#robbie x cherry

[alumi-san]

Not me re-watching my childhood Nickelodeon life action shows and finding a lot of gay ships.

[fatefulfaerie]

Overgrown

Linktober 2022 prompt #10/31

Word Count: 1,432

Incarnation: Breath of the Wild (pre-calamity)

Trigger Warnings: None Applicable

“It’s overgrown,” Purah said as she looked into the microscope. “I think your hypothesis is correct.”

Of all the moments for Robbie to finally acknowledge he had feelings for the zany young woman from Kakariko, this was probably the strangest one. She was hunched over the mechanism, her left eye practically glued to the cylinder that allowed her to observe upfront how the blue flame affected plant life. It was weird how quiet it was as she withdrew to jot down her notes. Of all the situations over the past month of them studying here at the Akkala Citadel, the shouting matches, the accidental spills, this was a rare bout of silence, a calm realization that made Robbie lightly smile.

Purah’s ink-dipped feather froze mid-sentence and she furrowed her brow. Robbie’s expression turned to one of alarm and confusion when her head turned to him.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, shifting in his seat. He felt heat in his cheeks. Was this blushing? He had no idea. “Of course I am.”

“It’s just you love being right so I expected a big ‘ha told you so’ when I confirmed your hypothesis,” Purah explained.

“Ah yes,” Robbie said, standing up with his hands on his hips. “Ha, I told you so.”

Purah narrowed her eyes, the skepticism in her brewing like steeped tea.

She stood up.

“Are you sure you’re not running a temperature or something,” she asked as she came towards him with a hand ready to check his forehead, yet he ducked out of the way of it before she could, with a nervous chuckle as he swooped around her.

“I am not,” he said, his hands held out as if she were a Lynel. “Everything’s fine.” He forced his nervous laugh into a smile that he gestured to. “See?” he asked as he backed away.

“Is this about the other day?” she said. “I am really sorry about slapping you with an Octorok tentacle. You said it didn’t hurt.”

“I did,” he stammered. “A-and it didn’t. Just don’t worry about it. Keep working, okay?”

Purah was flabbergasted as he watched him scurry off, and soon she felt the presence of another scientist next to her. Purah saw him out of the corner of her eye. With crossed arms Budoh, a fellow researcher that was twice the age of Purah, eyed the oddity that was Robbie.

“I bet I know what that’s about,” he remarked. Purah had no idea what he could be on about, and so she looked over eagerly.

“What?”

Budoh hesitated, his lips warring with themselves as to whether or not he should divulge his knowledge. This was Robbie’s bunkmate, after all, so Purah hung on to every second.

“He got a letter a few days ago,” Budoh explained. “The King is very pleased with our progress here, so pleased that the construction in North Hyrule Plain is meant to be a new lab. He wants Robbie to run it.”

Purah didn’t know what to say at first, stuttering over her vowels and consonants.

“Well that’s amazing!” Purah exclaimed. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He hasn’t told anyone except me because the King told him he can bring along whoever he wants. It’s going to be the forefront of Sheikah tech research and if he’s acting like that around you, then he probably feels bad because…”

“Because he didn’t choose me,” Purah finished, Budoh nodding.

“If it makes you feel any better, Robbie’s probably not going to choose me either. My rupees are on Nashi and Kyu.”

“The strongest mathematician and the smartest engineer,” Purah agreed with nods. “Yeah that checks out, I wouldn’t blame him. I’d probably do the same.”

Purah hugged her arms close as Budoh left her to her thoughts, letting her heart think of what she would do in his place. It wasn’t long, however, until her thoughts drifted to her own inadequacies. Had she known about this opportunity she would have spent the last month proving her worth, heck her invaluableness at that. Or had she already? She was, after all, a nobody from Kakariko, who hadn't touched an ancient screw until the King permissed it last month. What could she offer him, a guy who had been illegally researching Sheikah tech with his parents basically his whole life.

Later, when tears began to fall where she sat in her designated quarters, she told herself she was overreacting. Akkala was a very nice place, and there were far worse problems in the world than her not getting what she wanted. Calamity, just a few years ago a thirteen year old had pulled the Master Sword, not to mention the poor princess living with the pressure of not yet accessing her sealing power since before she reached double digits.

A few knocks rapped at her door and she quickly composed herself, wiping away her tears and making herself look presentable.

“Robbie,” she said in a breathless surprise when she opened the door.

“Hi,” he said. It was all he said. Whatever he had come to talk to her about flew over his head.

“Look, I…” Purah bowed her head. She looked back up. “You don’t have to say anything, it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?” Robbie asked, confused as to how she could know.

“The Royal Lab,” Purah specified. “It’s okay you aren’t taking me. I understand.”

“Goddesses, of course I’m taking you with me,” Robbie said, as if she were crazy. “You’re one of the best people here.”

“Well, Budoh…”

“Budoh?” Robbie interrupted. “Budoh doesn’t believe the world is round. Never listen to Budoh.”

“But I’m not as smart as Kyu or Nashi or…anyone really.”

Robbie grabbed both her shoulders and locked her eyes into his, making sure she understood.

“You overgrew this place after your first day here and you don’t even know why.”

Purah pursed her lips and a lack of knowledge danced in her eyes.

“You’re insanely creative,” Robbie said. “And ruthlessly inventive. You come up with ideas I wouldn’t have dreamed of in a hundred years, and in an hour you already have a prototype. You’re the most hardworking person here. When I got that letter, you’re the first person I thought of. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it getting out how quickly I picked you. If I let the letter breathe a bit and then announced my picks, then people would think I really thought about it.”

“Then why were you acting so weird earlier?” Purah asked.

“I really wasn’t,” Robbie said in defense, sliding his arms off her shoulders.

Purah tipped her head and smiled, and just that made Robbie blush.

“You’re hiding something, that’s for sure,” Purah said, “your face is so red you look like a blossoming daisy with that hair.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Robbie insisted, playfully this time, turning around.

“Come on!” Purah exclaimed, catching up with him and bounding onto his shoulders. She turned him around and Robbie let her. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”

She was jumping up and down like a child, and yet Robbie’s eyes followed her lips. He went for it, closing his eyes and daring. He caught her nose instead, and Purah backed away slowly, shocked.

“Did you just try to kiss me?” Purah asked.

Robbie inhaled to respond, but there was no good excuse for what he just did. No smudge on her nose that he couldn’t have just wiped away with a thumb, no cut on her nostril that he could say he was trying to heal (she wasn’t five, after all).

“I love you,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s my only excuse.”

Purah looked behind her and then back to Robbie.

“Come on,” was all she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him goddesses knows where.

“Uhm…where are we going?” Robbie asked, ignoring the fact that he had literally confessed his love for her and she didn’t dare a response in return.

“We’re almost there,” she said, before opening a closet and shuffling inside.

“Purah, what are you doing?” Robbie said. The closet was so small that their chests were practically touching.

“Eliminating any impression people might have that you choosing me for the Royal Lab was because of bias.”

“It’s not, I told you, I–”

Purah interrupted him with a kiss. She had to lift herself onto her toes, but she didn’t care, breathing into the exchange much like Robbie was beginning to. He cupped her cheek gently, and by the end of the night, Robbie was wiping cherry-colored lipstick off of his pale neck.

[miyagiprincess]

❀ — tag drop one — ʚɞ —

❀ — i hope that it's over when i'm older ( musings )

❀ — cherry lip apocalypse ( visuals )

❀ — wanna see all the stars and everything in between ( study & headcanons )

❀ — i just need someone to take me home ( memes )

❀ — if you could go back you'd stay ( starters & starter calls )

❀ — bet you wanna love me now ( edits )

❀ — how can i be myself i don't know who i am ( threads )

❀ — don't bring the room down everybody's watching you now ( answered )

--

❀ — trained together fell together fell apart ( robby keene )

❀ — ( ship | sam x robby ) the story starts when it was hot and it was summer

[secretsandwritings-blog]

Baby, you're my sugar

pairings - Cobra Kai characters x you/non-binary reader

kg's notes - i just wanted to make something that was cute, fun, and overall a new layout of how I would present my headcanons. so here are the Cobra Kai characters sharing their favourite sweets with you, because they love you!

Demetri Alexopoulos - he would really love to share a Whatchamacallit or Cherry airhead with you and tear off small pieces and feed them to you. he goes from doing that to having it in his mouth to 'feed' you like that when you know the truth is he wants a kiss from you which you happily accept with chocolate on your face from the Whatchamacallit.

Miguel Diaz - he would love lots of Spanish candy and would tend to bring you back a lot of it, especially since he makes frequent trips to Mexico to visit family. the different varieties and textures make you both excited (and nervous) to try them and he'll make sure to take note of which candies you prefer so the two of you can enjoy them together, even if some of them aren't in his personal preferences but he likes seeing you happy.

Robby Keene - he's definitely spicier than anything actually sweet, but he tries to get something not so spicy for you to try, which makes you scoff and say you could handle it. he looks at you funny knowing that you're either lying to him or telling him the truth, either way he's intrigued about how motivated you are to try his "spicy" candies. if he doesn't eat candy he shares the corn nuts with you and you say the ranch flavor is your favourite.

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz - he's the type who really appreciates sour candy and if you don't like it he's willing to share his dark chocolate with you. he wasn't raised eating candy, so you two would share a slice of fruit like: watermelon, apple, orange, or whatever kind he has in his pantry the moment. you actually started his love of chocolate (he would never admit this to your face but he would tell Demetri and Anthony) after telling him to get you some during your period since it helped you with the cramps, even though he retorted with a banana when you asked for the chocolate.

Anthony LaRusso - he would get the little variety packs like Kit Kats, Buenos, or anything chocolate related. he's not a big fan of regular-sized or larger chocolate (like King-size Hershey bars), since it now makes him uncomfortable to eat so much chocolate again. he would unwrap it and feed it to you instead of allowing you to make it yourself, although he would only allow you to take a couple of pieces of chocolate before hiding it in his room. he got better at hiding candy because you were sneaking around while he was trying to hide it once.

Samantha "Sam" LaRusso - similarly to Eli, she would rather eat fruit than real candy, but she sometimes eats real candy and it normally comes from Italy instead of here, America. she's not a fan of chewy or gummy candy, so the cappuccino candy she likes comes as a hard candy to make it last longer, plus she says it's better than the coffee you might get at a coffee shop. you're on the fence about that. it's not your favorite thing while it's hers and you offered her yours to see if she would like it and that is to be determined…

Tory Nichols - she's used to sharing a lot of things especially with her brother (Brandon) because that's all she knows, so it's no surprise when she offers you pieces of her chocolate. she's more on the bitter side of things like something rich—an espresso or a cappuccino if you will for her chocolate, although there are rare times when she would eat Sour Patch Kids or Jolly Ranchers (blue raspberry and watermelon are her favorite flavorus).

[I will add Kenny, Shawn, Aisha, and the adults depending on how well this does and I still need to finish my fic and the last two suggestions in my drafts right now]

[slxsherr]

Tonight I Feel Like More

read part I here and part III here

pairing: charlie walker x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: you attend your first ever stab-a-thon, and finally make it through all of the movies, so charlie gives you a reward under the guise of keeping you warm.

wc: 2014

warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of oral sex (m! receiving), public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), mentions of crying, creampie

a/n: reader is described as being taller than charlie while wearing heels i'm sorry if you're short just pretend you're wearing ridiculously high heels 😭

Since your first movie night with Charlie, it’s been his mission to finish all of the Stab movies with you. Which wouldn’t be so hard if you could get past Stab 5, but the whole time travel plot confuses you, which means you get bored, and Charlie has come to realize that your boredom manifests in a rather, promiscuous way. 

The first time you only lasted twenty minutes before you were pulling down his pants and busying yourself with his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks until you were swallowing his load. After that, the last thing on either of your minds’ was the movie. 

He tries again and again, but somehow, someway, you get lost. He thinks he should feel lucky, having a girlfriend as frisky as you, and for the most part he does. But he’s worried, with Stab-A-Thon coming up he knows you’d want to go and support him at his last film festival. 

What worries him is that at some point throughout the night you’re gonna get bored, and then he’ll have to find a secluded area of of wherever they decide to throw the party to fuck you silly. A problem he never thought he’d have, but he keeps it in mind while discussing venue options with Robbie. 

