re playing the Sharks the day after tomorrow.”

“I wish I was in California,” Fiona says wistfully. It’s cold and wet in Vancouver and it wasn’t much better in Toronto. The tiredness doesn’t help: it feels as if the cold of the night is slowly creeping into your bones.

“Come on then, I’ll drop you off.” You thank Fiona and follow her to her car. Normally you wouldn’t have minded taking an Uber, but right now you just wanna get to bed as soon as possible.

“If I fall asleep, just let me sleep here,” you mumble, resting your head back against the head rest. Fiona laughs as she starts the car.

“No way, you’ll freeze to death.” She squints outside. “Do you think it’s gonna rain?”

“It always rains,” you say, despite the fact that it’s not raining at the moment.

Fiona turns onto the highway. “So, are you finally gonna put up that bookcase you bought?”

Involuntarily, you groan. “Stop, don’t remind me.”

Your old bookcase is big and ugly, and it has been a thorn in your eye ever since you moved in. The person that lived there before you left it there, and you only kept it because you couldn’t really afford not to.

Four weeks ago, you finally allowed yourself to buy a new, prettier bookcase.

But…

“It’s just so big,” you whine, repeating the excuses you’ve been giving Elias every single time he raises a judgmental eyebrow at the old bookcase still standing in your living room. “It’s gonna take forever to take it apart and then it’s gonna take me even longer to somehow get it all downstairs and get rid of it.”

“And then you have to build the new one,” Fiona nods understandingly. “And you’re not good with furniture.”

“Hey,” you protest, but it’s weak. You’re not good with furniture, which was proven when you tried to help Fiona move in and didn’t manage to help her put together anything at all. Instead she ended up with a table with three legs.

You even tried to read the manual, but it’s just not your forte.

“I’ll do it,” you add, “I promise you I will. Just, maybe not this weekend…”

Fiona laughs, but she doesn’t call you out on the fact that it probably won’t happen during the week either.

Finally, you arrive at your building. You can’t wait to go to bed, and you thank Fiona multiple times before dragging your luggage upstairs. When you open the door to your apartment, Puck comes running up to you, meowing and weaving between your legs.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you tell the cat sternly. “Petey sent me many pictures of you sleeping in his lap and I know he feeds you chicken when he thinks I won’t notice, so you got spoiled this week.”

You lovingly scratch Puck’s ears, before flicking on the light and kicking the door behind you in the lock.

Instantly, you notice the difference.

Your apartment isn’t big: real estate in Vancouver isn’t cheap and your job isn’t great. You got this place mostly for the location, and you like the big windows in the apartment and how it manages to get in light even during the darkest of winter days.

One corner of your living room, however, was always darker than the others. The bookcase took away the entirety of the white wall, and it created a dim lit, sad looking corner.

Now, it’s open and bright, as your new bookcase stands proudly in its place.

There’s only one person who would’ve done that.

The phone rings a few times, but you know the Kings game ended a while ago so you let it ring. After a while, Elias picks up.

“Sorry for the background noise,” is the first thing he says. “We’re on the plane. Taking off in a few minutes, probably.”

In the background, you hear some yelling. Probably Jake.

“You put up my bookcase,” you blurt out, ignoring Elias’ statement. “You put it up and all the books are in it and the other one is gone.”

Elias sounds a little smug when he answers. “Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.”

“Thank you.” To your own horror, you can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Elias, seriously…”

“It’s nothing.” You can hear Elias’ smile even over the phone: you know everyone always makes fun of his deadpan tone when he talks to media but with his friends, his voice always betrays everything he’s feeling. “I know you were worried about it, and I know how much you hated that old one.” He laughs. “I get why now, by the way. It took me and Brock like four hours to get that thing out.”

“Brock helped too?”

“He did.” Elias is silent for a while, but in the background you hear another voice. “Brock says to tell you that I forced him. But that’s not entirely true.”

Entirely. You know Elias definitely did force him.

“Tell him thank you too.”

“He says you’re welcome,” Elias says, quick enough that it makes you think Brock didn’t say that at all. “We’re about to take off so I have to put my phone on airplane mode. But call me tomorrow okay? I wanna hear about your work trip.”

“Okay.” For some reason, you can still feel the lump in your throat. You didn’t notice it momentarily, while you were focused on Elias’ and Brock’s bickering, but now it’s back, and with a vengeance.

Fuck. You just…

“I miss you.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself and if anyone would ask, you would blame the exhaustion and the fact that Elias can’t see how wet your eyes are over the phone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he answers softly, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes you think he knows about the tears, anyway. “And when I am, we’re gonna take a whole night to eat food and stare at that bookcase, because it needs to be appreciated after the effort I had to put in to build it.”

You laugh before quietly saying goodbye to Elias and hanging up the phone.

In the kitchen, Puck sits in front of the fridge. When you open it there’s a pan with chicken.

For Puck the note next to it says, and you send Elias a picture of Puck with his chicken.

“He spoils you,” you tell your cat. You decide to ignore the fact that he kinda spoils you, too.

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the smell of garlic.

After yet another shitty day at work, you can already feel the lump in your throat building again. You didn’t even tell him, this time. In fact, you carefully avoided his texts because you knew he’d clock that something was wrong.

Fuck. That’s probably where you went wrong in the first place; usually you never ignored Elias’ texts.

“Hello?” you call out into your own apartment.

There’s soft music playing and there’s light coming from the living room, but the amazing smell that tickles your senses is clearly coming from the kitchen, so that’s where you go.

Elias is standing at your kitchen counter, chopping a carrot.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling your way. “I’m making dinner.”

It’s almost too much, how domestic it looks. And how right: like he belongs there in your space, waiting for you to come home.

Suddenly there’s the overwhelming urge to go towards him, so you do. His arm immediately lifts, creating space for you in the crook of his body, and you slip under his arm easily.

“How did you know?” you mumble into the fabric of his worn Canucks hoodie. It smells like him, a scent that reminds you of home as much as your mother’s signature dish.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” Elias hums. His arm tightens around your body. “So I figured you could use some good food and a bath.” His head motions towards the general direction of the bathroom. “I’m running it as we speak.”

God. You love him.

It hits you, then. You knew you had a crush on him, knew you wanted to kiss him and hold his hand and feel his hands on you. But it’s more than that, now.

It’s the realization that you want to share everything with him. The ups and the downs. The bad nights and the bright mornings. You want him in your kitchen, but more than that, you want it to be his kitchen, too.

Fuck. You’re so royally screwed.

Because he does this, and he does so much for you, but he’s never said anything, anything at all, to indicate that he wants that. Or has even considered it, thought about it.

Maybe it’s never even crossed his mind. Maybe he takes care of you like he would take care of a sister.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is gentle as it pulls you out of your thoughts, back down to earth. “You’re shaking. Go take a bath, and I’ll finish dinner, and then we’ll watch How I Met Your Mother. I wanted to watch the next episode but I waited for you.” His grin is a little lopsided. “Isn’t that chivalrous of me?”

It is, and normally you would tease him for it, but you can’t really think or speak, so you just nod.

“There’s wine in the fridge, if you want a glass,” Elias says. He holds out a wine glass, already waiting for you on the counter.

And who cares that it’s only a Tuesday: you deserve it, damn it, so you open the fridge to find the wine.

You’re met with more than just that.

“You bought groceries?” you ask, your eyes traveling through your fridge. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in like a week, and when you left for work this morning the fridge was basically empty. Now it’s so full you wonder how you’re gonna close the door.

“How else was I gonna cook anything? You only had cat food left,” Elias tuts. You’re not surprised to find Puck at Elias’ feet, waiting for him to inevitably slip him some human food.

“Did you get…”

“Your coconut yoghurt? Yes.”

He did, and he got basically all your staples, and nothing you wouldn’t buy yourself.

“Honestly,” you say, as you finally reach for the bottle and pull your head out of the fridge. “I don’t know what to say, Petey. Thank you. I had such a sucky day and now it’s already endlessly better.”

This time you know you’re not imagining the flush on Elias’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he says. “You should go take that bath before it goes cold.”

You want to say more: to tell him time and time again how amazing he is, how much he means to you, how thankful you are. But you know once you start, you can’t be trusted to not say the one thing you don’t think he wants to hear.

So you say nothing, and simply go to take your bath.

But you think about it.

You think about it all throughout Christmas, where you don’t see Elias at all. You think about it during NYE, when you get a drunk SnapChat from Elias with his brother, right at midnight.

At least, you figure, he’s not kissing any girls.

You’re not kissing any boys, either. You’re at a NYE party with Fiona and it’s fun, it is, but it’s not the same as it would be if Elias wasn’t all the way in Sweden.

You miss him like a limb, and you know it’s not fair because he rarely gets time to go home to Sweden and he deserves that time with his family, but you can’t say you didn’t wish his time off ended already.

When it finally does, it’s not Elias you see first. Troy is throwing a late New Years party, just to welcome everyone back to Vancouver as they get ready to start the season back up, and when you arrive at his house it’s early enough in the evening that there’s only a handful of people there.

“Y/N!” Brock calls out, opening his arms to give you a big hug as you enter. “Missed you!”

You laugh. “Get off of me, you giant. I’m gonna drop the wine.”

“Not the wine,” Troy says dramatically, tearing it out of your hands. His eyes are sparkling when he thanks and hugs you, and then Brock is ushering you into the living room, where Jake is talking with Quinn.

Or talking at Quinn. To be honest, you never really know when Quinn is paying attention.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaims, much like Brock had. “I’m glad you’re here, we need your input on something.”