Eventually they settle on an abandoned farm, far enough to not be bothered by adults, but not too far to the point where the drive is a hassle. They scope out the farmhouse, making sure it’s not too rundown for a gathering of drunk teens. It’s their last year of high school, last year running Cinema Club, last time throwing Stab-A-Thon, and Charlie and Robbie want to go all out. 

On the day of, a few more involved club members help Charlie and Robbie set up for Stab-A-Thon, handling decorations and seating while Charlie and Robbie focus on the audio and visual. Before people start arriving, Charlie adds some yellow police tape to the stairs leading up to the hayloft, spewing bullshit about not wanting a drunk idiot to fall when someone asks, not wanting to say the real reason. 

As soon as the sun falls over the horizon cars start to pull up, teenagers filing in with drinks, talking over the loud music as they wait for the movies to start. You arrive with Kirby and her friends, visibly annoyed by Jill and Trevor fighting behind you, most likely having had to listen to them argue the whole ride over. 

You find Charlie before he spots you, quickly making your way to him through throngs of people, desperate to get away from relationship drama, not wanting it to rub off on you and Charlie. The closer you get to him, the easier it is for him to notice you. You’re dolled up more than usual, pretty makeup and hair he’s gonna feel guilty about ruining later, a short dress barely reaching past your ass, and matching heels that have you standing taller than him. 

Most guys would probably be upset by that, but he can’t find it in himself to care when you slot yourself at his side, leaning in to give him a kiss. Your lipgloss is sweet, strawberry or cherry if he had to guess, a thin layer sticking to his own lips when you pull away. Your smile is even sweeter, eyes shining when they meet his, and he’s reminded of the phrase ‘the lights are on but no one’s home’, a perfect description of what goes on in your head. 

He can tell you planned your outfit for fashion over function, which is the case for most of your outfits. If you’re not whining in his ear to sneak off he’s sure you’ll be complaining about being cold. But he lets those thoughts fade, focusing instead on your warmth at his side, offering you a sip of his drink. 

“What time do the movies start?” You ask, face scrunched up at the bitter taste of whatever alcohol was poured into the jungle juice. 

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Charlie answers, pulling his hand out of his pocket to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. 

“Actually, we should probably get up there and do our kickoff,” Robbie says, seeing the seats mostly filled in. 

“Be right back,” Charlie whispers to you, following Robbie to the projector screen. 

Their introduction is short and sweet, poking fun at the franchise’s clichés, while also promoting underage drinking. The crowd cheers, ready for the movies to start, quoting the iconic opening scene as Charlie and Robbie make their way to the back of the crowd to the projectors. You’re sitting on some bales of hay set up for seating, thin blankets keeping the itchy straw from irritating your skin, confusion etched in your features when you see Charlie walk out of the room instead of joining you. 

Before you can follow him, Robbie takes a seat next to you, going into a rant about the movie that you only half listen to, convinced Charlie has given you the same rant during one of your private movie nights. You don’t have a chance to interrupt him and ask about Charlie though, jerking away when you feel an arm around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Charlie laughs at your reaction, sitting down next to you. “Got you a drink,” he says, offering you a red cup. 

“Thank you,” you say, beaming at him, leaning in for another kiss. 

“Uh-uh, watch the movie,” he says, refocusing your attention to the screen. 

You roll your eyes, but do as he says, watching the movie silently. The two of you sip on your drinks, moving closer together as more people join you on the bales of hay. By the time the second movie starts, you’re forced into Charlie’s lap after getting up for refills and losing your spot. Not that you mind, sat sideways on his lap and tucked into his chest, you’re surprisingly able to focus on the movies for once. 

He entertains you, imitating the killer’s voice and repeating the dialogue for only you to hear, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers the lines. Your giggles are muffled by his chest, his playfulness and the steady beat of his heart comforting you through the jumpscares and violence that you’re still getting used to. 

The two of you allow yourself to relax into one another, comfortably watching each movie as the crowd slowly dwindles. You’ve traded your jungle juice for soda, caffeine and sugar slowly sobering any tipsiness as dawn approaches, eyes blinking slowly as you both fight off sleep. You’re so close, the closest you’ve ever been to finishing all seven Stab movies, and he can’t help but bounce his leg nervously, your whole body shaking from the force of his movement. 

“Stop that,” you mumble, and he does, but it’s not long before his leg is shaking again. “I thought you’ve seen all of these before, shouldn’t I be the nervous one?” You tease him when he still doesn’t stop. 

“Shh, pay attention,” he scolds you, because it’s the final act of the last movie, and you’ve come so far. 

You don’t put up a fight, attention easily grabbed as the kill scenes get messier and the main cast dies off one by one. Charlie’s buzzing with excitement during the last few minutes of the movie, watching for your reaction. Your reaction is dampened by your exhaustion, but even the slightest tell of shock has his lips stretching into a smile, holding you closer as the credits begin to roll. 

“Wow,” is all you say, stretching out in his arms. 

“Well, how do you feel?” He asks you, leaning over you as you lay back. 

“Scared, tired, a little cold,” you answer, his hair tickling your skin as his face nears yours. 

“Hm, well let’s go to bed then,” he says, sitting up and pulling you up with him. 

You follow him to a set of taped off stairs, a thin blanket dragging on the straw covered floor behind him. He holds your hand all the way up the stairs, not wanting you to trip in your heels, spreading the blanket out over the loose stack of hay. The two of you fall onto your makeshift bed for the night, or early morning, laying on your sides as he pulls your back to his chest.

“How about now?” He asks, arms holding you close to him. 

“Less scared, less tired, more cold,” you answer, wishing you had also grabbed a blanket.

“Let me warm you up then,” Charlie says, an impish smile on his face as one of his hands moves between your thighs, tickling your skin as his touch trails up.

“Really? Right now?” You ask, and he can’t tell if you’re excited or not, words slurring from exhaustion. 

“Only if you want me to,” he answers, teasing your inner thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up. 

“Of course I want you to,�� you say, his advances reassured as you open your legs for him. 

Since your first night together, both of you have learned a lot about each other’s sexual preferences. Although Charlie doesn’t have much experience, he found that it doesn’t take much to turn you on. You’re rather needy, and despite being the one guiding him most of the time, he’s the one doing all the work. Not that he minds.

When he dips his fingers past the waistband of your panties, he’s not surprised to find that you’re already wet, teasing your clit with soft circles as his other hand gropes your tits over your dress. Your hips buck in pleasure, thighs closing around his hand as your leg falls from the force of gravity, ass barely grinding back against him as you seek friction. 

“You did so good tonight,” he says, undoing his jeans to pull them down. “Finally watching all of the movies like I asked,” he says, thick head of his cock stretching your slick walls as he pushes into you, your panties merely pulled to the side. 

“Anything for you, baby,” you say, pushing back against him, needing to feel him deeper.

His hands hold your hips in place as he thrusts into you, building speed and tempo as he stifles his groans by marking your neck. You bite your fist, painfully aware of the people asleep just beneath the hayloft, struggling to keep your voice down. It’s unfair, Charlie thinks, how good you feel wrapped around him, milking him as you get closer to orgasm. 

“What’s that?” He asks, hearing you mumbling something through your fist. 

“Harder, please,” you moan, hiding your face in the blanket.

He holds you against him tighter, hips bruising your ass as he fucks you harder. It’s almost like you’re running away from him, grasping at the straw beside you, failing to silence your moans. He has to move one of his hands over your mouth, hearing your voice begin to echo, his other hand holding your hips in place. 

Where once the cold nipped at your skin, you’re now sweltering, Charlie’s body heat warming you up from the inside out. With the way he’s pounding into you now, there’s not much you can think about aside from the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust, how it makes heat flare in your belly, and that you’re so fucking close. You don’t realize you’re crying, your vision having gone blurry a while ago, but now you’re seeing stars, hurtling over the edge as he chases his own pleasure.

You’re limp, twitching in his hold, drool and lipgloss smeared against the palm of his hand. It doesn’t take long for him to finish after you, grinding his release into you as he fills you with his hot cum. You whimper from the overstimulation, breathing heavily as both of you ride out the high.

“Goodnight, baby,” Charlie whispers, arms relaxing around you as you both begin drifting off to sleep, still buried deep within you.

[lexapro-princess]

About Me

Hi, I'm London, I'm from Argentina, and I'm a girlblogger. I'm 22. I'm a piscis, pink is my favorite color and I study psychology in college.

I've had multiple accounts so I've been a girlblogger since 2020.

Lana Del Rey is my favorite singer since I was 17.

My favorite songs from released albums are:

BTD: Summertime Sadness and Off To The Races

Paradise: Ride, Gods & Monsters

UV: Shades Of Cool, West Coast, Black Beauty

Honeymoon: Music To Watch Boys To, High By The Beach, The Blackest Day

LFL: Cherry, White Mustang, Heroin

NFR: Venice Bitch, Cinnamon Girl, Bartender

COTCC: White Dress, COTCC, Tulsa Jesus Break

BB: Black Bathing Suit, Wildflower Wildfire

DYKTTATUOBLVD: A&W, Candy Necklace, Taco Truck x VB

A.K.A: Put Me In A Movie, Yayo, Gramma (Blue Ribbon Sparkler Trailer Heaven)

Sirens: Out With A Bang, A Star For Nick, Pretty Baby

Unreleased: Be My Daddy, Break My Fall, Breaking My Heart, Butterflies, Butterflies Pt. 2, Television Heaven, Prom Song (Gone Wrong), Pink Champagne, Queen Of Disaster.

My favorite movies are: Alice In Wonderland, Girl, Interrupted, Breakfast At Tiffany's, Roman Holiday, Black Swan, Priscilla, Lolita, Scarface (1983), Abzurdah (2015) and Suicide Squad (2016)

My favorite actors and actresses: Keanu Reeves, Cillian Murphy, Margot Robbie, Rachel McAdams, Emma Roberts, Leighton Meester, Angelina Jolie, Brittany Murphy, Winona Rayder, Natalie Portman, Anne Hathaway, Lily Collins, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Marilyn Monroe, Benedict Cumberbatch (love of my life), Robert Downey Jr, Johnny Depp and Al Pacino.

I'm bi, and in the autism spectrum.

My favorite TV shows: The Big Bang Theory, Gossip Girl, Sherlock, Skins, Scream Queens.

I struggle with dysthymia (persistent depressive disorder) and anxiety.

My favorite Disney princess is Elsa.

Characters with whom I share personalities: Elsa, Blair Waldorf, Cher Horowitz, Chanel Oberlin, Sherlock, Sheldon Cooper.

I don't like TikTok and other many modern things.

Winter is the best season change my mind.

I'm always happy to be moots with anyone interested, if you're a girlblogger from Argentina please feel free to DM me but if you're from someplace else you're also welcome.

[southelroydrive]

i got a lot of sins, but you're my favourite.

pairings: Robin Buckley x F!Reader summary: Your relationship with Robin had always been off and on. No matter how many times you left, you always ended up back in her arms. This time, something's different. Inspired by 'Bad Idea' by Dove Cameron. (modern au because phones :] ) word count: 1.4k warnings: implied smut, heavy making out, toxic relationship (i think?)

Robbie <3 is calling...

A smirk tugs at your lips as you stare at your phone screen. You knew this day would come eventually. At this point, it was just the circle of life.

You and Robin had a rocky relationship, to say the least. You used to be friends that just occasionally fucked each other, with no feelings attached. However, that did nothing to stop both of you from falling head over heels. That's when the arguments started. Neither of you had stated any official label for your relationship, scared of admitting your feelings. Yes, you were both stupid but the cycle of your relationship was addicting. You'd get together, get into an argument, tell the other how much you hated them, break up, miss each other, have makeup sex (arguably your favourite part), get back together and repeat. As tiring as it was, nobody else could fill the space in your heart that Robin had hand-carved for herself.

But as much as you missed her, you loved teasing her more. So, you let the phone ring and ring and ring until it stopped. The silence was almost deafening. In it, your thoughts run astray, wondering if maybe this would be the time that she'd give up. But, like clockwork, your phone screen lit up once more, telling you that she had left a voicemail.

"Listen, Y/N. I'm having second thoughts, you know, about us and I really wish I'd never let you go or told you all those things I did. I miss you so much. If you're not busy or anything uhm... I have to tell you something. Face to face preferably."

Her voice was frail and fragile but you could sense the neediness behind her tone. It was funny to you, really, how she thought she was inconspicuous and that you wouldn't be able to tell what she really wanted. But since she asked so nicely, you thought you might as well pay her a visit.

You knew you shouldn't do it. Every time this happened you'd look at yourself in the mirror. This time, you were wearing a simple black vest and shorts, one of Robin's old plaid shirts draped loosely around your frame. Eyeliner smudged from a long, tiring day at work and lips tinted red, you decided it was good enough. You grabbed your phone and car keys before leaving your home.

When you finally arrived at Robin's house, you felt the familiar sense of dread pool in your stomach. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you knocked on the door. From inside, you could hear the thud of footsteps down the stairs before the door flung open.

Before you stood Robin, your Robin. Her eyes were wide, clearly not expecting to open the door to find you there so soon. She was wearing a plain black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. Her hair was messy and her cheeks were tinted red. No matter what, she always amazed you with her beauty even when she wasn't trying. You catch her gaze flicker between your cherry-red lips and her shirt that sat on your shoulders. God, she thought you looked almost sinfully beautiful.

"Still a flirt, Buckley?"

"Huh?" Her eyes met yours. You bit your lip, failing to contain your smile. Her face flushed a dark red, head falling to look at the ground. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

A small laugh escapes your lips. You tilt her head to face you, your thumb resting on her chin and your pointer finger slid underneath it. "Well, I got a lot of sins, but you're my favourite."

Next thing you know, you're in her room with your back pressed against the door. One hand pressed against the wall beside your head, keeping you trapped whilst the other gripped your hair tightly, bringing your face closer to smash your lips against hers. The kiss was sloppy but neither of you cared. Neediness and desire radiated from both of you. Your hands wander to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, deepening the kiss. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging on it before letting go with a soft pop. You don't have a chance to react before her lips are against yours once more, taking the chance to slip her tongue into your parted lips. You hum contentedly into the kiss, gripping her waist even tighter.

When she eventually breaks away, you're gasping for air. Her puffy lips are now smudged with your red lipstick, making you gape in awe at the sight of the woman before you. Her forehead rests gently against yours, looking down at you with lust-filled eyes.

"You know, my therapist told me to try and move on from you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm." Her hands had now moved to rub circles on your hips, keeping you close to her. Her hot breath tickled your neck, making you shudder.

"Do you want to?"

She shakes her head, moving your hips so you were pressed against her chest. "We can talk about it in the morning." She whispers in your ear, voice sensual and longing.

Adrenaline fuels you as you shove her back until her legs hit the bed, pushing her down. Your legs straddle her waist as you sit yourself down on her lap. Immediately, her hands are on your exposed thighs, enjoying the feeling of the soft skin under her palms. Your hands run through her hair, softly grasping at the roots to expose her neck. She groans softly, grip tightening on your thighs as you trail kisses down her jaw to her neck, leaving lipstick stains in your path. You eventually reach her sweet spot, just above her collarbone. You suck on the spot gently, causing her to gasp sharply. One hand leaves her hair, drifting down her sides, playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Please..." A small whimper escapes from her throat. Your heart flutters, hearing her voice. Begging, pleading for you. But as irresistible as the girl was, especially when beneath you, you were here for a reason.

Your hands retracted from her, head moving from the crook of her neck to face her. You smile seeing how pretty she looked, face flushed and eyes screwed shut. "You had something to tell me, didn't you?"

Her eyes snapped open, biting her lip nervously. She shook her head vigorously. "No, no it's not important..." She mumbles, avoiding your gaze.

Your hands cup her cheeks, stopping her from looking anywhere but at you. "Seemed pretty important if you needed to say it face to face, hm?" You look at her through half-lidded eyes, gently moving a strand of her hair that had fallen behind her ear.

"I love you." She blurts out, hands moving from your thighs to clamp around her mouth after she spoke. Your hands froze, taking a bit too long to process what she had just confessed.

Yes, deep down you and Robin knew how hopelessly in love you were with each other but you'd never said it. Your thoughts raced, heart slamming against your chest.

Robin's panic is clear after your lack of response. Apologies start tumbling from her mouth, hands flailing like she wasn't sure what to do with them. You quickly regain your senses, grabbing her hands and pulling her into a kiss to shut her up.

She instantly relaxes into your touch, arms wrapping around your neck as you kissed. This kiss was different from all the others you had shared. This one was full of love and affection, speaking all the feelings you couldn't find the words to explain. It was slow and gentle, you felt like you could stay here forever with your lips on hers. Her hands slip from behind your neck to cup your face, lips parting from yours but still hovered a few millimetres apart.

"I love you." She repeats, breath shaky. She looked at you adoringly, pure love in her eyes making your heart swell with warmth.

"I love you too. God, I love you so much, Robbie." You laugh airily, feeling nothing but pure affection for the freckled girl. She smiles giddily, bringing your face to lean against her shoulder whilst hers is buried into your hair.

"I've waited so long for you to say that." She mumbled into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. "Does this make us... girlfriends?" She pauses before saying the last word, whispering it hesitantly.

"Yeah, you have me all to yourself now, Buckley." You tease, moving your head to face her once more.

A smirk tugs at her lips and suddenly you find yourself on your back with her towering over you.

"I'll be sure to make the most of it then, babe."

Safe to say, she definitely did and you did not talk in the morning about whatever her therapist had said. You loved each other and this time, you thought it could work out.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

All Of Me {Part 07 of 13}

Pairing: Robby Keene X Reader

Chapter word count: 2K

Summary: Being the new girl in the Valley wasn't as bad as you expected, and you were finding your place when the dynamite you were living into exploded. You were kicked out of your house by your stepfather with nothing but a backpack with a few pieces of clothing. There was nowhere to go, and you were preparing yourself to spend the night in the streets when a guy finds you. After being invited to crash at his place, you didn't know the war you were walking into. A war you became determined to end.

<- Previous part (06)

Next Part (08) ->

{Cobra Kai Masterlist}

Dance With Me

With only three days before Sunday, it's understandable that you have two friends - with very different tastes - driving you nuts about the dress. You were going to put on something you had, but both Sam and Piper said that you have to buy something special. On the same day Sam took you to see some options, and Piper, later on, took you to very expensive stores. The dresses there were amazing, but there's no way you will spend that much money on a dress you'll use only once.

But, the moment you set foot in the dojo talking about expensive dresses and the lack of money, you got Sensei Silver's attention. And at the end of it, you did buy a rather expensive dress, Robby got an expensive suit, and Silver said he would have someone bring one of his cars. In his words 'Cobra Kai must be seen in all its glory', even at Valentine's day school party.

So, when Sunday comes, you're finishing styling your hair in the bathroom at 7:30 pm, thirty minutes into the party already. But you don't mind. The best music never comes up in the beginning anyway, and, buying into this whole Coka Kai thing, you do want to be fashionably late.

You have your hair in waves flowing down your shoulders, with the top pinned up and braided, with a few strands of hair framing your face. The dress you got is a dark shade of red, a cherry tone, and the glistening fabric shines when you move. The dress hugs your body perfectly, and the cut on the left, reaching up to the middle of your thigh, will give you enough freedom to dance.

When you're done, you leave the bathroom and put on the black pump high heels. Then, is time to go. Robby is outside waiting, and you take a deep breath before moving. Crossing the tatami in these shoes is quite an adventure, but you manage without accidents. When you pull the dojo door open, Robby turns around. And the first thing you notice isn't the luxury car he's leaning on. It's just him, in a dark grey suit, looking like a movie star.

“You-”

“You're stunning.” He says before you can, eyes moving up and down your body as you walk over to him. “I took a peek at the dress yesterday but... I had no idea you'd make the dress look so much better with you in it.”

Now, your entire face is burning hot. “Thanks...” You mutter, looking down at your hands. “You look amazing too.”

“Nobody will notice me, not with you looking like that,” Robby says and moves to open the door for you. “Let's get going.”

“Which car is this? Looks expensive.” You give it a quick look before getting in, the yellow color making a clear reference to the dojo.

“It's a Ferrari 458.” He pushes the door close. “Probably worths more than the entire block.”

“Don't crash it.” You snap and he laughs.

And, as you expected, the car flies. Robby speeds through every yellow traffic light. And you don't mind it, you're already having fun even before getting to the party. But it's always like this with Robby, no matter where you are, or what you're doing, you're having fun.

He parks near the entrance, because the place is full, and then, much to your surprise, Robby opens the door for you. “Whoa. Such a gentleman.” With a smile, you take his hand and get out of the car. “You know... We should leave our phones here. There will be enough pictures of us as it is.”

Robby nods, looking down at you. “No interruptions. I like it.” He throws his phone in the passenger seat, and you do the same. “Now, my lady...” Robby gives you his arm, which you take with a smile. “You're blushing.”

“Oh, shut it!” You squeeze his arm, and he laughs.

There's still a bunch of people getting here, so you're among them as you walk around the school to the entrance they made in the back. And... It's pretty much as you expected.

“That's... Cheesy.” You say, looking at the many years and cupid decorations they set on the short hall that leads to the gym.

“It's a school party for Valentine's Day. What did you expect?”

“I guess you're right.” Shrugging your shoulders, you're about to say something else when you step into the gym, crossing the red curtains they put here, pulled open... And you're quite impressed. The decoration isn't in overwhelming shades of red and pink. They're there, but the whole thing is much more sophisticated, with fake candles, red roses on the tables, and little white lights throughout the place. “I take it back. That's actually really good.”

“Yeah... I'm impressed.”

“Hey, (Y/N)!” A short boy with blond hair and a camera, Ryan, comes to talk to you. “I'm taking pictures of the couples. Can I take it?”

The familiar burning comes to your face, and you're about to find an excuse when Robby wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. Ryan takes that as a yes, holding the camera up. Moving closer to him, you smile. Robby's face is very close to yours, and you wonder if the camera will get your blushing cheeks. Ryan snaps two pictures, and for the second one, Robby kisses your cheek.

“Let's find our table.” You say, but halfway there, fast music starts to play, and you and Robby exchange a glance.

“Oh no, princess. We're hitting the dance floor.” He says and the next thing you know is that you're dancing, moving to the beat with Robby's body way too close.

But you don't care. And you care much less about the stares you're getting, and you only stop dancing to say hi to your friends as they pass by. But other than that, Robby has your undivided attention, and you both laugh, holding onto each other and ignoring the teachers that come to say something about the acceptable distance between the students. You answer by saying that Robby isn't a student, so the rule doesn't apply to him.

That works for a while until the principal himself comes, recognizing Robby immediately... And that's when you're told he's forbidden to come into the school. You try to argue, to say that what happened was an accident, but the man says rules are rules and then insists on escorting Robby out of the building.

“You should stay,” Robby says when you're outside, walking to the car as the principal stands there, staring, making sure he'll leave. “Your friends are in there, I'm sure they wouldn't leave you alone.”

“I know.” You say, shrugging. “But then you'd be alone. You shouldn't be alone on Valentine's Day.”

When you get to the car, Robby pulls the door open and looks at you. “Then we should go somewhere else. It's still early and I don't want the night to be over just yet.”

At that, you smile, nodding before getting inside the car. “Me neither.”

Robby smiles and pushes the door close, and soon after you hit the road. You don't ask where he's taking you, and it doesn't look like he'll tell.

The ride is filled with small talk about school. Who was with who, who broke with who, as you update him on all the gossip about the people he used to study with.

Half an hour later, you see where he's taking you. “The beach!” You exclaim when you see it. “Amazing.”

“I knew you'd like it.” Shortly after, Robby parks, and you rush off the car, taking your shoes off before walking towards the beach.

The sand looks silver under the faint street lights, and the ocean, with the sweet sound of the crashing waves, is pitch black. But suddenly, lights are turned up, and when you turn around, you see that Robby turned the headlights on... And then, a soft song starts playing.

“I was waiting for the slow songs to play at the school but we didn't get to that part,” Robby says as he comes to join you on the beach.

The wind messes with your hair, and you hold it with a hand to keep it off your face. “It looks like you wanted a romantic turn on the events...” You feel yourself growing hotter as you say this, which is good because the wind coming from the ocean is quite cold.

“Is it that obvious?” When he's close to you, Robby places his hands on your waist, and you start to swing from side to side, to the rhythm of the song. But you don't want to answer because you're too scared to have misunderstood something. “What? You don't like this?”

“Slow dancing at the beach? Of course I like it.” Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip, looking up at him. “What girl wouldn't?”