“Okay?” you ask, curiosity instantly taking over. Whenever Jake and Brock get together, it promises to be an interesting evening.

“We’re trying to decide Brock’s love language.”

It’s sudden enough that you laugh. “His what?”

“Love language,” Jake explains. “Like, how he shows people he loves them. He says it’s quality time, but I think it could be physical touch. He’s always touching people.”

“Jake is deflecting because his love language is physical touch,” Brock scowls. “I think I know my own love language, Tuna.”

“Hold on.” Unfortunately, you have to press the pause button on their discussion. “What options do we have?”

You’ve got no idea where they got this from, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re always down to share your opinion on stupid stuff with your favorite boys.

“There’s gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and…” Brock pauses, and you can nearly see the wheels in his head turning.

“Acts of service,” Quinn offers, which proves that he was actually paying attention.

“Mine is physical touch,” Jake says determinedly. “When I care about someone, I always wanna be touching them, and when I’m in love with someone that’s like twenty times worse.”

“Poor girl,” Quinn mutters, and the conversation gets paused in order for Jake to put Quinn in a headlock.

“I think yours is quality time, actually,” you tell Brock when Jake is done murdering the rookie. “Your ex was always on her phone during your date nights and I remember it drove you crazy.”

“See,” Brock says proudly. “Quality time baby. If I’m there I’m there.”

“What about yours, Huggy?” Jake asks. “Physical touch would make sense, since you’re called Huggy.”

“I’m not called Huggy,” Quinn deadpans. His face is devoid of any emotion, but you know him well enough to recognize the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He reminds you of Elias, when he does that. “And if we were going by nicknames your love language would be fishing.”

Everyone cracks up on that, and then the doorbell rings and Bo arrives.

The topic gets put on hold, then, because Bo is instantly talking about Gunnar’s first Christmas and Brock is talking about becoming an uncle again and you feel warm and happy on the couch with your wine, squeezed between Brock and Troy.

Until, a little later, you realize someone is missing.

“Where’s Petey?” you ask Troy. “Isn’t he coming?”

Troy shrugs. “Should do. But you never know with Pete.”

It’s not entirely true: if Elias promises he’ll be there, he will be there. But, to be fair, he usually doesn’t promise that to anyone but you, and you hadn’t asked him to come, this time.

You figured he just would.

“What about Petey’s love language?” Brock asks idly, not knowing he’s opening Pandora’s box for you. “Definitely not words of affirmation, huh.”

Troy laughs.

“Nah, Petey’s an acts of service guy. He’s always doing shit for Y/N.”

You would protest if you trusted your voice not to shake. As it is, you stay quiet and hope the flush on your cheeks gets mistaken for a wine flush, and not an Elias flush.

Brock brightens. “Oh, yeah! Getting her car fixed, making dinner, building her stupid bookshelf, feeding her cat… He is a typical acts of service guy.” He bumps against your shoulder playfully. “I hope you appreciate his showing of love, Y/N. He rarely does that shit for me.”

Troy snorts. “That’s cause he’s not in love with you, Boes.”

“He’s not in love with me either!” you squeak, unable to stay quiet any longer. You know if you don’t derail this trail of thought very soon, it’s gonna end badly for you.

Both Troy and Brock look unimpressed, at that statement.

“Yes, he is,” Brock says slowly, as if explaining something to an unruly child. “He drops whatever he has going on to do small things that make your life easier. That’s literally the same as him screaming I’m in love with you from the highest rooftop in Vancouver.”

“He’s not like you,” Troy continues, a little more gentle. “When people have different love languages, they don’t always understand what the other is trying to say. Your love language is words of affirmation. You’re always telling Petey how amazing he is. But he doesn’t see that as a declaration of love, or whatever. He thinks you tell everyone that they’re amazing.”

You do, to be fair, but not as often as you tell Elias. Because he’s…

Well. Amazing would be an understatement, actually. He’s everything to you.

Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. Suddenly, you start wondering if there’s more to his acts of service than plain friendship, or him being a good guy.

It’s not like he does stuff like that for all his friends. He helps them out, sure, but he always goes above and beyond for you, usually not even needing to be asked.

But he’s not in love with you, surely? He hasn’t said anything…

But maybe words aren’t his thing. Not like they are yours: the way you can’t stop yourself from gushing into Elias’ ear even when you know you should stop.

What if Brock and Troy are right?

You don’t get much time to think it through, because that’s when Elias finally appears in Troy’s living room, looking endlessly cool in his blue sweater, wearing his glasses. He’s sending death glares at Jake, who wolf whistles from the corner, but then his eyes meet yours and they soften.

“Hi there,” he smiles, reaching out to you. You immediately jump up and launch yourself at him, any previous conversation about the two of you momentarily forgotten as you curl your body into his, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Missed you,” you hum into his shoulder, and you’re rewarded with a grin you can feel against the skin of your neck.

“Are you sure hers isn’t physical touch?” you hear Brock ponder, and you would flip him off if you could be bothered.

You can’t. All you can be bothered doing is plastering yourself to Elias’ side and not leaving him alone even for a second, the rest of the night.

It works at least for a while, until he asks: “Do you want another drink?”

“I’ll go with you,” you say, not willing to part with him yet, and you ignore the knowing look Brock shoots you as the two of you find your way to the kitchen.

Elias immediately goes for the wine, because he knows you better than anyone else.

“I asked my dad about the job,” Elias mentions casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “He thinks he can get you an interview.”

“Wait, what?”

Suddenly your heart is ticking in your throat. Before he left for Sweden, Elias had mentioned that his dad knows a guy who works for a similar company as you’re working for now: apart from the shitty boss you have or the ridiculous low salary you get paid. It’s your job, but better, and Elias promised you he’d get his dad to ask if there were any open positions.

There were. And you sent in your application not thinking there was gonna come much from it, but now…

Something warm washes through your chest, like your heart grew three sizes. Of course he asked, of course he made it happen. Looking out for you, always and at any time, from any distance.

“It’s not a done deal,” Elias warns, oblivious to your mental breakdown. “But he said he thinks they’ll like you and he’ll put in a good word for you.”

You squeal and throw yourself in his direction once again. Elias laughs as he catches you, fingers curling in your hair where your face is pressed against his chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“It’s about time you get rid of that dumb job.” You can hear the frown in Elias’ voice. “They don’t take good care of you at all, it’s not good for you.” The distaste is obvious and it’s adorable. You pull away.

“I don’t need them to,” you say, carefully. You can still hear Brock’s words in your voice, and you figure it’s worth a try, probably. “Because you’re always there to take care of me.”

Elias’ cheeks darken substantially.

“I mean it when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you, Elias.”

“You’d be fine,” Elias waves away the compliment as you figured he would. But this time you’re not backing down.

“Maybe I would be. But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

They say when you really love a person, you’ve got to show them. But you’ve never really known how to do that, instead you always use your words to tell them. But it seems like Elias isn’t believing you, not even now.

And you’ve got to fix that.

It’s not until you’re in Elias’ car on the way back home that you bring it up again. The party wasn’t really the time and place, but the conversation with Brock and the guys has been nagging in the back of your mind since it happened.

If you didn’t realize Elias’ acts of service meant something, maybe he doesn’t realize your words of affirmation mean something. And even if it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you – you’re really not that sure about that – you need him to at least know how much you appreciate him.

“You know I’m always there for you, right?” you start, carefully breaking the silence in the car. Elias shoots you a glance from behind the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Like, even if I’m maybe not as good as you are at realizing what you need me to do, if there’s ever anything I can do to help make your life a little easier or better I wanna do it. I’d do anything for you.”

It’s too honest, probably, and too much all at the same time. But Elias doesn’t look that surprised. In fact, there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You make my life better by just being you, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wonder how you’re gonna get through this conversation. But it’s one that needs to be held, so you press on.

“What is your love language, Elias?”

Now he frowns. “Have you been talking to Brock?”

Of course Brock talked to Elias before he talked to you. The traitor.

You decide to ignore that, for now. You’ll talk to Brock later.

“You know my love language is words of affirmation, right?”

Elias shrugs. “Brock did say that, but I didn’t know what you thought it was.”

“And yours is acts of service,” you hazard a guess. You keep your eyes firmly on Elias’ face, which is the only reason you catch the slight change in his expression.

Like a wall, crossing over his features. He’s trying to protect himself, although you have no idea why. Does he not get where you’re going with this?

“I can tune it down if you want me to,” he says, a little grumpily. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, stubbornly refusing to look your way.

And oh God, he’s truly not getting it, and this is going the exact opposite way you want it to go.

Troy did say that when people’s love languages don’t match, they don’t understand what the other is trying to say. But you honestly don’t know how you can make it any more clear to Elias.

Well, except…

“I love you,” you blurt out. “Like, in love with you love you.”

The words ring loudly in the quiet car. For a second, nothing about Elias’ expression, almost like he didn’t hear you. You can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Then, he pulls over the car.

It comes to a stop at the side of the road, two wheels on the pavement and two still on the road. It is, objectively, not super safe, but it’s also 3am and there’s no other cars to be seen. Very carefully, without looking at you still, Elias turns on the hazard lights.

And then finally, finally, he turns to you and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting it but it doesn’t really matter: it’s like your heart and head both light on fire, and everything outside of the car simply disappears. It’s just you and Elias, and his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

It feels right. Like it was always meant to end up like this.

After what feels like ages, he pulls away. He’s smiling, and his eyes are bright blue in the dark car.

“I thought you said those kinda things to everyone,” he admits, quietly. His thumb is rubbing your side, his eyes fixed on that spot. Almost as if he can’t really believe he’s allowed to do that.