“I don't care about other girls. I care about you.”

Again, you don't know what to say. And you're about to say something funny when ‘All Of Me’ by John Legend starts playing. “That's... A pretty song.”

“It is.”

And for a while, nobody says anything. You just dance, the lyrics making you feel... Weird, as you try not to let it sink in. And you fail.

And that failing comes when Robby starts humming the song, in your ear, and then, when the chorus comes, he starts singing in a low voice, barely a whisper. “Cause all of me loves all of you... Love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections...”

“I had fun back at the school.” It comes out suddenly, you're not even sure how because there's a lump in your throat.

“I always have fun when I'm with you.” He says, moving away just enough to look down at you. “I had plans to bring you here after the party, because every time we were about to have a moment, someone interrupts.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you tilt your head to the side a little. “What do you mean?”

He smiles. “One of the Senseis calls, or one of the guys... On your second day, it was the stupid pizza guy.”

“The pizza guy...?” You do remember that day, when somehow you ended up talking about kissing.

“I've been wanting to kiss you since that day.” He admits, and the cold wind isn't enough to cool down your skin, and you know the headlights are like spotlights on you now, making your blushing cheeks shine against the dark beach.

“You do?”

“I thought it would go away... I thought these feelings would fade away but they didn't. I live with you and the moment I'm not with you, I already miss you.”

“Robby, what...”

“I'm not a good influence. You can ask any of your Miyagi-Do or Eagle Fang friends, I know exactly what they'll say about me. But... I really wanna see if this could work. Because I can't keep you off my mind, (Y/N).”

Without taking your eyes off him, you hold the collar of his suit, standing on your toes. “Then kiss me...” You mutter, being braver than ever, way more than on your first class at the dojo. “There's nobody to interrupt us now.”

Robby's smile only grows brighter, and, as he leans closer, you close your eyes. The moment you have his lips on yours, it feels like you've been waiting for this. Maybe even before meeting him at all. It was <him> you craved for, this sensation of not just kissing and being kissed, but of kissing the right guy.

You can't remember now the types of kisses Robby told you about that day, but you don't care. The kiss starts sweet and slow, just a couple of pecks before you part your lips a little, and from that point on, Robby takes over, guiding you. But he's gentle, waiting for you to get used to his pace. It doesn't take long until you wrap your arms around his neck, your entire body pressed against his.

You're not sure if it's the giggles coming from somewhere to your left or the fact that you're almost breathless that makes you break apart. But you remain close, foreheads touching. “Robby, I really-” You start, but you're suddenly hit by a wave, the cold water reaching up to your knees making you gasp in surprise. “Damn!”

Robby laughs, holding you up by the waist. “The tide is catching up to us.”

“I think the dress is ruined.” It comes out in laughter because you don't really care.

“I don't want the night to end, but it's late. And we have school tomorrow.” Robby says, setting you down when the wave flows back to the ocean.

“Well, we have tomorrow... And the day after, and the day after that, so... It doesn't really end, does it?” You're not sure what you mean, but Robby gets it. He smiles, and you both start making your way back to the car.

The ride home is filled with some 80's rock and roll music, that you sing at the top of your lungs, with the windows rolled down. He doesn't care, and neither do you. Once you're back home, after stumbling through the dojo among giggles and laughter, you both just crash into bed, catching your breath.

“I think we should change out of these expensive clothes,” Robby mutters after a while, his voice filling the silence. “Might be a waste. We could find nice places to wear them to.”

“Mm... I really don't want to get up now...” You reply, eyes already closed.

“Alright, then, princess...” He says, and you feel it when he moves, pulling you closer. Resisting it doesn't even cross your mind, so you just move until you have your head on his chest.

@eddiemunsonsbattoo

[attapullman]

Morgan!, hi nice to meet ya. How’s it going? Anything new going on?

I was thinking and there is never, maybe a few, of so&so x reader with the pet name ‘Honey’. Then I thought of Bob and then you bc best Robert Bob Floyd writer has to be you. Basically what I’m saying here is. Can you, pretty pretty please with Cherry on top, do a Bob Floyd calling reader honey. Just really tooth rotting fluff. Maybe she calls him ‘Robby’ or ‘Bobby’.

Marie! Nice to meet you, bb!

First off, you're going to make me fall in love with you if you keep saying such nice things about me. "best Robert Bob Floyd writer"! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET MARRIED???

Second, I'm about to make you really happy in bungalow!Bob! There definitely isn't a ton of 'Honey' pet names in my own reading rotation, but that's bungalow!Bob's pet name of choice! Coming to you later this week!

I am extremely weak in the knees thinking about that sweet broad-shouldered man wrapping me in his arms and calling me "Honey" 🫠

[migueldiazrealgf]

INFORMATION & ETC!

⠀⋆ ٠ ─ ☾ i NFO ABOUT WRITER ! 🐰🎀

Call me Dalgi or Bun! She/her ; 20 years old ; in uni FULL time; fluent in English & Spanish! Ask me anything!

I TAKE REQUESTS!

⊹ ᳝ ࣪ ִ 💌 ࣪ CURRENTLY : AVAILABLE!

keep in mind it might take a while to write everything, but please skim thru my will/ will not write list before requesting! Please send all the requests you have ! 🎀

MASTERLIST: coming soon!

CHARACTERS I WRITE ABOUT:

cobra kai vers:

• Miguel Diaz

• Robby Keene

• Samantha LaRusso

• Tory Nichols

• Eli “HAWK” Moskowitz

• Demitri Alexopoulos

The Outsiders vers:

• Sodapop Curtis

• Ponyboy Curtis

• Darry Curtis

• Dallas Winston

• Johnny Cade

• Two-bit

• Steve Randle

• Cherry

SCREAM:

• Billy Loomis

• Stu Matcher

• Sidney Prescott

• Samantha Carpenter

• Tara Carpenter

• Chad Meeks

• Ethan Landry

• Mindy Meeks

• Amber Freeman

Characters that I’m more comfortable with

- Miguel Diaz

- Robby Kenne

- Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz

- Tory Nicols

- Daniel Larusso (karate kid era)

- Johnny Lawerence (karate kid era)

- Sodapop Curtis

- Dallas Winston

- Johnny cade

- Billy Loomis (scream one era)

- stu matcher (scream one era)

- Tara Carpenter

- Sam Carpenter

‼️I will NOT write about // NOT COMFORTABLE WRITING: PLEASE DO NOT REQUEST THE FOLLOWING!! ‼️

• Poly relationships.

• Large Gap relationships.

• “Your mom/ dads friend category”

• Sensei x student

• daddy kink?? Incest or any form of age play!

• Heavy smuts: graphic details ( in general I’m not really comfortable writing smuts but for Sanrio’s it’ll be semi but for my series I don’t think I’ll include it )

• I will NOT write COBRA KAI JOHNNY LAWERENCE, DANIEL LARUSSO, SILVER OR ANY PARENTIAL FIGURES and etc as readers lovers! (For Johnny and Daniel ONLY KARATE KID ONE ERA NOT COBRA KAI ERA)

Same for scream I will not write ABOUT scream 5 & 6: Billie Loomis or Sidney Prescott or stu matcher as your lovers! ( scream ONE era ONLY)

My writing will always be mainly about

If Daniel, Johnny, Silver, Sidney Prescott or gale weather was your parents and your role in the scream/ cobra Kai world!

Mostly angst/ fluff stories!!

I try my best to make sure the atmosphere matches the movies/ series by doing so WRITER WILL MAKE A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST FOR STORIES!! :D it’s optional!

My stories will all be mainly characters x readers or y/n!

I do warn most au’s will be female ! ( if requested male or gender fluid I’ll try my best for you along with lesbian & Gay: readers x characters only!!)

[drfcstrs]

JANE ODINSON ;

Think like a queen -  a queen is not afraid to fail. Failure is another stepping stone to greatness.

➝ pinterest ➝ playlist ➝ tags ➝ roleplay

OVERVIEW

Full Name: Jane Grace (Foster) Odinson Aliases/Nicknames: Dr. Foster Meaning of Name: God is Gracious Alliance: the Avengers Date of Birth: May 29th Age: 31 Zodiac: Gemini Sexuality: heterosexual Pronouns: she/her Height: 5'5 Nationality/Species: American, human Languages Spoken: English, Asgardian Faceclaim: Margot Robbie ( x )

AESTHETIC

Theme Song: Barbie World (Nicki Minaj and Ice Spice) Animal: Red Panda ( x ) Season: spring Time of Day: dawn ( x ) Usual Style of Dress: earth ( x ), Asgard ( x ) Color: cherry blossom pink ( x ) Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

PERSONALITY

introvert / extrovert / ambivert risk-taker / cautious organized / disorganized close-minded / open-minded calm / anxious / restless disagreeable / agreeable / in-between patient / impatient outspoken / reserved / in-between leader / follower / flexible empathetic / un-empathetic optimistic / pessimistic / realistic traditional / modern / in-between hard-working / lazy

Moral alignment (chaotic good, lawful neutral, etc): Lawful Good Personality Type: INFJ, the Advocate. Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Judging. They tend to approach life with deep thoughtfulness. Their inner vision, personal values, and a quiet, principled version of humanism guide them in all things.

STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES

Strengths/Skills:  healing magic (that developed when she was pregnant with her daughter with Thor,) high IQ, emotionally, emphatic Weaknesses: she's a perfectionist to the extreme Mental Ailments: health-related anxiety, she has a lot of it surrounding having cancer when she was a teen and can get health obsessive Bad Habits: paranoia, excessive worrying, need for control Phobias: slight hypochondria 

LIFESTYLE

Birthplace: Santa Fe, New Mexico Current Residence: New York City, goes back and forth to Asgard with Thor Education: NYU School of Medicine Occupation: head doctor for SHIELD/The Avengers, Princess of Asgard

RELATIONSHIPS

Status: married to Thor Odinson Siblings:

Parents: Noah and Amelia Foster

➝ Her mother is a scientist and Jane would often go to work with her, watching her mother work in her lab. It sparked her interest in the field. She’s close to her mom and has a good relationship with her. She became closer to her after her father’s death and while she struggled with her own illness. Her father was a surgeon. She was close to him and struggled after he died of cancer when she was 10, just a few years before she was diagnosed with the same illness.

Children: Astrilde Odinson ( x )

➝ Astrilde is her daughter with Thor, born right before the Battle of New York.

Best Friend: Klara Arnesdòttir Pets: Thunder, Golden Retriever Enemies: she tries not to make them Other notable relationships: Eisa Hill (niece), Loki Odinson (brother-in-law), King Odin and Queen Frigga (in-laws) Exes:

BACKSTORY

Jane was an only child and grew up in New Mexico with her mom and dad. Her mom is a scientist and her dad was a surgeon, so she was intellectually drawn to and always inspired by science, specifically space and the possibilities that there were other realms and dimensions. Her father died of cancer when she was 10 and she struggled mentally with his death in the years following, not knowing she’d be diagnosed with the same just a few years later. Unlike her dad, however, she beat it and hasn’t had a recurrence since, though she’s extremely health conscious and borderline paranoid about it at times. She was originally drawn to astrophysics. but her stays at the hospital sparked an interest in medicine. It also helped her feel closer to her dad. After med school, she began working at shield as lead doctor for the Avengers.

[cosmiclvex]

sif arisdóttir ;

Think like a queen -  a queen is not afraid to fail. Failure isanother stepping stone to greatness.

➝ pinterest ➝ playlist

overview

Full Name: Serafina Arisdóttir Aliases/Nicknames: Sif Occupation: Goddess of War, liaison between the realms Alliance: the Avengers, Asgard Strengths/Skills:  skilled warrior, superhuman strength, agility, and regeneration Date of Birth: May 29th Age: 1060, physically around 30 Zodiac: Gemini Sexuality: heterosexual Pronouns: she/her Height: 5'3 Nationality/Species: Asgardian Languages Spoken: English, Asgardian Faceclaim: Margot Robbie ( x ) Theme Song: Kings & Queens (Ava Max) Color: cherry blossom pink ( x ) Hogwarts House: Gryffindor  Mental Ailments:  Birthplace: Asgard Current Residence: New York City, goes back and forth to Asgard Education: she did all of her education on Asgard

relationships

Status:  Siblings: Parents: Ari Hanson and and Birgit Isakdóttir

➝ Her father is a member of King Odin's court and, due to his stricter, more traditional ideals, her relationship with him is off and on. Her mother is one of the queen's ladies and she tends to be closer to her.

Best Friend: Klara Arnesdòttir, Loki Odinson Pets: Aurora, Tawny owl ( x ) Other notable relationships: Eisa Hill, Lovisa and Ella Hill (nieces)

backstory

Sif grew up on Asgard. She was the product of a failed relationship between her parents and though they were never together, she grew up around the palace due to both of their roles. Her natural talents were never taken seriously by her father due to her being a woman, though being close to the king's sons, she became an appreciated Asgardian warrior despite that. After Thor's banishment and Loki's assumed death, she left Asgard with Klara and relocated to New York City with her, not wishing to remain in Asgard. She's remained in NYC, but occasionally does go back to Asgard, despite her ill feelings towards the King.

[thesunmeltedthegrayaway]

Fandoms I am writing for

Hi! Glad you found my blog. I have a Quotev and Wattpad account with the same name so if this blog ever disappears for some reason my writings will be saved on those accounts.

Masterlist

I will write, one-shots, preferences, and series

Request are open for the following fandoms (this list will probably expand later on lol)

The Outsiders

Characters I will write for...

Cherry Valance

Darrel Curtis

Dallas Winston

Johnny Cade

Keith “Two-Bit” Matthews

Ponyboy Curtis

Sodapop Curtis

Steve Randle

~~~

The Karate Kid (The Original Trilogy)

Characters I will write for...

Ali Mills

Bobby Brown

Daniel Larusso 

Johnny Lawrence 

~~~

Cobra Kai Series

Daniel Larusso

Eli Moskowitz

Johnny Lawrence

Miguel Diaz

Robby Keene

Samantha Larusso

Tory Nicholas

[gh0stbunnywriter]

Gold Dust Woman

Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler

Ch. 4: Sunrise loves to go down

Friends to lovers, explicit, mutual pining, sharing a bed, fix it fic, everyone lives.

“I am so. Sorry.” Robin murmured, eyes fluttering as she stopped to think about what she did. She looked pained, and guilty- She looked like a goddamn kicked puppy, and Nancy felt anger in every fiber of her being. Because who made her feel like that was something wrong?

“No-” Nancy breathed, grabbing Robin’s hands to yank them back to her sides, stuffing them over her waist again. Robin just stared, and Nancy looked down at her, brows knit together in worry. “ Please .” Nancy whispered, and Robin searched her face. 

“Are you sure -” Robin was struggling, her brain fizzling out when Nancy rocked her hips down again and whined high in her throat, sending Robin’s anxiety somewhere way far away, hopefully to never return. “Okay- I- Okay, sorry. Sorry .” Robin sputtered, repeating her motion from before, letting her lips crash against Nancy’s once again. She had to collect herself quickly , because Nancy was taking over every thought in her head and drowning out her panic with noises Robin had only ever heard through a locked door. And then a whole new problem was flooding her brain as she worked her mouth against Nancy’s, eating up the noises she was making. 

Had Nancy been thinking about her when she was in the shower? 

“ Nn- ” Nancy whined, breath catching when Robin pulled on her hips again, keeping her heat trapped against her thigh, forcing her to just grind. “ Robin- ” Nancy’s voice was quiet, like she was scared of getting caught, and Robin recalled that that had been exactly how her name sounded reverberated against the tile of the bathroom walls. She’d tried not to believe it, back then. Because it was crazy, and rude to even think about. But now there was a damp spot growing between their clothed bodies and she felt greed growing in her chest. Robin didn’t want to hear her name whispered like it was something to be hidden. Not muffled through a bathroom door, or choked out behind a hand like it was right now - “Robbie please -” Nancy tried, her hips trying to lift as Robin pushed her face against Nancy’s throat, biting, taking. She wanted to hear her name from cherry bitten lips unabashed- Muffled by thighs on her ears maybe, was the only muffling she was willing to accept. 

But maybe the living room couch would be too embarrassing.

Read the rest on Ao3 here

[moonarchvs]

Requested marked with (^)

1k+ notes marked with (☆)

✿*:･ﾟMARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE:

Series

Nyx Verse [avengers x hacker!reader]

➸the story of the youngest Avenger right from the beginning of the epic Avengers saga.

One Day (p.p x reader) [DISCONTINUED]

➸Peter's life is turned upside down when he meets a criminal who has stolen the world's most precious jewel, but all is not as it seems.

One-shots :

Drunk actions = sober thoughts [p.p x reader]

➸You have harboured feelings for Peter, your childhood friend for the past year, but you keep it a secret to keep your friendship, but some alcohol and drunk you are great secret spillers

"Skinny" Love [p.p x reader]

➸You and Peter fall for each other by communicating through your skin (Soulmate AU, Enemies to lovers AU)

Cherry Chapstick [p.p x reader]

➸Peter's kiss count is abnormally high today and you find the reason to be adorable

The play of the universe [p.p x avenger!reader]

➸ You have been with Peter through everything he's ever faced and you stand strong, fighting by his side during this war as well, but circumstances change when your feelings develop into something more but he has already given his heart to your best friend.

Forever [p.p x reader]

➸A trip down the memory lane of yours and Peter's relationship when he's counting his last moments with you

His MJ [tasm!p.p x gn!reader]

➸ After meeting two versions of himself, Peter Parker is a changed man. He has rediscovered himself and decides to step into the game of love once again, by asking you on a date

3 words, 8 letters [p.p x reader]

➵3 words, 8 letters. That's all it takes.

Mornings like these [j.b.b x reader]

➸A lazy morning with your boyfriend, Bucky.

✿*:･ﾟCOBRA KAI:

One-shots

Paramour [m.d x reader]

➵Miguel has a secret admirer and he has you, why to choose when he can have both?

Home [r.k x reader]

➵After he goes to juvie, Robby pushes you away for your own good but it kills him from inside.

Better in red [e.m x reader] ^

➵You have feelings for Eli which only intensified when he 'flipped the script' but you're in denial. However, an encounter with Eli at the mall changes something.

✿*:･ﾟTOM HOLLAND:

One-shots :

Grocery shopping

➵After finding an empty fridge at night and having no food for dinner, you and Tom decide to go for some grocery shopping.

Puppy Interview ☆

➵You and Tom attend the puppy interview for the second time to promote your upcoming film, Uncharted

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|eighteen.

chapter eighteen: yellow pansy ↳ flower meanings:  thinking of you.

chapter summary: you left a journal in his top drawer. pairing: tom holland x y/n warnings: haha you’re going to HATE ME word count: 11.5K

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

it took me ages write this, my writersblock was awful BUT IT’S HERE ! We are missing one more chapter but here it is! I hope you don’t hate me as much as I think you will, I split the ending in two chapters because it was LONG, so expect the final chapter in these days

Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I got back into writing

You kept a journal. With flowers printed on them. Each and every single one was given by him. You had recently remembered it, wondering where in your room it could be. Hidden behind some other lost forgotten memories or some other unforgettable mysteries. You wondered if the flowers had kept their color. Most of them hadn’t.

“Well, here goes to the happily ever after,” you said as you smiled, even when the notebook was still roaming your mind.

Tim offered a gentle smile, watching carefully, as the white dress fell down.

When it comes to love stories, happy endings are what we wish for. Life, unfortunately, isn’t like that. But often we are bombarded with stories that are just too good to be true, enough for us to believe this. With them down the sunset on a white horse. With prince charming being charming enough.

With Mister Darcy as the sun is rising telling Elizabeth “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”

With Donna and Sam getting married, and a bunch of friends singing Abba songs.

With Noah and Ally peacefully drifting off, hand in hand.

With Baby and Johnny Castle dancing together.

Characters that are but a reflection of our deepest dreams. Ones that are kept secret and shut for the world. With stories that make us believe we are happy.

It’s fine to shield in. But it’s no good to dwell on them.

We often don’t get what we wish for when we shield in a dream.

You wondered, what about Valerie and William?

Or… Tom and Y/n?

Your own story was supposed to be kept a secret, yet it ended up being a script and then a movie that would be seen by thousands. Your story transformed into a story people could shield on. A story that had been merely sentiments, then words and a very bad misunderstanding and… then a film.

Seeing yourself on someone else might have been what helped you understand it. Transforming your story into characters and trying to portray a love story that was born out of hatred… had probably been the first mistake.

If we can say it was ever a mistake. How big of a mistake can it be when it brings you so much joy?

Your luck hadn’t been enough for your own faith. But you always wondered, what happens after the happily ever after? Is it truly the outcome? When two souls find each other? Isn’t it only the beginning?

Valerie and William hadn’t had it.

The story ended with Valerie and Robbie getting together, it fit. That’s how the story had been driven. Tom and you had discussed it over and over, the story was written for Valerie to end up with Robbie.

“This is a story, y/n, it’s not us.” He had assured you. “We need to disconnect from it.”

And it wasn’t. It wasn’t you. But how much had those characters stolen from you?

How disappointing, but you made the decision along with them.

It had been painful to relive some things, and the changes to the script had been made to soothe the pain.

But they had a happily ever after. Separate ways.

Who would’ve thought you’d be so right?

Films and stories often end when marriage comes, or when the couple finally gets together, the happily ever after. You barely believed it was the ending.

Because the real journey began with it. Doesn’t it? Isn't the true adventure when they find each other?

When something goes wrong, though, it means the journey isn’t over. The happily ever after is the ending isn’t it? Isn’t the story over until after they’re happily ever after?

Love, though it might be one of the most precious things, often comes with a heartbreak. A tragedy. It didn't hurt this time, though.

But love, when it’s real, doesn’t seem like a loss even if it ends. Because, isn’t it the ending when they finally are together? If we follow that rule, that the ending is when they’re together then it wasn’t the ending.

Or was it?

You couldn’t help but wonder, however…What if you lived a lie? Just a fairy tale that wasn’t supposed to have a happily ever after.

Though the script was far from reality, you felt like your own story was twisted. Why weren’t you in your ‘happily ever after’?

Maybe the side story was yours. Because you were not the princess about to walk into the sunset.

“I really love the dress,” Tim commented.

You did too, but it had you wondering about happily ever after?

What happens to them after the credit rolls? What happens to the characters when the last page ends? Are those characters strong enough to keep together? Are their stories just dried out? Like flowers. Easily forgotten in a journal hidden in your room.

A bouquet that once served as a beautiful symbol now was scattered on top of the shelf, as a few petals fell down.

Flowers dry out.

“Yes, magnificent,” you answered.

The dress made you remember the day you thought it would last forever. That Tom and you would have that ever after. That it wouldn’t dry out.

Tom had only looked up at you, sitting finally on a director chair and he had smiled. Gently. Caring.

And that thought came to your mind. “I hope this lasts forever.”

And for a moment you thought it could. Maybe it was the endless smiles or the constant yellow flowers adorning your room that would end up on your journal.

But nothing ever does last forever. Not the good things. Not pancakes, or ice cream, or street hot dogs. Moments don’t last forever, that’s why you have to grasp to them.

And there was a point at which you knew, you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Because the film continues.

However, you liked to think that love was like a flower. One that grows. Not one that is cut to be given. A perennial one. One that blooms, and continues to bloom when it’s taken care of. But perennial flowers don’t bloom all the time.

A flower can’t bloom for eternity. And a cut flower will not preserve.

In stories and films, we know detail by detail. From the very first word, to the last breath. But when it comes to your own, you often forget what is important. We barely stop to see, and suddenly, life escapes from your hands and you’re stuck in a moment and you can’t get out.

Before you know it, all you’re left with is a script and a movie you can’t bear to watch because it brings too many memories. But good ones, that is. Mostly good.

Before you know it, you have a box with his stuff, and you’re texting to see when you have to drop them off. And before you know it, he is standing there, and you’re hoping he will beg for one last time because you will give it, but he never does, and stays quiet. Too quiet.

Not every love is perennial. Not every love is meant to bloom again.

Perennial flowers, when they bloom, are the most wonderful. But when they’re away, the skies are gray.

But somehow, we go through it. At least you tried to.

The ‘what if’ comes as something complicated. No pillow talks would’ve helped your case, it seemed like any smiles were now hidden under the bed.

It’s needless to say and regard the multiple emotions that had gone by in the relationship, that week it started or that month it finished. That year, if we are honest. That whole year of your relationship. And you had to look back at it. For it all started in a breakup, that had opened the door to be with the love of your life. It all started with a revenge.