You don’t want him to ever do anything else.

“I thought you did those kinda things for everyone,” you shoot back.

Elias raises one eyebrow. “That bookcase weighed at least 300 pounds.”

You can’t help it: giggles are escaping your lips and suddenly you’re both laughing. The tension in the car dissipates instantly, and suddenly it’s just Elias again, your best friend.

Your best friend that you’re now allowed to kiss. So you lean in and press your lips against his again.

After all, kissing is a love language you think everyone understands.

(+2)

“I’m home!” Elias’ voice sounds through the empty apartment, and you immediately leave your spot behind the kitchen counter to run into the hallway.

With a squeal, you fly towards him, and he catches you easily as you knew he would.

“Hey, babe,” he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair before returning the hug fully. “Is that my sweater?”

“Maybe,” you admit, as Elias’ hands make their way under his own blue sweater, that you definitely steal from him most evenings. “Missed you. And I’m very proud of you.”

“I missed you too,” he answers. “Watched the game?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it with your face still buried in his shoulder. “A hat trick, huh? I think that needs to be celebrated.”

“Oh?” Elias pulls away then, one eyebrow raised and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“Not like that,” you scold him, lightly punching his arm. “Or, maybe like that. But first, I made Kalops.”

At the mention of his favorite Swedish food, Elias’ face lights up. A while ago, you asked his mom for her recipe and it’s one of the only Swedish dishes you can make, but you make it well.

“Also,” you continue, as you take his hand and start leading him towards the kitchen, so he can sit at the counter while you cook as he always does, “I called the electrician so the TV is already fixed. I know you could have done it, but I decided I’d much rather use that time to hang out with you. I took Puck to get his shots at the vet and I also used my free afternoon to take your car through the car wash.”

When you reach the kitchen, you twirl around towards Elias and his arms immediately circle around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “But thank you. I love that you took the time to take care of that for me. And I love you.”

“Look at us,” you tease, lightly tugging at the ends of Elias’ hair. “Speaking each other’s love language like that.”

“Perfect couple,” Elias agrees, and you smile back at him.

Somehow, you and Elias managed to create a language of your own: one that you could speak with nobody else. But luckily, you don’t have to.

Cause he came home to your shared apartment like he always does, and well. That’s the biggest act of service he could do for you.

#elias pettersson #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #elias pettersson fic #elias petterson one shot #elias pettersson imagine #nhl writing

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project-stage · 1 year

Text

Project:STAGE

I was an expected gift for my parents. Some happiness for them to look forward to as I was developing into this cruel world. However when it came to birthing me, my mother died on that day. I suppose that's the only resemblance of her in my life, a happy birthday and a happy death day. Maybe if my mother was alive, this life wouldn't have been a living hell. My father refused to look at me or even acknowledge me. Even the very friends I grew up with turned against me.

I had a false hope, thinking that as I grew older things would get better. Oh, how wrong I was. The bullying and neglect got worse day by day. My father never questioned the injuries I came home with constantly. In fact, no one ever did. They all looked down on me, a nobody who had tried to be somebody. I tried to be somebody important. I wanted to be that somebody everyone had loved, had wanted, and had needed. If I had known that wishes never came true, I would've burned my world a whole lot sooner.

October came by, The cold entering through the windows every night was the only thing that calmed me down. Coming home, I passed by a small toy store, which is around the corner from my house. I saw a tiny frog stuffed animal, that stuffed animal always brought me a strange calm and tranquility.

I opened the door of my house and saw my father sitting on the sofa. There were no beers near the table or on the floor.

At those times I did not realize my big mistake.

-I'm home.- I said tired.

-Oh, welcome.- My father receives me with a smile, something that surprised me, since he never receives me.

My father sits me on the sofa next to him and offers me a glass of tea along with a piece of cake bought from the bakery across the street. I give him an awkward smile

"What do you want of me?" I wonder inside.

My father starts talking after a while, a few light words turn into a conversation, and a conversation turns into a reflection of all that he has done wrong all this time.

-I guess I can't be like mom, I'm sorry.- I apologize.

"-here's still a chance you'll be like her.- My father puts a hand on my shoulder. -If you join the cult, maybe...-

Oh, so that was all he wanted. I remove his hand from my shoulder awkwardly.

-Dad, I gave you my answer a long time ago.- I told him seriously.

There is a silence. My father looks at me, and he stands up. He raises his hand like he's going to hit me, and that's when he realizes, he realizes how bad he's done. He lowers his hand, looking at me.

-Go away.- he orders me. -It should have been you, not her.-

He doesn't have to tell me twice, I grabbed my backpack and headed out the door, determined not to come back. I didn't bother looking for people, because I know that no one would receive me.

I arrive at the bus stop and get on the first one, which, according to the sign, leads to the bridge. I buy a ticket, with the little money I have left, and sit at the end of the bus.

I look out the window until I hear a voice.

-Oh, hello Lucia.-

Next to me I see a boy with a round face and acne, brown hair and blue-green eyes. Pedro is a classmate from the university, I haven't talked much with him, since he is just a simple spectator.

Hello, Pedro, right? I don't think we have talked much.- I clarify, with a dull tone of voice.

-Yeah. We've never talked, you've always been busy.- She tells me, as if it were a joke. -Are you OK? I don't see you with a good face.-

-It's nothing, I'm fine.- I tell him with a smile

He smiles back at me. I think it's the first time that someone from my class smiled at me, fortunately, I can see that he is not like the people from the university, since he is mature, he is doing advanced practice in a nearby police station.

He gets up and goes to the door.

-Hey. Do you want to eat tomorrow together in the cafeteria? - Pedro tells me.

-Huh? Of course, why not-

He did not know that I would not arrive tomorrow.

A few minutes after Pedro gets off, I arrive at my stop, the Pearly Gates Bridge.

I walk up to this one, it's pretty calming. Suddenly, it gives me an idea.

I take off my shoes, and leave the backpack on the ground, I begin to climb the fence that separates the edge of my belongings.

Once I finish my climb, I stand on the edge of the bridge. I swallow, it's a pretty big drop. But that's not going to stop me. A lot of things go through my head in those moments. Would everything have been happier if my mother had survived? If I had said yes to my father's request, would we have been happy? If I hadn't taken this university and had done an Erasmus, would I have gotten along with my classmates?

But that no longer matters, now the only thing left is...

One step.

#oc #oc x canon #original character #overwatch #overwatch oc #spotify #writing #overwatch oneshot #overwatch x reader

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banksdelivers · 3 years

Photo

Chapter 2 is now up!

Thank you all so much for the warm welcome yesterday. As a first time writer, it means everything.

Click here to read Chapter 2 on AO3

Or read below the cut ❤

Chapter 2: “Well, this was a terrible idea”

Inuyasha watched as Kagome turned her back on him and trudged up the path towards where she said her home was. Her raven hair and petite figure were quickly swallowed by the pine trees and approaching darkness.

God, I am so fucked. He was just supposed to be passing through this remote little mountain town, and now he was stuck out here, with an incoming storm, on his goddamn human night. Yup, definitely fucked.

He could already feel the strength slowly seeping from his bones as night inched closer. The town was more than twenty miles back up the main road. He wouldn't make it before either the storm hit or he turned human for the night. With his luck, probably both. So, he would just have to hunker down inside the bus stop and wait it out. Not ideal, but at least it’s covered. He would see if he could trade work for a room for a few days come tomorrow morning, at least until he could find a way through the mountains.

As he tried to get comfortable on the hard metal bench, the girl's words buzzed incessantly in the back of his mind. Those stormy grey eyes penetrating into him, “Can't there be kindness and compassion without pity?” He scoffed, not in his world. Most of the time there wasn't even pity to be found, much less genuine compassion. People didn’t give a fuck about his kind. She was so damn naïve.

He will be the first to admit that he was luckier than most hanyo though. His mother had sheltered him from the worst of society’s bigotry, and because of that he was able to have a truly happy childhood. Inevitably though, this façade was harshly ripped away when she got sick. He watched her waste away, absolutely powerless against the disease that took her away from him. That was the first taste of the real world that he was to experience. He couldn't visit her in the hospital, couldn't be at her fucking side when she finally died, all because he was a half demon. That was four winters ago now, and although he was alone and struggling to get by, at least I am alive.

As the sun finally set, his defenses all bled away, leaving him raw and open to the world around him. He huddled into the corner of the bus stop, pulling his hoodie in tighter around him to block it all out. He had made it this far without handouts and pity, and certainly didn't need them now.

.::..::..::.

It had been a few hours since they talked, and Kagome felt she had waited as long as she could. Night had fallen, and the storm was so much worse than the forecast had predicted it would be. It’s now or never, I have to convince him to come inside. He’ll probably freeze if he stays out there for much longer. Hanyo or otherwise, only snow demons were built for this weather. She grabbed an extra blanket and walked out into the freezing blackness of the moonless night.

She stood there for a moment watching the puffs of air coming from his nose. It was an odd feeling, to be simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see him slumped and shivering against the wall of the bus stop. Disappointed that he didn't try to at least make his way back to town, but relieved that he was still alive. Closing the final gap that separated them, she leaned forward to wrap the blanket around his shoulders and attempted to gently shake him awake. His hood fell back slightly to reveal dark hair. She stared at him, confused. He had silver hair, I’m sure of it. Puzzled, she continued to try and wake him up, her thoughts tumbling around in her mind in an attempt to make sense of what she saw.