It was weird to see it. How a year before you dated Tom, you would have gone with Tim. How you had expected it, how you thought Tim was the endgame. How that year Harry had asked if you would marry Tim and you’d answered that maybe you would.

How at some point you had considered it again. How you even considered Harry. But Tim.

Had Tim waited for a little bit longer, maybe things would’ve turned out quite different. You were thankful he hadn’t. Tim and you were a lesson to each other. Tim had shown you you can be loved and you had shown Tim he can love. Tim and you were fine now, he had found a girl. Lily. Her name was Lily. Purity. Rebirth.

Because, although it had seemed that Tim had died a little with your last conversation before officially letting him go, he had seen himself shine again. How surprising, her name was Lily. Such a coincidence.

Lily, a girl that could easily be passed by. Yet Tim had stopped to see her.

Tim and you would never share what you both said in that conversation. The last flower he had given you was a daisy. A secret between two friends.

Cherry and you went back to what you were before, strangers to each other. But she’d found a girl, by luck. Heather. She was happy now. Happiest.

A year had gone by. Many things had changed. Mostly you, and though you would look back to your past self and warn her that another heartbreak by Tom would be coming, you wouldn’t change it.

A breakup had opened many doors.

Maybe this one would too.

It was bound to come. How on earth were you supposed to grow flowers on a battlefield? But you’d built it together.

And you had. And everything was good, with sunsets and polaroids, and flowers. And fights that would cycle and cyle. But end up cuddling watching reruns of an old 80’s tv show that you barely watched because you were too busy staring into his eyes.

With old fights that would resurface and other secrets that kept chasing you both. But it was good, when you were trying to get the garden back into place, to try and forget the battlefield. Loving him had come so easily, though. Waking up by his side was taken for granted.

You had thought loving him would be a buzzing street, with crowds bustling as the rain is about to begin. You thought loving him would be a Friday night waiting for someone to show up but never did.

You were wrong.

Loving him was walking through a flower field, and taking a Polaroid of the most beautiful sunset. Loving him meant holding his hand and kissing over and over again.

But loving him meant that the sun eventually would set.

And maybe the heartbreak that had come with this one hadn’t been an actual heartbreak and maybe that’s why it hurt. Because it didn’t.

Maybe you’d forged a heartbreak or a relationship. Maybe that had been it, conning yourselves into believing you were fine when you were far from it.

Looking back maybe it was because of Rome, New York, and eventually LA. Cities that you once said you wouldn’t dare to go back to. But now you are willing to visit. Happily, it’s better to walk in a city full of memories rather than one pointless illusion of the memories you could’ve had.

He had gone to New York, and still took his Polaroid everywhere. A habit you loved about him, it seemed he became an expert on holding onto memories.

The breakup had come after James’ wedding. Lovely wedding, by the way. Fairytale full of wonder. A year ago, shortly after the film had premiered, a year after it finished filming.

It was supposed to come. Because when your own brother was finding his way, you had lost yours.

But what happened? When did life slip in? When did it start ending?

Before you knew it, you had packed your stuff without you being aware of it. You had packed everything up, except your own heart. You left your heart right there, right next to that stupid journal, in his upper drawer, right next to his bed. Had he opened that drawer ever since or had he forgotten about it?

There was your journal, not in your room. In his. And he hadn’t given it back.That’s why you felt lost. Your heart was imprinted there and he hadn’t given it back.

But you had packed everything else, with him not even trying to stop you. Just watching you circle around.

Was it fear? Maybe it had been fear, from both. You supposed that’s how life was. Loving was not a duty.

You only had one request for him, one last request: “Remember me, I was the one to love you, and I was the one to call in the middle of the night when you couldn’t sleep. Just remember me when we’re no longer here.”

Because it hadn’t been your fault, your life just slipped in. Distance. No time for calls. Your job getting too much recognition, his job getting even more. Fights that were only to push each other away so it wouldn’t hurt when you both were away. Maybe being enemies had come useful when it was supposed to end.

Fight, and more fights in the end. Yet you were gripping each other. And life had just slipped in. Like it always does.

And it wasn’t him. And it wasn’t you.

“Tell me you actually want it to end,” he had asked when you had the final box.

You didn’t. But there wasn’t much you could do, expect walk out the doors.

Or was there? But even if it was a breakup, you both agreed to remain friends, and then it transformed into little excuses to see each other.

Because it didn’t end up badly. It had been life slipping in. With barely having any time for something that needed too much time to build on.

Filming initially had helped you, how beautiful it was creating it, what a beautiful outcome it had been out of your heartbreak. With music, and fights and everything that was splendid.

Maybe the film wasn’t a huge success, but it had been enough for you both to try and mend it after.

But when filming had ended and you had to go back, that’s when the problems started. His job, your new one. Him there, you here. When you were together, it was amazing, worth it. But then you barely could. And you could barely grip each other.

Then you were too different. Then you were just the same, so stubborn and stupid.

Then it was old arguments, and new ones.

When was it gone? Had he stopped loving you?

He had asked you, near the end. “Do you still love me? Are we still enough?”

“I do love you.” But you hadn’t answered the second question. And what was it? Why wasn’t it? “Why wouldn’t we?” you had questioned.

“Dunno, it’s delicate.”

It was.

Maybe it had been James’ words for Clark. About how love shouldn’t be forced, how love should be simple and love shouldn’t be hurt. About how they built it together. How it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t complicated.

And then Clark had said it, too. How he loved being with someone that he enjoyed silence with. How love was more than passion. How love was more than a kiss. Seeing how simple it had been for them, was a bit disappointing for you both. Your relationship was anything but simple.

And it wasn't now because you didn’t trust each other, or because you wanted to fight. No, it simply was life telling you, you shouldn’t be together. And maybe it was also the fact that you both thought you worked because you had never experienced silence together. Always a wreck. Always a mess. Always so passionate. But… was it only that? Maybe it was the passion of the moment.

You knew Tom still played the conversation with Tim over and over in his head. How by the end he said he felt guilty by it all.

You too, you were both driven by guilt and guilt eventually snaps you.

So it ended.

“Is it too soon to end this?” You had asked him.

Tom had shrugged. “Would you rather it be late?”

But that didn’t mean you… had to stop seeing each other. Or did it? So you based your new relationship on excuses. And the excuses had grown. ‘I need to give you this hoodie’, ‘I forgot my charger at your place’ ‘I need someone to drive me to do errands’, ‘I need help running lines’, ‘I need a date for this party.’

And then they didn’t even make sense. ‘I can’t open a jar’ ‘I can’t watch this movie alone’ ‘I need to rant about the ending of this series’ ‘I sneezed and no one blessed me’. Stupid things. And then it was the truth ‘I need to listen to your voice’. ‘I miss you’. ‘I want to see you’.

But it was only seeing each other, with no… relationship. No kissing, no anything. Only excuses. A… friendship.

True friendship, for the first time ever. And you could talk for hours with him until the sun came out, and you could laugh with him.

Maybe it hurt that it wasn’t more, but maybe it was never meant to be like that. But you were in a good place. In the best place you had been. The strongest you had both been, too. How civil you were with clothes on. And how many times had you stopped your will to undress him.

Your lips searched for his but they never got what they wanted, your hands hurt from keeping them to yourself, and your heart would only ache a bit.

From both sides.

Seemed that both of you knew what you had to build up on. And maybe you both knew the risk that would come if you were willing to give it a try without having something to settle on.

Maybe that’s why it didn’t hurt. Because it would bloom again, right? Maybe you were preparing the dirt to plant it in. Not loose flowers now. Have seeds.

Or that’s the idea you built yourself into. Because honestly. Had you ever been more than enemies with benefits?

But now, you were friends. Good friends. Maybe you were in love with him, and grown fonder of him now. Really, really in love. But friends. Friends who stared a little bit too much into each other’s eyes, or friends who would easily recognize each other’s laughter. Friends who would have their feet up the headboard and talk about life. Friends who instinctively would give the other a bite of their food or offer a sip of their drink.

Friends who would take a deep breath each time the other walked into the room, and friends who avoided getting too close that it would be mistaken for something else. Secret moments. Standing on the other sides of the room, turning your head away each time your eyes met.

Maybe you didn’t get the happy ending you wished for, or not the one you had expected to.

But you were happy. And it had ended. Those things were unrelated.

But a lot had changed.

Ay first, you had to fight the urge to undress him. Now you had to fight the urge to stare too long into his smile.

Really, a lot had changed.

Tom had started dating someone else, you didn’t know how long that lasted. You had pretended not to care, although you did.

You went out on dates, too. Didn’t inform him, either. Not explicitly. Though he did know.

Because you were friends. That was the happy ending you deserved.

A lot had changed.

And you were currently helping a bride tie that bow in her dress as she stared at her reflection. Her hair hung to her shoulders and half of it was tied with perfect braids. She was finally having her happy ending.

“Are you ready for the veil?” Timmy asked, as he watched the reflection of the bride.

“Can you give me a bloody second, Timothée?” Emma snapped with her usual tone. “I’m fucking busy right now, the veil can wait, don’t be a dick.”

You only held your laughter eyeing Tim. Tim and you had stopped looking at each other like you felt guilty for a while now. Tom’s jealousy had not exactly been driven away, you guessed it never would go.

But surprisingly enough, they became...friends. Or they could stand each other now after James had talked to both of them.

James and the married life that seemed to suit him. His wedding had been very small, but charming nonetheless. You wondered if you would’ve had something like that, very personal.

Quite a different story from Emma and Harry now. Whose love had conquered. And they had had a rough patch but how difficult can it be when you find your soulmate?

Maybe Harry and Emma had Tom and you doubting too. Tom and you had seen several times that you were not meant to be. Your coincidences in life had not been so, rarely coincidences but the both of you fighting for something. Too stubborn to admit that life was getting in the way.

Tom and you had all the odds in your favor and the ones to fuck it up were you both.

While Harry and Emma always had everything against them and they managed to work it out.

Who’re the soulmates here?

“What a lovely thing the blushing bride is, eh?” Tim rolled his eyes.

Emma had been… quite the bride. Everything had to be perfect, which was not likely for Emma to be that way. But she did say it, since she was marrying the love of her life it had to be big enough. In a rustic hotel, full of books and vintage furniture. A very cottage-like wedding. Very Emma and Harry. Unique.

It was perfect.

It had to, honestly. After the crossroads… everything had changed for them.

How Emma and Harry got back together was no mystery, Harry had been brave enough to go for her. When two souls are meant to be even the rockiest path will be easy to travel by.

It was the opposite of what you and Tom used to have. Emma and Harry had all the friendship, relationship settled, they just missed… the passion.

And so when they found each other, and were like two horny teenagers running around, it became...so effortless. Because they had something built upon.

As if life was rewarding them for their patience. For the love they shared. For each and every smile.

Both wild flowers, Often disregarded, had found each other, and created the most beautiful bouquet.

You only chuckled at Tim’s remark. “Splendid bride.”

While you and Tom had never been friends. Only too driven by the other, and passion and… when it ended? What were you? Were you merely nightly romance?

Tim groaned. “Emma—“he raised the veil. “I’m not trying to—I just think you should be wearing this already.”

“Shut up,” Emma granted. “I will but right now I’m—“

“Staring at your reflection?” Tim challenged. Because Emma was actually just doing that. Staring at the perfect dress she was wearing. Shining brightly like a diamond against the sun, her skin perfectly sparkled.

Emma looked for your glance in the mirror,”y/n, love.”

“Yes?”

“As my maid of honor, what are you willing to do?”

You offered her a grin, “Anything.”

Emma stared into your eyes. “Kill Timothée.”

You chuckled, “Almost anything, you should’ve asked earlier. I don’t want to get blood in my dress.”

Tim was surprised by your words. “So you would’ve?”

“Possibly, I don’t want to encounter a bridezilla Emma.”

Timmy threw his hands in the air. “I just want to help.”

“Well, don’t,” Emma and you said at the same time.

“I’m going to check on the guys, I am one hundredth percent sure they’re still in their pj’s drinking beer,” You commented.

The hotel room for the boy’s was only a floor below. It was everything Harry and Emma had probably wished for. An outdoor wedding that was planned to the very perfection. Very fairytale like. Lights hanging from trees, flower petals covering the aisle, daisies as the centerpieces, and daisies in Emma’s hands. Emma’s dream had always been an outdoor wedding.