Suddenly, a gasp left her mouth, and she pulled back the curtain of his dark hair to confirm her suspicion. He has human ears. Oh, god no. It was his human night. THAT IDIOT. With a renewed sense of urgency, she began to try and lift him off the bench. I swear to whatever gods are out there, if he dies…

.::..::..::.

A particularly icy wind cut straight through him, and his only distant thought was, Well, this was a terrible idea. The snow was piled up around his little shelter, the thin walls were doing nothing to keep out the biting cold. His body was so numb, it almost felt warm at this point. His breathing was shallow and calm. He felt peaceful, and was so close to finally falling asleep. Suddenly someone was shaking him. His instinct was to fight, but his body didn’t have the energy to move the way he wanted it to. A moment passed, and then a warm arm wrapped around his back and pulled at him. He heard an angry voice whispering in his ear, but couldn't make out what was being said over the howl of the wind. He finally peeled open his eyes to see a mess of raven hair directly under his chin. The girl from earlier. She was valiantly struggling to lift him from his spot on the bench. The sight might have been comical under different circumstances.

“What’re ya doin wench?” he slurred and tried to push her away.

“Saving you. You’re welcome.” She snapped back and tightened her hold on his waist. He stared at her for a moment, utterly confused.

She finally succeeded in getting his arm around her shoulder and pulling him up. “You know, if you would have just come up to the house earlier, we wouldn't be in this predicament.”

“Didn't ask ya to.” He mumbled.

“Obviously, but I’m not going to let you die out here just because you’re a stubborn idiot.”

Well, she has me there. So he stopped fighting and leaned into her warmth, allowing her to drag him into the night, and away from the small structure that could have easily been his last stop.

#higurashi kagome #inuyasha #fanfic

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lis-likes-fics · 4 years

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Intoxicated

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Reader Word Count: 7,877 words. JFC. I know, I know Warnings: Alcohol use, drug use, accidental overdose, and a lot of angst. Author’s Note: Okay.... I know. I got a little bit carried away again. Bite me. This is part two of Concussed. I’m super happy with it.

~~~~~

Y/N sighed as she stepped out of her car. Carlisle gave it to her after the accident, her car had exploded after the wreck. She didn't think Jacob would be able to fix that.

She just came back from her day at work at the Carver Café. She'd already graduated and decided to get a job for the money, but mostly just to keep her busy during the day when Carlisle was at work.

She locked the car and walked up to her door, digging in her bag for her keys while moving a strand of hair from her face. When her hands wrapped around the keys, she unlocked her door and walked inside, kicking off her shoes while closing the door behind her.

She set her bag on the table, picking up her phone to call Carlisle after her long day of work. The phone rang a few times as she waited, taking the dollar bills and loose change from her bag and moving it to her money jars.

When the phone didn't pick up, she furrowed her brow and called again. He never missed a call.

When the phone didn't pick up the second time, she started to get worried. She walked to her kitchen, stopping at the door as she looked at the counter. There was a paper, a letter.

She eyed it, wondering what the letter could have said. She saw the flawless signature at the bottom, Carlisle.

Why didn't he call or tell her in person?

She picked up the note and read it carefully:

"My dearest, Y/N,

There are no words to express the gratitude I feel in my heart because our hearts have come to dwell together as one. You are my life, my heart, my soul. You are my one true love. The day we met was fate. You are my destiny. I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I will love you more tomorrow than I do today. Loving you is the only thing that makes my life worth living now.

I love you and I always will until my existence may come to an end. I want to hold you in my arms and tell you how much I love you and how much you really mean to me.

You gave me comfort and confidence where there was doubt. I want to be there when you need to talk. I want to be the comfort for your soul. I want to love you in the way you deserve to be loved. I need you to be a part of my life. All the things that I told you about how I felt and how you make me feel were true.

But I can't be here for you without putting you in danger. You are my love, my life, my heart, my soul, and my everything. If I were to be the reason you get hurt, or worse, I would never be able to forgive myself.

So my family and I are leaving. In time, I hope you are able to move on and find someone who makes you feel whole, who makes you feel better than I ever could. You are a strong woman, so you don't need me. I know that you have the strength to pull through this so you can live a full, happy, and safe life.

I'm sorry for any pain I have ever caused you, I'm sorry for any pain I may cause you. I love you, and I will always love you.

Goodbye, my love.

Forever yours, Carlisle."

Her brain worked to process the letter, trying to let the words sink in. When they did, they hit her hard. It was worse than the car crash, the pain sinking into her body, followed by a cry.

Her legs came out from under her, unable to hold her up and support her. Tears sprang to her eyes and were instantly free falling. A strangled cry left her throat and she dropped the note.

Her head was buried in her legs. She didn't know how long she was there crying. The pain blinded and deafened her. All she could hear was his voice repeating "We're leaving."

Her whole being hurt, she felt her heart being torn in two.

He called her strong. He said she would be able to move on, in time.

He must have not realized just how self-destructive she was. He had become her life and he was leaving her. How could she move on from that?

"I don't want to lose you." Those were the words he told her that same night. Why was he leaving her without those words hanging in the air?

Why would he leave her?

Months had passed. Y/N was a wreck. She attempted going to the Cullen's house to see if it was some sick joke, but she could bring herself to go. She couldn't face the emptiness of that place.

She tried to check up on Bella, but she decided against it. Her mental health was crumbling, she would never be able to help Bella.

Y/N focused on work at the diner. Everyone noticed how lifeless she had become in such a short period of time. She was visibly deteriorating.

When she wasn't at the diner working herself to death, taking double shifts, triple shifts, quadruple shifts to keep her distracted, she was at her home with a bottle of something strong.

Since she lived next to the Chief, she was one of the people in town who people usually knew. Charlie had some sort of guardian responsibility over her after her grandfather died, people knew her.

Because of this, she had to drive all the way to Port Angeles to get her bottles of sweet drunkenness. The longer she was sober, the longer she had to deal with thinking of him.

She didn't want to think of him. Thinking of him meant thinking of him leaving her. Which led to some eternal outlet that would lead to the end of her existence.

She didn't like thinking of him.

If he would just come back to her, she would finally be okay. All she needed was for him to come back.

But that would never happen. He left, he's gone.

Y/N plopped down on her couch, a glass in her hand and a bottle sitting on the table for her refill. She searched through the TV to find something to watch. There had to be something to distract her, something to watch drunk. She knew better after learning from her mistake the first time she got drunk with the door unlocked and her keys in hand.

It was a long day of waiting for her bus back home. She had no idea how she wound up in Montana, but she did.

There was a knock on her door and she groaned loudly, hiding the alcohol in the cabinet under the kitchen sink, putting the jug of dish soap in front of it.

There was another knock on the door and she spoke in the clearest voice she could manage, "I'm coming."

She sighed and grabbed a bottle of water and a mint before opening the door. Bella stood on the other side, bags under her eyes from her lack of sleep and that spark she used to hold gone. Y/N was surprised to see her out of her house or school, she wasn't really active these days.

"Hey, Y/N. Sorry to come over like this," she said, looking at her.

Y/N shook her head, "No problem. Come in."

"Thanks," Bella mumbled as she walked into the house. Y/N scratched her head before closing the door, seeing Bella standing awkwardly in the world.

"Please, sit down," she told her, having a seat herself on her couch.

Bella took the offer, sitting in the chair next to the couch. Y/N asked hesitantly, "How are you holding up?"

Bella chuckled humorlessly, "I don't really want to talk about that."

"Yeah," Y/N muttered, "Me, neither." She stood with a sigh, headed to the kitchen to get a snack or something. "How are your nightmares?" Y/N asked, tripping slightly when she got to the threshold of the kitchen. She muttered a curse word under her breath.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked, concerned about the slip up. Y/N nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine." Despite her best efforts, the slight slur in her tone had managed to escape as she grabbed a bag of chips and poured it in a bowl, taking it back to the living room.

She sat back down on the couch and Bella nodded strangely, "My nightmares are…just the same as they usually are."

Y/N sighed, "Yeah, Charlie tells me sometimes. Says he's wearied- worried about you. Wants me to try and help but… if it's anything like me… I won't be able to."

Bella furrowed her brows, looking at her closer. Bella blinked and shook her head, "Y/N, are you...drunk?"

Y/N looked at her, shaking her head quickly, "What? No! No, I'm not-I'm not drunk. I'm fine… I'm perfectly…completely…fine."

She looked down at a small dog figurine on the table to distract her before looking up to meet Bella's gaze. Tears began to make their way to her eyes, one managing to slip as her lip quivered slightly. She sighed and nodded slowly, "Yeah. I'm… a mess."

She couldn't stop the tears now, so she opted to ignore them. A downside to her being drunk was the spontaneous decision to either be void of emotion or ambushed with it. She always either ended up crying herself to sleep or staying up almost all night long before passing out with an hour of sleep under her belt.

She wiped a tear away, "I don't know what to do. Sobriety makes me think of him and I don't want to do that…"

Bella understood, nodding her slowly as she turned away, her own eyes filling with tears as she sympathized her pain with her own.

"I don't have anyone. My parents are dead, my grandfather is dead. I don't have any other family and I'm here alone," Y/N shook her head, sniffling and turning away from Bella completely.

Bella was always easy to talk to. She didn't judge, she didn't criticize. She would sit and listen and just be there, as a friend should.

Bella nodded, "For what it's worth, you'll always have Charlie and me."

Y/N took in those words. Charlie was always right next door when she needed him, no matter how little that was. He was there, his door was always open. Bella knew the same things Y/N did, so they could empathize with each other. They'd become somewhat family to her.

She just wished she could have her life back. He left with that.

"Thanks, Bells," Y/N told her gently. She looked around her house before her eyes landed on Bella again as she wiped her face, "Uh, can we keep this under wrap? No one in town knows and I want to keep it that way."

Bella nodded, "Won't tell a soul."

"Thanks."

For quite a while that night, the two allowed each other company and open ears. It was nice to have someone who knew, someone who knew.

No one else knew about her relationship with him. She was just out of high school, it would be strange if they got together when he was supposed to be in his late twenties to early thirties, at least to the humans.

Y/N fell asleep sometime after Bella had. It was late and they were both tired, Y/N especially.

When Bella started screaming in her sleep, Y/N bolted up quickly, easing her awake and telling her she was dreaming. Bella apologized heavily and Y/N told her not to worry. She found herself having nightmares of her own some nights.

Bella went back home after she'd woken up and Y/N poured herself a glass before trying to catch sleep of her own.

She went to her bed after cleaning up and was able to pass out from exhaustion. When she dreamt, she couldn't tell how much she wanted to.

Her dreams were the same for months.

"Y/N," her name was called by a voice she never thought she would hear again. She looked around in search of the angelic voice she had missed so much, "Where are you?"

She ran, searching frantically. She couldn't find him, he wasn't anywhere in reach. All she could hear was her name being whispered, as if carried in the wind.

"Where are you? Please!" She called, desperate to see her love again. She needed him, she couldn't go on without him.

"Please! Carlisle, come back!" She called, the name falling off her lips like both honey and poison. She couldn't tell which one. It was a bittersweet taste that drove her mad to think about.

"Please!" She cried, "I need you!"

"Y/N," his voice was closer now. She turned to see him, afraid that, if she wasted time, he would be gone again.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn't feel any different. When she saw his face, it was somehow paler than it normally was. His eyes were dark and tired, his hair was a mess. She stared at him in shock.

She reached a hand out to touch him. But just as her hand touched his cheek, he was gone.

"No, Carlisle!" She yelled, panting as she woke in a cold sweat. Tears covered her face and sweat covered her body.

She bent over and sobbed, her face buried in her knees as she let out the pain she was feeling that curled in her chest like a snake coiled around its prey. Pain filled her head as her headache ripped through her with a vengeance from both the drunkenness and the tears.

It was hard to breathe through her tears when everything hurt so much. It felt like she was being ripped open from the inside. Saying his name out loud only brought back to memories she worked so hard to drown out with alcohol.

Her eyes were red and puffy from crying so much. Her throat hurt from sobbing. She stood and headed downstairs, pushing past her bottles of dish soap to grab the alcohol bottle waiting for her.

She wished he would just come back to her. She wished he would bring back her heart, be with her again so she could stop hurting. Y/N just wanted him back.

Weeks past since this, she was no better. No one thought she would be. She dragged herself to her kitchen for a drink and something to eat.

Her hands grabbed at air as she dug through the cabinet under the sink and she sighed heavily. Y/N turned regrettably, her last bottle was in the trash. She'd finished it last night.

Y/N groaned loudly and stood, replacing her drink with water. She checked her phone, she had the day off of work. So no work to distract herself.

She knew she would be heading out of town today, so she made a checklist of things she would need.