When speaking with Emma and Harry both had stated that they made the decision not to give up. Always leaving you to wonder.

There was a part of you that was blinded by desirous thoughts. Had it been a mistake? To conclude a relationship that you had fought so long for?

Lately it had been.

You made your way to the elevator and as it opened you found a familiar face. He seemed uneasy, though.

“Y/N!” His voice was only a confirmation to his precarious state.

Your cheeks furrowed as you smiled, “Clark, hi!”

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a hug, a very nervous hug. as you stepped into the elevator. “Fuck, you look stunning. Loving the flowers on the hair.”

The dress was absolutely stunning, you had to give in that Emma’s taste was remarkable. Sky blue had been her color choice, to match with the flowers. Daisies and hydrangeas. Innocence and beauty.

It was ironic, a bit. You’d helped her with the flowers, and initially she had like sunflowers. As if it had been sntached from you. Maybe it was destiny laughing in your face. Yet she’d gone for the delicate hydrangeas.

“Thanks, Emma’s idea,” you grinned. “Where are you—“

“Oh eh, with the other boys,” he said as you pressed the button. He was shaking.

“So, what’s got you all flustered?” You questioned.

You could see Clark sweating. “Hm?”

“What’s got you all flustered?” You questioned, again.

He didn’t give you an answer. “Clark?”

Clark bit his lip. It was never usual for Clark to be anxious or to hide thoughts for himself. The man was always certain of his thoughts and actions. There was probably a calamity waiting for you.

“I—I am only the messenger,” he said, “I was actually looking for—Tim but—“

There it was. “But?”

“I think you might be of more help,” Clark admitted.

“Clark?” Your brows furrowed as the elevator door opened. He only offered a nervous smile as he licked his lips.

You saw Tom at the end of the hallway, on a call, shirt buttoned half way, his other hand running through his hair, he looked troubled. You were hoping his eyes would meet yours. Ever since the wedding was approaching he had been inattentive. Maybe the wedding hurt as much. It had been so hard for him to switch from lovers to friends. Did he ever stop and wonder if you guys could’ve had one? Did Tom also hindered with painful thoughts of how everything had so carelessly ended?

Lately it was all you had in your mind, how you felt ready. Or maybe it was the pressure that the wedding was giving you. And just as you started getting closer, Tom had backed away without a warning.

James was just getting out of the room, mid hallway. Your brother seemed to be as stressed. The tie around his neck barely covering it, his hair was scrunched. James’ eyes crossed with yours and then went straight to his husband’s.

“You brought y/n?” James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah, fuck it,” he looked at his watch. “Yes, you might be more helpful,” James said as he gestured with his hand to come over.

There was clearly something going on. You eyed Tom, who still was not aware you were there.

“I—Sam, no, no, I’ll—I can’t stay here, fuck I have his phone here—“You heard him say before James had dragged you into the room.

You approached your brother. “What is going on?”

“We—couldn’t find Harry’s tie,” James explained.

A tie? This was all of it? This whole catastrophe was for a tie?

“Can't any of you give him yours?” You frowned. It was no surprise that they hadn’t come up with a solution to such a simple problem, you could not expect less from men.

James rolled his eyes. “So he went to search for it about an hour ago but he fucking left his phone here and—“

Then you understood what was going on. “Where’s Harry?” You closed your eyes.

James gulped. “That’s—the thing.”

“Where is Harry?” You questioned, again.

Clark cleared his throat. “We don’t—know.”

Oh, so you were fucked. “Whose stupid idea was—?”

“Well, Dad told me he left home about 40 minutes ago and he didn’t see him at home, Sam hasn’t found him—Their fucking twin telepathy thing is broken, I guess—“Tom had walked in staring at his phone, loudly explaining his previous conversation. “Oh—hi, y/n.”

“Hi.” It was rutinary, for both of you. To just—stop when the other walked into a room. You blushed. Only noticing until then how handsome he looked. Seemed you hadn’t realized how badly you wanted him. In the most innocent way, in the way that you only wanted to offer him your heart. In the way that you only wanted the sole confirmation that he still loved you. In the way you wanted to be the reason for his smile.

You wanted to ask him, if it was okay he was still on your mind. Was it wrong? Would he be chill with him visiting your dreams?

Because that had been the hardest part of it all. At some point you had both decided you needed to move on… Because both of you at the beginning were trying to get back together and after a long conversation that almost led to one kiss, you both decided it wasn’t appropriate. So pretending you didn’t love each other was the way you’d keep him, for whatever it was worth.

Tom had said it once, hadn’t he? How everytime you both stated your feelings… it hurt. So now that you weren’t stating them, you were supposed to not hurt. Why did it, then?

“You look—stunning,” he eyed you up and down, and licked his lips, “I—I’m sorry I didn’t-uh-call this morning-I was—“

“You look pretty, too,” you interrupted. Knowing that the missed call would be a subject for James’ interest. The short story was—you had probably had a few more drinks than you should’ve with him at the hotel bar with Clark and James and Tom had walked you to your room, only walking, not even a kiss on the cheek as much as you had wanted it, but he had promised to call in the morning after you had claimed he had been ignoring you. He hadn’t called.

And was aware of it, which meant he hadn’t forgotten. It meant he had avoided you, again.

It had seemed that from one morning to another Tom had decided that the word friends meant strangers.

Maybe he wouldn’t pay a visit to your dreams.

He reached for your hair, “I like the flowers—”

“Can you both leave your ‘in love but not together’ bullshit for later?” James snapped you both out of the trance. “The wedding is in two hours and the fucking groom is no where in sight.”

Both Tom and you turned to him, travelling back to reality. “Well it’s not my fault! Who—sent him? Why didn’t you guys offer to go for the stupid tie?” You snapped back at your brother.

Tom looked away.

Of course. You watched him. “Tom? How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” he admitted.

You took a deep breath. This was definitely not the scenario you wanted to find yourself in. Had… Harry escaped? It was… not likely to escape but then again, you’d learned not to expect anything.

It was reason enough to worry.

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Tom said.

James sighed. “He took my car and—“

“You gave him your car to escape—!” You snapped. “Your car always stops working!”

“No,to go for his tie, not to escape,” Tom snapped his fingers with a smile defending your brother. “We-”

“Thomas oh my god, I am not even- All of you, you all thought it was a good idea?” You were furious now. Whose stupid idea was it to-Of course it had been Tom’s. You were going to jump to conclusions. “To send the groom when any of you could have gone-?”

You didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

You really didn’t, however it was ineluctable. Not because Harry didn’t love Emma, but because Harry was… scared. You didn’t blame him. True love comes barely once in a thousand lifetimes and when we finally get to it, it might be too much for us to handle. However after your conversations with Harry this cataclystic outcome had not been foreseen.

“My dad is around the hotel trying to find him,” Tom quickly answered.

You took a deep breath. You perfectly knew Harry.

Harry and you were close as you had once been, in a way, Harry and you were well apprised of the other. Harry was reasonable enough not to leave his wedding.

“He offered to go,” James explained.

Harry wouldn’t have offered that unless he needed to go away. And you only needed one confirmation, there was no way Harry would’ve forgotten his tie. Harry would’ve never forgotten it, unless it had been self sabotaged.

You were conveyed to the drawers, opened each one carefully, fearing you’d find it, and your gut had been right. there it was. The tie in all of its splendor. “And you let him go?” You asked, taking the tie and swinging it to them. “To search for this tie?”

“Yes,” James closed his eyes. “Fuck. We should’ve known.”

Your eyes crossed with Tom’s and then you then realized it, Tom seemed calm. Tom wasn’t freaking out. Not externally. You weren’t sure if he really wasn’t or if it was the usual wall you both build around the other. Incomprehensible it seemed now. Always keeping it cool, So many things you’ve lived and you had let them go oh so easily?

But you were flawed. You had been. But not now, what was stopping you both? Wasn’t he still the one holding your broken heart in the palm of his hand? Had he not borrowed it?

You were still trying to hold his.

But your mind shouldn’t be worried about your relationship with Tom when the groom was nowhere to be found. When he had lied that he lost his tie and it was right in that drawer.

Yet, you somehow knew there was something… Something there.

“He was supposed to go home then?” You questioned Tom.

Tom was getting anxious by the second. “Yes, so we can go look for him.”

“The two of you?” James interrupted.

“Yes the two of us, we could split and look for him but...” Tom said. “Someone has to stay here.”

James was slightly annoyed, you could tell. But James was often annoyed at you and Tom. James had been the most disappointed about the resulting relationship. Honestly, everybody was disappointed. Had you been cowards for giving up?

So much drama and for what?

“Of course you’d think splitting up is a good idea,” James snapped with poison. James was annoyed because he always pointed it out to you, how much you’d fought to have him and how easily you’d walked out.

Walking out had not been easy. Walking out had to be the most painful decision you’ve ever made. And you remembered that night you had, the city was asleep, the night was quiet, and you were the only one standing on that street, under that streetlight. Alone. He hadn’t gone to you. You’d looked back to his window, expecting him to be there, and then the door had remained closed.

You cleared your throat. “I might know where Harry is,” you lied. You were at a loss of your mind at the moment. Maybe it was shock. Not maybe, it certainly was shock. The sole thought of Harry not appearing at his own wedding had not ever crossed your mind. You’d thought Emma would’ve. Would’ve been in character, but how stupid do you have to be to run from your wedding on your wedding day?

Tom directed a glance. “I think I might know where he is, too.”

Did he? Or was he only trying to prove a point?

Though the friendship was afloat, some habits could never wear out. Especially when it came to challenging the other. After the breakup it had become a sort of competition of who was dealing better with it.

Neither of you were coping well, but you wouldn’t admit it.

How disappointing, isn’t it? A whole story to end just in a few words. A whole journey to be plucked off your hands. So quickly, so easily.

How ironic it seemed that after such a long time, it was this breaking up bullshit.

James watched between the both of you. “Do you really?”

“Yes,” Tom and you answered and panicked at the other’s statement.

“Well, I’ll race you there,” you challenged.

Tom squinted, “I don’t have my car, dad gave me a ride.”

“Well, then, you should start running so I don’t beat you there,” you grinned and then walked off the room, decidingly. Only thing left was knowing where exactly Harry had run to.

“This isn’t a fucking game, y/n!” James reminded you. “We need to find Harry.”

“I know, Jamesy!”

Tom had rushed after you, “You have no idea where he is, do you?” He mumbled.

“Not a clue,” you admitted. “You?”

He laughed, “Not a fucking clue, either.”

You both got into the elevator. He dug his hands into his pockets.

“Do you think he escaped?” Tom questioned.

“It’s possible,” you admitted. You sighed, as you pressed the button to the upper floor.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked.

“I need my keys,” You said.

Tom’s eyes widened. “And are you telling Emma?” He was panicking.

“Of course!” You gave him the widest beam. “She’ll be delighted!”

“What?”

You jokingly slapped his head. “Of course not, idiot! How the fuck am I supposed to tell her? What would I even tell her? Hey! We can’t find Harry! He might have run off! No!”

“Right. Then what’s the alibi?” Tom asked. “Just showing up and leaving?”

You sighed, “You, you will be my alibi.”

Tom blinked but followed after you when the elevator door finally left you at your floor, you rushed to the room, but stopped in front of it, buttoning Tom up. He watched you with confusion.

“I thought I was your alibi,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “Not that kind of alibi, dipshit.“

Helaughed, rolling his eyes and avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, it’s been a while since that could be the alibi.”

You decided to ignore the statement, “Now, when I walk in, if you hear Emma question me—just call me and try rushing me.”

“Alright, but I think we need a solid alibi, y/n,” Tom pushed.

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll take care of that,” you confirmed and opened the door where you were welcomed by Timmy, who was about to go out.

“Oh, hey,” Tim greeted and then eyed Tom. “Thomas.”

“Timothée,” Tom nodded his head.

Even when they both presumed to be friends, you knew that Tim and Tom would always have some sort of… disagreement.

“Uh, I was about to… go see Lily,” Tim explained, turning back to you. “Mind staying with Emma-? Her mother is on one last minute arrangements, it might rain so they’re trying to figure out what to do-So if you could—“

“Actually,” you cleared your throat. “An emergency came up, so I need you to stay here, maybe tell Lily to come here?”

Tim frowned. “What emergency?”