Dinner. She needed food, her fridge was empty. She worked so late that she forgot to go to the store. She sniffed and sighed, she'd go later on today.

She also needed to do her laundry before it piled up. She would do that first and head into the city when that was finished.

The day was long and sober. She couldn't escape her own thoughts as she was left thinking of him with every move.

She hadn't seen Bella lately. All she knew was that she was hanging out on the reservation quite a lot with Jacob. She wondered if that's where she was right now. She especially hadn't seen Bella in the past couple of days.

Y/N would have joined her on the Rez with Jacob, but she thought it best not to. Bella needed this. She seemed better with Jacob around.

When the clothes were folded and put away and the laundry was all done, she headed out. She was running out of tolerance with sobriety.

The drive was about an hour as she came up on the grocery store. After the quick run, she went to the liquor store she always visited for her drinks.

"Ran out again?" The clerk asked as he checked her. She nodded, "Yep, I'm glad you've got me."

"Always do," he chuckled lightly before she paid and left. She went to her car, her bags on her arms as she sighed heavily.

"Psst," she turned around and saw a woman leaning against the side of the building. The woman gave a smile and asked, "Is the liquor satisfying you?"

She raised a brow and just stared back at the woman. She shrugged lightly, "I can give you something stronger. I've seen you around here a couple times a month, for the past six."

Y/N sighed, "I don't want what you're selling. I'm sad, not suicidal."

She laughed, "This stuff won't kill you, it'll just make you feel good. First time I tried it, I had a good time doing it. It'll make you feel real happy."

Y/N bit her lip and thought for a moment. She actually thought about it. She promised herself she wouldn't do anything worse than liquor, but even the liquor was losing its touch. She sighed, "What is it?"

"Just the happy stuff, give it a special name and you get cops on your back. It's nothing you need a needle for, if that's what you're worried about."

That was good. She hated needles. She bit down on her lip before asking, "Normally, it's two hundred."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly. The woman smirked, "But I'll make it one if I can have the best thing you got in there." She motioned to her bag and Y/N thought some more.

She nodded and grabbed her wallet, taking out the two fifties she had. She thought about it a little more, this was a big decision.

But she was too far gone to care. She sighed and handed it over, along with her best bottle, "Here."

The woman smiled and dug in her bag, pulling out a tiny baggy that held a large pill. Y/N grabbed it and put it in her pocket before turning to leave before she made any more big mistakes.

"Have fun," she said as she popped open the bottle.

Y/N got in her car and drove back home. Quickly unloading her food and liquor, she put everything up. She locked the door behind her as usual, grabbing a bottle and pouring herself a couple glasses.

She had completely forgotten about the pill in her pocket until she changed into short shorts and a t-shirt, the baggy falling out of the pocket.

She looked down at the pill, putting a little more thought into it. Unfortunately, it was hard to think. She was already drunk, she got better at downing her liquor with each cup.

But that's why she bought it, wasn't it?

She picked up the pill and sighed, putting it on her tongue and swallowing it, following it with liquor.

The pill worked quickly. At first, she could see how the pill made you feel "happy". She was dancing around her house, tripping over things and enjoying herself.

Then her pulse sped up and she felt nauseous, but she couldn't feel herself puking. Nothing was coming up, she only had the feeling.

When her energy went down dramatically, so did her pulse. She bumped into the table in the living room and tripped slightly.

She got back to her feet, her vision blurry. She was sweating like crazy and she felt horrible. Then she tripped behind the couch, her head fuzzy and her body numb.

Her mouth started foaming a little, her vision fading in and out. She didn't know when she passed out, but she did. She kept coming back to consciousness, but it was hard to feel. Her body hurt, but she couldn't move.

The door opened at some point as her eyes opened lazily. She couldn't see anything, she still had foam coming out of her mouth. It tasted disgusting.

She tried to make a sound or move, but she couldn't. She heard the footsteps but her eyes closed again and she faded out.

The door swung open and his eyes widened as he saw Y/N laying behind the couch, foaming at the mouth.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, kneeling beside her as he tried to listen closely to her heartbeat. It was slow, too slow. If he could cry, he would have.

He placed his cool hand on her cheek, "Y/N, love, wake up. Please."

He looked up and rushed to her bathroom, searching through her cabinet in search of something to use. When he found the activated charcoal, he sighed in relief and snatched it.

He paused when she saw the antidepressants sitting next to it. It was mostly untouched, it didn't seem like it'd been used in months. She'd given up on them.

He frowned and swallowed hard before heading back downstairs to her. He opened her mouth and put one of the pills in her mouth, following it with water to get her to swallow it.

"Come on," he muttered to himself, "Swallow it. Please, take it."

She managed a small noise as she tried to mumble, but her lips barely moved. When he saw her swallow the pill, he nodded and sat her up against his chest.

"Come on," he said, "You'll be okay. It's okay." He picked her up and set her on the couch, her head propped up on a pillow. "You'll be okay," he told her, his face was pained as he watched her.

He stayed with her, giving her a little bit of water at a time after wiping her mouth of the foam and sweat.

He could hear her heartbeat return to normal, the sweat died down and he laid a blanket over her. He sighed with much relief as she slept. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He looked around the house, the house he'd missed walking into. He saw the bottle of liquor and the cup on the table and frowned.

He turned to the kitchen, the fridge had food in it, but it wasn't as full as it needed to be. He sniffed the air and bent down in front of the sink, opening the cabinet to see the fresh bottles hiding behind the soap.

He sighed again, wiping his face before glancing back at her sleeping on the couch. He wandered around the home, trying to see what all was different. He went back to the bathroom to put the charcoal pills back in it. He picked up the bottle of antidepressants, looking at the date written on it.

It was sometime after he'd left.

After a while, he'd heard her scrambling downstairs, followed by a retching sound as she puked. He rushed downstairs to her, taking her hair in his hands to move it out of the way.

She jumped slightly at the touch but was too caught up in throwing up. When she was finished, she collapsed on the floor next to the trash, wiping her face.

He knelt in front of her, not sure if he should offer her a smile or a sad look. He gave her a sad smile to even it out.

Y/N blinked at him and muttered quietly, she was in shock and disbelief, saying his name still hurt. This was some illusion, he wasn't coming back.

"Carlisle?" She spoke, her voice wavering as she ready had tears welling in her eyes at saying the name and seeing him.

"Y/N," Carlisle sighed, reaching his hands out to touch her, "What happened to you? Why would yo-"

She cut him off, standing up as she flinched away from him. She thought him coming back would make everything better. She thought she would throw herself into his arms and tell him how much she missed him.

But she was just pissed.

"What the hell?!" She yelled, moving away from him, her eyes burning in anger.

Carlisle watched her, silently getting back to his feet. She stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice wavering drastically.

"You leave me here alone and then show up after six months with no explanation? I thought you were never coming back! I spent weeks trying to convince myself that you would return and then it turned into months and I lost all hope of ever seeing you again," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I was trying to keep you sa-"

"Keep me safe?" She scoffed, "That's not an excuse, Carlisle. I wish it was, but it isn't." She shook her head and another round of sobs left her, shaking through her violently.

Carlisle hated seeing her cry like this, he hated seeing her so broken. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"You left me here alone. I didn't think you would ever come back. I thought I meant nothing to you."

He tried again, "Y/N-"

"I'm not finished," she told her. She hadn't raised her voice, she had strained it by crying and she knew she wouldn't have to raise it to stop him. He would listen to her.

"I thought you loved me. That's what you told me," she shook her head before allowing herself to look up at him.

"I do love you," Carlisle told her quickly. He couldn't bear the thought of her not knowing that he loved her.

"Then why did you leave?" The room fell silent as she stared him down. He looked away from her, he couldn't take the look in her eyes as she stared at him. They were heartbroken, beaten, she looked hopeless and broken. She continued, "You could have brought me with you, or just stayed. You hurt me, Carlisle. You were supposed to protect me, but I needed protection from myself and you weren't here to give it."

She fell silent and Carlisle hesitated to look up at her, but he did. She was still staring at her feet, tears dropped from her eyes as her lip quivered uncontrollably. Something in him made him move closer to him, his arms out for a hug. He just wanted to calm her, to help her, to wrap his arms around her to tell her that he was here and would never leave her again.

But he couldn't.

"Don't touch me!" She exclaimed, holding her arms around herself. She looked back down at her feet with blurry vision.

Carlisle's eyes held grief, pain, and sorrow. He didn't like seeing her like this. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Y/N sighed heavily and went to her couch, sitting down and pouring a glass of scotch. Carlisle was by her side in a split second, his hand grabbing the bottle and pulling it from her grip.

"You shouldn't be putting this stuff in your body, you almost just died because of it. You've polluted your blood, it smells different," he told her gently.

Y/N didn't look at him, she stated at her glass and sighed, "You... get no say… in what I choose to put in my body."

Without looking at him, she grabbed the bottle again and poured her drink, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. He looked away from her, unable to watch her do this to herself. Or rather what he did to her.

As she drank the liquid, it burned down her throat. She expected it to calm her nerves as it always had, but she only grew self-conscious. Having him see her like this, down at her lowest low as she downed a glass of alcohol, she felt unclean and poisoned. She felt invaluable and dirty. She felt like she had lost all of her importance sitting next to him so hopelessly.

She set her glass down soundlessly, standing up from her spot on the couch to get to the fridge. She opened it and grabbed a bottle of water, hoping it would help to cleanse some of that feeling out of her.

But it didn't. Sure, the water was refreshing, but it didn't help.

Carlisle spoke into the silence, eyes glued to a picture hanging on the wall where she was smiling brightly with her late grandfather. She looked so happy in that picture, a vast contrast to how she looked now.

"I spent every day wishing I was with you. I wanted to come home but I didn't think it was safe. I thought I was putting you in danger simply by being here," Carlisle admitted sadly. His honey smooth voice was clear but anything was calm. It was sad. If he was capable of it, it would have broken multiple times throughout his words.

She sunk down to her knees as he spoke, she didn't want to look back up at him as he spoke, her head against the wall. She didn't look over. "You put me in danger by not being here…" she said softly, "I thought I lost the one I loved the most. It hurt. It especially hurt thinking that the one I loved the most didn't love me." Her voice cracked at the end.

He turned to her, but she did not turn to meet his gaze. It hurt too much to look at him. "I do love you. In all my years, I've never loved like I do with you. You're my everything. I never meant to hurt you."

"All you had to do was stay," she shook her head as she spoke, still refusing to look up at him. She brought her legs in front of her and tucked them to her chest, setting her chin on her arms.

The room fell back into uncomfortable silence. She stared at the cabinet filled with liquor in disgust, thinking back to the pill she took earlier that night. How could she be so stupid?

She swallowed hard as she felt another lump in her throat, more tears threatening to spill. Carlisle licked his lips and closed his eyes, "All I wanted to do was help people. I dedicated my whole existence to doing just that. Then I find someone as special as you and hurt the person I wanted to protect the most."

Carlisle was gone in the next second. He'd left so quickly, there was no sound from the door opening or closing behind him. She saw lights flash outside her window as he started his car, pulling out of the driveway and leaving her alone in her house.

Y/N's face scrunched as tears left her. They streamed down her face, her eyes puffing once again and her body shook. She thought over their conversation in her head. She was too hard on him, she knew that. She should have accepted him and let him make everything okay.

But she didn't, she pushed him away. Even after he just saved her life…again.

"Carlisle," she said. She hadn't spoken his name in months, it hurt too much to say. But after seeing him again, knowing he was real, after all. It was so good to say his name again, it was a release she didn't know she needed. She repeated his name through her sobs, like playing a broken record. It felt so good.

She didn't know how long she was crying. She grabbed the scotch bottle off the table and began to bring it to her lips before stopping. She sighed and looked at the bottle. She shook her head, turning to the sink and pouring it down the drain.

There was a small part of her that was screaming at her to stop, to think about what she was doing, but that part was too small against this new need, this old and new desire in her body.

This desire to make it up to Carlisle.

She couldn't go on the way she was, she knew it wasn't healthy from the start, but she didn't care because it was a distraction, it made her feel somewhat good.

But she was going to do her best to be worthy of his love again. Hopefully, getting rid of the pollutant, the poison she'd been giving herself would make up for an inkling of the harm she inflicted upon him.

She didn't care that he hurt her now that she had hurt him. She just needed to make it up, and she would spend the rest of her life doing that.

She grabbed every bottle she had, pouring it down the sink. With each drop down, she felt unsure of herself. Would she be able to stick it out? This was what she used to cope, this was what she had been using for strength these several months.

Her instincts tried to make her stop what she was doing, but she needed to change her instincts. She needed to get them back to how they were. She needed to be strong for Carlisle.

When the liquor was gone, she closed her eyes and sighed. She felt this strange freedom, this strange pride in her being. She was proud of herself, but only a little bit. It wasn't enough to make her crack any type of smile.

She threw all the liquor bottles in the trash, getting rid of her demon. When she was finished, it was roughly five in the morning. She was practically dead on her feet.

She had terrible sleep over the past couple of weeks, it was so bad that she resulted in not sleeping at all in the past few days.

She was really dizzy and she felt herself swaying, struggling to keep her on her feet. Normally, she would just down a glass of liquor and keep running on that. But seeing as she had just disposed of every single drop she had, that wasn't an option.

Another reason for being so tired? She neglected her body of the water she needed to survive. She was extremely dehydrated.

In short, her body was barely holding on to what little life it held.

She shook her head and declared herself awake, headed to the door to go to Carlisle. She needed to see him. She needed to be with him and reassure him that they would be okay. They had to be okay. She couldn't lose him twice.

However, she didn't make it past the couch before she collapsed, falling to the floor as she passed out instantly.

She might as well start getting used to being woken by people because she collapsed on the floor. Bella was waking her up anxiously, Charlie by her side-- he was probably the one who got the locked door open. Both Charlie and Carlisle had a key.

"Y/N, wake up!" She exclaimed. Y/N's eyes opened slowly and she saw the two hovering over her, fear written across their faces. They relaxed a little when she opened her eyes fully and slowly sat up. She had a pounding headache, though.

"What happened, kid?" Charlie asked, helping her sit up.

Y/N laughed humorlessly, "I guess I was so tired I passed out." She was dizzy as she looked around the room. She struggled to her feet, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge to try and soothe herself.

When her vision settled and she wasn't seeing four Swans in her house, she sighed. Charlie looked over at the trash can filled with liquor bottles.

"What is this?" He asked, eyeing her with a hint of disappointment.

She spoke quickly, "I wasn't drinking any." She thought with the speed of a vampire. She'd spent so much time with the Cullens, she'd picked up on their ability to lie so quickly, "I saw them near the house just laying there, I think someone dumped them, so I threw them away. I passed out because I got tired and dehydrated from so much work at the diner."

He nodded and thought about her answer. It was a legitimate answer to him. He's known this girl her whole life, she wouldn't drink that much, especially at 19. But, in her defense, she would be twenty soon.

He nodded and told her, "Just…be careful, you scared me, kid."

She gave him a reassuring look, forcing a smile, "I will, Chief."

He nodded to her again and looked between her and his daughter before turning to leave them alone, it looked like they had something to talk about.

When he was gone and well out of earshot, Bella rushed to her quickly, "Are you insane? Edward told me what you did. Overdose, really?!"

Y/N sighed, "It was an accident. I was getting… really bad… and someone offered and I was too far gone. It was one pill but I was drunk and it didn't go well… He found me and helped me. We argued and I'm just… I'm trying to fix it."

She watched her as she spoke, she believed every word she said. Y/N was in no position to lie to her at the moment. Bella sighed, "Get some sleep first, at least. I know I can't tell you what to do but you fainted, so I think we can both agree that you need to sleep before you turn into ash or something."

Y/N sighed and agreed to at least that. She knew she needed sleep before she passed out while driving to the Cullen's and really died.

She got in the shower to soothe her body and release some of the tension in her muscles. She'd been so stressed lately and last night with seeing Carlisle for the first time in over six months, arguing with him, and almost dying (technically almost dying twice), she needed a healthy outlet.

After the long shower, she was able to get herself to drift into sleep. After seeing Carlisle again, her nightmares calmed down and allowed her a dreamless sleep. It was nice to have sleep, she hadn't gotten much of it in a long time.

After getting healthy sleep, even if it was only three hours, sleep was sleep, she quickly ate to calm her growling stomach.

She was grabbing her keys when her phone rang. She sighed and turned to pick it up, "Hello?"

"Y/N, I'm glad you're okay. Charlie told me what happened," Billy’s voice said on the other end.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Didn't mean to worry anybody," she told him. She internally sighed. Word spread quick around Forks, she would be surprised if the whole town called to ask if she was okay. But she would rather answer that many phone calls in one day.

Billy wasn't the last to call either. As soon as the call ended, the phone rang again as another person contacted Y/N to make sure she was alright.

What a great town this was to show their concern for her.

At the wrong times.

By the fifth call, she decided to just email all of the people she knew would be calling who hadn't called yet. She wrote the email, reassuring everyone that she was A-OK and didn't need any help. That seemed to shut up the phone and she was able to leave.

She groaned loudly when she looked at the time again. It was already late as it struck five in the evening.

She waited a few more minutes to make sure the phone didn't ring again before getting in her car. During the car ride, she kept herself hydrated, learning from her mistake. She wasn't too keen on fainting from lack of hydration or sleep.

She sped down the familiar path to the Cullen House. She wanted to get there quickly, she had wasted enough time with her mundane activities. She needed to see him.

When she came through the trees and pulled into the Cullen's driveway, she got out before the keys were even out of the ignition. Y/N walked up to the house, seeing Carlisle standing in a window. He saw her and, even from where she was standing, she could see something in eyes when he met hers.

She swallowed hard and held her arms out in front of her, a proposal. He zoomed out of the window and out of the house. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

She instantly broke down again, she was getting tired of crying. Her arms held him to her, never letting go. She was so afraid that if she left go of him, she'd lose him all over again. She couldn't go through that twice.

Even if it wasn't the same as before, it was still her scent Carlisle breathed in as he hugged her tight, careful not to crush her. Everyone else must have been out hunting if they hadn't shown up by now.

Y/N let out a sharp breath before sucking another back in, sobbing into Carlisle's chest. He felt good. He felt like home. She was home.

She let out a breathy laugh and sniffled, letting him hold her to him. It was as if all of their troubles had washed away so that this moment was the most special of all.

Y/N pulled her head out of the crook of his neck just so she could kiss him. She missed him more than anything, she missed his hugs, his kisses, his words of love. This was perfect.

They were wrapped up in their moment, wrapped up in each other. It felt so amazing to have their lives back. They were home again.

She breathed deeply, holding the breath in as her lips moved in sync with her mate's. She then let the breath out in a moan, but she was too focused on the moment to let the sound embarrass her. She wrapped her arms tighter around him.

He pulled away enough to speak, still so close that he spoke against her lips, "I'm so sorry for what I've done to you."

She shook her head, "Stay." She didn't care about what happened, she cared about what can happen.

He smiled, "I will." It was her turn to bring him back into the kiss, kissing him deeply and passionately. It had been too long since she felt his touch.

When her mind came back to her drinking briefly as she spoke into his lip, "I'm quitting."

"Good," he smiled, once again kissing her. They weren't going to waste any time to be near each other, touch each other, love each other.

When the kiss slowed, she took a deep breath in, his scent filling her senses. She missed his scent. She opened her eyes to stare in his, they were beautiful, honey gold, sparkling as he gazed at her. She missed those eyes. She expected them to be darker like they were last night, but they were just as golden as the sun.

She smiled, her first genuine smile in months. He smiled back at her, captivated by her. Their foreheads were still pressed together and they swayed slightly, reveling in each other.

Y/N spoke, intoxicated by him, "I love you." Her words were a whisper, a breath that delivered the sweetest of air.

Carlisle beamed down at her, a light laugh escaping his throat as he gazed at her, his face looking like he was going to cry while his eyes stayed clear of any tears. "I love you," he told her sincerely. The only thing they could think of doing after the heartwarming confession was to kiss each other again.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning again at the feel of his body against hers. She felt amazing with him.

He set her on the hood of her car and continued to kiss her, mumbling against her lips, "I'm going to marry you one day."

She smiled, "What's keeping you back?"

"Absolutely nothing," he told her genuinely.

They stayed like that, just kissing each other's pain away the best they could. There was no way they could ever leave each other's sides. After the ordeal they just went through, they could never.

He told her in that soft, smooth voice she missed with all her being, "I will never leave you again. No matter what, I will always be right here with you. I love you."

"I know," she replied just as gently, "I love you. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me. I love you so much."

The confessions were falling freely, leaving their lips faster than they could think. "After all this time, I still can't believe I'm yours. I can't imagine my life without you now, Carlisle. I obviously wouldn't last. If you hadn't stepped in, I'd be dead. Here I am, only living and breathing because you were here to care for me."

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," he told her that same thing the first time they kissed. They held so much gravity then and they only seem to hold more now, "I don't know how I'd survive without you now. You're my life now and I will never let you go ever again. I promise you."

They thought they were going to be there forever confessing their feelings over and over again, drinking each other in with each kiss. They knew that they would eventually have to go inside and spare the others.

They went inside and eventually everyone came back from their hunting trip. They expressed how good it was to have her around again and how much they missed her. After a talk with Alice about how Carlisle knew she was in trouble, she went up to Carlisle's room with her hand grasped tightly in his.

There was a bed in his room that he had bought specifically for her so she could fall asleep in his arms. They were talking quietly with each other for a while before she finally fell asleep in his embrace.

He promised her that he would never ways protect her and that he would never leave her again, he promised that he loved her deeply, that he would always love her and he would always be here. He kissed her forehead, "Goodnight, my darling. I love you."

She smiled in her sleep, holding him tighter as she allowed her dreams to run wild. It was the best sleep she'd had in what felt like forever as she held tightly to him, never once letting him go as she slept.

Carlisle could have sworn she heard her mumble his name in her sleep and he smiled, breathing in deeply to enjoy her presence.

She muttered to herself, lost in her dreams of him, "I love you, Carlisle…"

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight x you #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x you #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x fem!reader #cullen #female reader #cullen x female reader

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Text

In recognition of 200 followers.....

I composed a list of 200 hero x villain dialogue prompts for you guys to ask me or reblog it and ask your own followers or if you take inspiration.

Thank you so much! It means a whole lot!

1. "I wish I had longer to love you."

2. "Sometimes being the greatest is being the worse."

3. "I will kill you if you die on me."

4. "Bury me... under a willow tree... with tulips and lilies to blossom in the spring and a small stream to keep me company."

5. "Villains aren't capable of love; yet, here I am crying over your grave."

6. "The kitten's name is Max."

7. "I'm going to get a beer."

8. "There is only one way to kill me, but you could never muster the strength to pull through."

9. "I'm dizzy with love for you."

10. "Hero, you are drunk not a toddler."

11. "I pledge to serve you willingly, butthead."

12. "Ride the waves with me." "You are a mermaid, no thanks."

13. "Stay awake for me; it's only a little farther."

14. "I can't carry you!"

15. "He isn't much, but we'll make do."

16. "I WANT TO SEE HER! LET ME SEE HER PLEASE. Please..."

17. "George Washington never told a fib, and I am greater than him, so trust me, Hero, when I say I am telling the truth."

18. "Eggs and butter make dough, knives and guns make death."

19. "You are insane."

20. "The bomb is going off in twenty seconds, Hero. Run now. I-I'm going to stop it."

21. "What is love?"

22. "I don't get the function of hugs."

23. "Mentally I'm good, but physically..."

24. "I only wished for happiness from that genie. I guess it was evil."

25. "Break him, shatter him, destroy him."

26. "Sing with me."

27. "Villain you are touch starved, not dying."

28. "What the heck did you do to your hair." "What? You don't like it?" "It looks like my cat's litterbox."

29. "Don't give me hope."

30. "I am not a disease or a parasite. I am a human. I am one of those millions you swore to protect."

31. "Kiss, marry, kill?" "Kill, kill, kill."

32. "You created me."

33. "Villain don't you dare pass out."

34. "I like the look of blood on you, compliments your eyes."

35. "I kinda dropped Hero through space."

36. "Power exhaustion sucks."

37. "Time to save the world. Yay!" *says in sarcasm*

38. "Let me feed you Hero."

39. "You do not have AC?!"

40. "Villain you have a fever."

41. "Am I drunk?"

42. "Movies. Nine o'clock. Don't be late."

43. "Lemme grab a beer and we are good to go."

44. "Don't. Look. At. Me."

45. "He just had his wisdom teeth out sooo." "How bad can it be? Villain has been shot with twenty tranq darts at one and didn't pass out... immediately anyway, took a good twenty minutes." "Well, you see-" "THE KITTEN IS TRYING TO KILL ME!!!!!"

46. "She needs surgery."

47. "It's a panic attack..." "KISS HIM!"

48. "Blood, gore, madness... this was made for me."

49. "Quit drooling on me and sit up."

50. "There's only one bed."

51. "He looks so cute when he sleeps."

52. "Of all the places to live, you had to choose a heavily fortified medieval castle two thousand years in the past?"

53. "You are a peacock Hero."

54. "Let's see who will drown first. You or me. One, two, three... let's go!"

55. "I wasn't always like this."

56. "Madness is for geniuses, not for me."

57. "It's just a sedative that's going to make you nice and docile."

58. "He's out." "Good, let him rest, villainy is hardwork."

59. "I love her, but she doesn't love me."

60. "If I had a choice to save you or me, I'd pick me."

61. "Gag her."

62. "They aren't made for this, give them mercy."

63. "Talk now or she dies."

64. "Broken ribs, broken jaw, broken arm... are you sure you want me to continue." "No." "Then tell me your name."

65. "Get me some thread and a needle. Just don't touch me."

66. "The police are coming."

67. "Tell me where she is. TELL ME WHERE IS SHE OR I WILL SLASH YOUR THROAT AND TOSS YOU IN THE SEWER!!!!!"

68. "I love you." "I don't."

69. "Hug me just one last time."

70. "Villain hey hey hey. Calm down. You've been in a pretty bad accident."

71. "They won't be able to walk again."

72. "Tell me... just tell if they made it."

73. "Can't you just poof me another arm?"

74. "If you saved all of them, you can save me."

75. "I'm really tired..."

76. "Sleep. I will stay with you."

77. "She is sixteen years old." "All musicians start young." "This isn't a concert, this is life. Stop ruining it."

78. "He"s been in an accident." "Where?" "Five minutes away from your place."

79. "I wish he wasn't unconscious, so I could talk to him. So I could thank him."

80. "It's been four months now. I have came everyday and, uh, I dunno what to say. Hero, I need you to wake up. I can't function knowing you are right here."

81. "I have a date." "Hmm with who?" "Supervillain." "When and where honey?"

82. "Shhhhhhh. Be quiet. We are still being hunted."

83. "Desert?" "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

84. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." "I know, I know dear and I so sorry, but I need you to help me. I need you to help them."

85. "Villain just sleep. Allow the drugs to take you under. Don't fight it, don't resist... just sleep. In the morning, we will be safe."

86. "Being lost in the woods isn't ideal."

87. "An injection of valium will do it."

88. "There's no anesthesia."

89. "Wouldn't it be great if we never met each other?"

90. "Bless you." "I didn't sneeze." "Yeah right. Now go sit down, you're sick."

91. "It's called insomnia you dim-wit."

92. "Join me and we can be great."

93. "You didn't bring me here for the cake." "No, dear, but you are so gullible. I brought you here for a sacrifice." "My life?" "Why yes."

94. "I don't know. I never had someone collapse on my doorstep before."

95. "I have nothing to lose. No family, no friends, just my meaningless life."

96. "That's my daughter, not the villain's... so give me her back before I rip your eyes out."

97. "How long was I out for?!" "Ten minutes, but you were drifting. I don't think you had that good of rest." "Oh, I thought I was asleep for hours."

98. "I know, I know you are going to hate me after this, but trust me when I say it's for the best."

99. "I know everything about you."

100. "I think narcissism is contagious because after watching you for a couple hours, I think I may have developed a little crush on the mirror..."

101. "What did you give me?"

102. "Is she screams, I'm going to scream, and then we are going to die."

103. "No fighting today, my cat just died."

104. "How hard did you punch me?"

105. "Not gonna lie, being delirious was epic."

106. "I am cooking for you. You aren't my servant, so stop thinking it."

107. "My old masters made me into a weapon and called me Villain, but if you desire a lapdog I am going to need to be refurnished to fit your needs."

108. "What is his deal?" "I think he's just crazy."

109. "Love is not what I had in mind when I agreed to go on a date with you."

110. "Hugs are overrated."

111. "Are you too hot or too cold?" "Both."

112. "I wish we could turn back time."

113. "I lost the game." "What do you mean? Hero is dead." "Precisely."

114. "Make a wish." "That you live."

115. "Villain has been acting exceptional! Today we granted them a break from the machine. Go ahead Hero and take him for some ice cream."

116. (Sleepy murmurs) "Don't go. I neeeed you." "Yeah yeah I know Villain."

117. "Villain was the one who hurt me, not Hero."

118. "Supervillain is in danger!"

119. "If everyone is scared of me, I might as well be alone."

120. "My head is killing me."

121. "Don't call an ambulance. Just... hold me."

122. "You don't have to do this. It's going to hurt you more than me." "Anything for you dearest, anything at all."

123. "Hero, go wash your hands before dinner."

124. "You have PTSD?" "I don't know?"

125. "I have soap in my eyes!' "Rinse it out." "Mm no I'm permanently mortally blinded." "Uh huh."

126. "We need to cuddle to keep warm."

127. "Take care of them for me, will you?"

128. "When I'm gone, promise to tell my mother, please."

129. "Drug him and then bring him to me."

130. "Superheroes are for children. In all honesty, we are all villains."

131. "Oh my gosh, Hero, what happened?" "Poisoned."

132. "Wouldn't it be nice?" "I don't fancy prosthetics."

133. "Just shut up and listen!"

134. "There is a memorial parade for Hero tomorrow. They asked you to lead it."

135. "She turned it around... at the end."

136. "I wish that he understood how much I care for him."

137. "Civilian! He fell asleep in my lap last night, like totally zooted. It was so cute, but also very tempting. I stuck a french fry up his nose." "Wow. Did he wake up then?" "Yeah, I am sorta kidnapped right now..."

138. "The book, the sword... all pieces of the puzzle huh." "No, darling, all pieces of my game."

139. "Their death is my fault! Not your's, but mine, so quit trying to make me feel better."

140. "Once upon a time-" "Oh please, not another fairytale."

141. "If only it was that easy."

142. "We are stuck in a maze, how can you be so joyful?"

143. "Celebrate Hero, eat your cake, party into the night... but just know, I will be back."

144. "Call 911!" "Why?" "I stubbed my toe."

145. "Your jawline looks like it was gauzed over in lard." "It looks better than your hay for hair."

146. "You're my best friend." "Villain? Are you on drugs?"

147. "Lay him there and leave him. Let the rats dine on him."

148. "The point of the cow suit?" "Oh, uh, I was at a Halloween parade. You know, for children."

149. "I-i never wanted to hurt you." "I know, I wanted you to, so I allowed it."

150. "Favorite movie?" "Your death." "Ooo never heard of it, let's watch it." "*groans* Oh my gosh, you are stupid."

151. "Being a flutist is my only superpower. And being modest apparently."

152. "Your head will join my collection if yoi don't watch out."

153. "Hey, hey! Wake up, buddy. It's just a nightmare."

154. "Meh head hurts." "Yeah, you hit it pretty hard."

155. "Let's go for a ride." "On that yellow miniature school bus?" "It's a ranger you idiot."

156. "No painkillers, no bandages, perfect environment for infection to settle... I'm just gonna leave you here Villain."

157. "I save you and this is how you repay me? A prison?"

158. "What are you doing?" "Climbing a tree? No Hero, I am breaking into your house to kidnap you."

159. "I formally apologize."

160. "Of all places, Hero, you had to teleport us to a desert. A DESERT."

161. "Supervillain won't stop unless we team up." "I don't think our alliance will stop them, I think it'll just make them angrier."

162. "Stop singing or I will blow this place until even the last atom is broken into itty-bitty molecules!" "That... that is scientifically impossible."

163. "I'm a genius! Yippee!"

164. "Life isn't perfect and nor is your morals."

165. "Control yourself before you kill everyone around you."

166. "Say your goodbyes."

167. "Of all the ways I've died, drowning was by far the nicest."

168. "Love the collar. Is it for fashion purposes?" "Uh, um, uh, er, no?"

169. "You look lonely. Want some hot coco?"

170. "It is negative million out there and you expect me to come in toasty warm after fixing your power?"

171. "Are you sick?" "Yeh." "Come on in then."

172. "Civilian, don't even bother trying to save him."

173. "We have a breach!"

174. "What makes a villain's life less important than your's?"

175. "Enjoy your soup." "You poisoned it." "And you're delusional, eat up."

176. "I hate 99% of the population." "According to a meme I found, you are therefore a cat."

177. "Don't overuse your powers."

178. "This is just an unfortunate event."

179. "You look so cute when you are sleepy and barely conscious."

180. "His fever is rising."

181. "Save her, leave me. I'll-i'll get out of this somehow."

182. "Sometimes self-sacrifice isn't noble, it's selfish."

183. "You are so funny that I need my inhaler to kill you with." "That sentence was so discombobulated that I am leaving."

184. "Just for your information, I hate oranges but love grapes."

185. "Walking down the stairs shouldn't be a momental effort." "You broke both your legs."

186. "You just destroyed my life's work, don't expect me to give you a huge bear hug."

187. "Is it true that you have telekinesis?" "Yes, why?" "Go steal me a donut."

188. "You are so incredibly touch starved, Villain." "Mmm." "Tired? Go ahead and sleep, I'm here."

189. "This is for your own good, I promise."

190. "I'm cold."

191. "I don't want to move and you can't make me."

192. "I AM RETIRED! YOU DON'T NEED TO CONTINUE TO SEND ME PAMPHLETS OF THE HOTTEST HERO OF THE YEAR!"

193. "He's unconscious." "That tired, huh." "No, he passed out from blood loss."

194. "I want a kitten."

195. "I'm no scared of you, so stop acting like I am."

196. "He isn't dangerous, just scared."

197. "They won't be going anywhere for a long, long time."

198. "Hero? Hero? Oh my goodness, please wake up."

199. "Life is too short for pleasures."

200. "I hope you are happy, in the end."

#heros and villains #ask game #200 followers #thank you so much

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