“We’re taking care of it,” Tom explained as you rushed in looking for your purse. “We’ll be quick,” he added. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Y/N, babe, you’re back!” Emma commented.

You squinted your eyes closed, “And I’m leaving—sorry, I need to uh—It will be quick I promise there’s an issue with—there’s an emergency—“

Emma was nervous, “y/n? Everything okay? Did something happen to the flowers?”

You couldn’t lie to her, but you could omit the truth. “No, everything okay with the flowers—I promise I’ll be here quickly, I’m just going to—“

“Y/N, darling?” You heard Tom outside. “We need to go, now.”

Emma heard and then she was no longer going to question you. Not right now, at least. “Ah,” Emma said, knowingly as she rolled her eyes. “I see, Tom— an emergency with Tom.”

“I promise it’s not like that,” you assured her. “But everything is okay and— I’ll be here in time.”

“I am freaking out, do you see the sky? It’s grey! Fucking grey! I need to stop the rain!” Emma yelled. “What if it’s a bloody sign? Fuck, I need to talk to Harry, I need him-”

You freaked out by then. “No, Emma, calm down, it’ll be okay, we will figure something out!”

“Y/N! Please!” Tom called in again.

Emma watched you, “I swear to god, y/n, if your emergency is fucking that man I will murder you.” “Trust me, it’s not.”

Emma glared, “Y/N, I’ll only say it one more time. If you’re leaving my wedding to have sex with that hunk, I will kill you.”

You shook your head. “I’m… Trying to figure out what to do with the rain, okay? Leave this ro me! I’ll see you in a bit, Emma!” You ran back out.

You saw Tom’s mother walking down the hallway, she offered you a concerned look.

Tom seemed calm enough for Tim, however, who was watching him with curiosity. You were thankful that they avoided conversing with each other, especially because Tom would probably screw up the alibi. One that you didn’t have. But probably Tim had bought it, even if he had yet to hear what the alibi was. However, you knew that Tom’s presence was a solid alibi for rather than anything else.

Tom had been an alibi for your nerves. You knew that Tim wouldn’t question why you were nervous because he knew you were always nervous when Tom was around. You certainly looked flustered and having Tom there would definitely explain why you were jittery.

Tim raised his brows at you, and you only took Tom’s hand in an attempt to drag him back to the elevator. Tim was explicitly confused.

“Ah, Nikki! I’m so glad you’re here, Emma is finishing up, would you mind helping her?” Your voice was coming out slightly coarse.

The woman gulped, “are Tom and you taking care of the...rain issue?” She questioned.

“Yes, ma’,” Tom quickly nodded, “we will… find the rain.”

Some things never change, Tom was still an idiot. And for being an actor how terrible was he at lying.

“Find?” Tim questioned.

“Nothing to worry about, Tim darling,” Nikki stepped into the room, trying to push Timothee back inside, “they are taking care of it and they should go look at it, right now, chop chop!”

“See you in a bit, Tim!” You said as you ran to the elevator as Nikki closed the door, you finally were able to let go of Tom’s hand.

He cleared his throat as he pressed the button, “So what was the alibi?” Tom second glanced at you. “Why would we take care of the rain?”

“Because it got lost,” you shrugged. “Why else would we find it.”

He closed his eyes as you both walked into the elevator. “I’m an idiot.”

“Biggest one.”

He chuckled, “I—uh, heard Emma’s comment. About her thinking we were going to-”

You blushed, “Yeah.”

Big distance between both of you. Never ever close enough to accidentally brush against each other or hands coincidentally touching.

How different it was from the elevator in New York.

Tom cleared his throat. “Good to know where she stands in that subject.”

You shrugged, “I would also get mad if my best friend ditched me at my wedding to have sex with an idiot.”

He smirked rolling his eyes. “I believe the term she used was hunk.”

You ignored the comment.

“Why didn’t Timothee question us?” Tom asked.

You shrugged, “Haven’t you noticed that no one questions us?”

Tom furrowed his brows. “How so?”

“Whenever we are together, they never ask anything, they just let us be,” you admitted. Because everyone was waiting for you both to get back together or everyone expected something more from you. You never gave it to them.

He tilted his head slightly, agreeing with you. “I guess they think they’re going to make things awkward.”

No. People let you be because they wanted you to solve it.

“As if they could be,” you chuckled. “I think that’s the best part of us right now, people just don’t… meddle.”

Tom smiled, “I guess.”

You cleared your throat, “Now, where the fuck do you reckon Harry is?” You asked as you reached the lobby, turning back to what actually mattered.

“Honestly, I have no idea, nothing can come to my mind, it’s just… Not likely from Harry to run away,” Tom said. “Like—Me? Definitely. I would’ve—“

“Yes, you’d definitely run,” you nodded as you jingled the keys. Tom asked for the car at the valet.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tom questioned.

“You’d definitely escape from your own wedding,” you chuckled. “You’re so afraid of commitment. It’s the Gemini in you.”

He opened his mouth with pride, “excuse me? Me the one afraid of commitment? May I remind you of your past, my lady?”

You avoided his gaze. “You may not.”

“Said no to a proposal, poor Timothee,” Tom started with a smirk.

“Okay that’s—“You cleared your throat, chuckling slightly. “You shouldn’t—“

“Then—Then,you faked a relationship.”

You eyed him, “are we really going to touch that subject, again?”

“You were scared of commitment enough to fake one,” he joked.

You could joke about it now. Or he could. You’d never joke about it.

“Or I knew you wouldn’t commit so I had to fake I didn’t want it,” you smugly answered.

He faked annoyance. “Well, you ran to another country, yes, just after confessing your lovely feelings through a letter—“

“That’s…different.”

“Then you didn’t give me an answer—you didn’t know if you wanted to date me,” he recalled.

You scoffed, “Thomas, may I remind you why I didn’t want to date you?”

“Then you called it quits after seeing your brother getting married and you were scared we were heading there too,” Tom said.

You gulped, “Ah, yes that last one wasn’t me—“ you reminded him. “Not entirely.”

Tom licked his lips. “Maybe we are both afraid of commitment.”

“No,” you nudged him. “I wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t either.”

There was a sudden silence. You’d barely talked about it before. As if the relationship had suddenly disappeared.

You hadn’t talked about the breakup once in months.

“I would say we are at a crossroads but,” he shrugged. “I do not believe that commitment was the reason for—“

“Nope,” you gave in. “It was not.”

Because it wasn’t, maybe it was the fact you were both too committed to a relationship without form.

“However—you did—“Tom cleared his throat. “I mean—we were headed in some sort of direction.”

“Thomas, I don’t think now is the time to have the conversation we haven’t had.”

“So we should keep pushing it, then? Pretending we are both fine with this agreement? Lately we don’t seem fine with it.”

You knew he was right. Neither of you were entirely happy with this whole new friendship thing. “I—maybe we can talk about it when we find Harry!”

Tom pursed his lips, “so you do want to talk about it?”

You took a deep breath, “Thomas, we can push aside that conversation but we cannot push aside the fact your brother is nowhere to be found on his wedding day.”

“Fine.”

“Besides I think if we’ve pushed it long enough—“

He laughed. “We are—particularly calm about that subject.”

“I don’t think we are,” you admitted. “We just like to pretend when we are calm around each other.”

Tom clicked his tongue, “Maybe. But I’m—We haven’t talked about that in a while.”

“And it’s not the moment right now, it’s your brother’s wedding, and he is nowhere to be found,” you repeated.

Tom’s smile faded and was overstrung again. The car was there.

You let him drive, he usually drove your car. Another habit that hadn’t worn out.

Now things weren’t calm, as if the sudden rush had become the both of you. You finally got it, the anxiety that should’ve come from hearing it. The anger and despair that you were supposed to feel from Harry running away.

He looked down, “what’s that?” He pointed at the cup on the cup holder.

“Coffee, from yesterday,” you explained. “Didn’t finish it.”

“You think I could die from that?” He asked.

You looked at him. “I—don’t know but—You're not thinking of—“

“Drinking it?” Tom smirked. “Yeah, I’m just—-thirsty.”

“Please don’t.”

He took the cup, “I won’t die.”

“I guess not but it’s been sitting here one day!” You tried taking it off. He gripped it and shook his head.

“I won’t die!” He said before taking a sip and scrunching his nose. “This is fucking disgusting.”

“Why are you bloody drinking it?” You laughed.

He laughed, “I—I don’t know, but no it’s not that bad.”

“Thomas what the fuck,” you couldn’t stop laughing. “If you die then I’ll have to take care of your dead body and finding Harry, and my priority is finding Harry so I’d have to pull a Weekend at Bernie’s”

Tom giggled and stuck his tongue out, acting so terribly as if he was actually dying.

“You know,” you watched him with fake repulsion. “You deserve an Oscar for that one performance.”

“Right?” He grinned. “I’ll thank you when I receive it.”

You chuckled, “I think we should focus on Harry instead, yes?”

You both discussed places where he would go, that park? Unlikely. That Pub? He wasn’t there. Home?

Where in the world would he go?

“What if he—?” You were getting tired. “What if he didn’t run away?”

Tom looked over, he was rubbing his face, angry you hadn’t found him at the third pub. “That’s the thing, I don’t think he did.”

“It makes no sense, does it?” You questioned.

“No, he—he loves her,” Tom licked his lips. “It’s cause—“ he clutched to the wheel. “I don’t think Harry would—“

“No, I don’t think so—I just—“

It started to rain, because of course it bloody had to. Seemed that the ambiance always had the urge to level up to the level of drama you were always living.

“Jesus Christ, can we ever get into a dramatic moment without it raining?” Tom questioned, angrily.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “I—It was on the news forecast, I am sorry to inform you, but we’ve got nothing to do with the weather.”

Tom laughed, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Alright, if he’s not at home then he’s—“You laughed, “Where the fuck is Harry?” You yelled, defeated.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “I—hate Harry.”

You agreed. “Wait—wait, where’s your dad driving around?”

“Dunno, but he would’ve called,” Tom admitted. “Bloody hell, I hate Harry—I—can’t believe he did this.” You stayed quiet. If he had. What had led him to it? The day before he had been alright. Of course, he seemed nervous but he was excited, dreamy. In love.

“What do you know?” He questioned.

You frowned, getting your gaze back to him. “What?”

“You have your—thinking face on,” Tom pointed out. “See? Brow furrowed and hand on hair and everything,” he said. “You feel...guilty?”

“What?” You chuckled nervously. “No!”

“I know you guys spoke yesterday,” he recalled.

“Well yes, I wished him luck, but nothing—He gave me no clue of that, no clues of running away!” you admitted. “He was scared but he—I mean I thought it was usual wedding jitters but—he didn’t—I just—Calmed him. I mean he talked to you before, you probably were the one to scare him!”

“I—what?” Tom was taken aback. “I—I didn’t—“

“He talked to you before me!”

“yes, we talked but I gave him brotherly—marriage advice.”

You scoffed. “You? You gave him marriage advice?”

Tom chuckled nervously, “I—no, but—love advice.”

“We are the last people on earth that should give advice on that,” you stated.

He sighed, “I know but—“

“What did you say to him? Maybe you scared him and that’s why he ran away!” You stated, poking him.

He frowned, “Did not!”

“What did you even say to him?” You pushed. “I just know.”

He rolled his eyes, and mocked, “you just know?”

You playfully slapped his arm. “Yes, idiot! I know, you give the worst advice on love, you’re so dramatic.”

“I am dramatic?” He laughed.

“Yes,” you interrupted before he could even defend himself, “and—and, and I am too. We are—Oh god, are we to blame for Harry running away?”

Tom seemed to realize it at the same time. “I mean—Considering what we both could’ve said—“

Neither of you couldn’t help but laugh, maybe with guilt.

“I’m scared,” Tom admitted. He sighed, holding one last laughter.“We’re fucked.”

You both stayed calmly, as the rain halted against the car.

“What did you talk about with him?” He questioned.

Of course the question held more than that. You knew what he was asking about actually.

Seemed that both of you knew you had basically laid it on Harry the day before. Or maybe not. But where else would Tom ever get his advice from?

You had told him not to give up, you’d told Harry that he had found it, whatever love is, he’d found it.

“How I was proud of him, how I wanted what he was getting,” you shrugged.

You had also joked about how you and him wouldn’t have worked out. But you’d also said you were sorry it hadn’t worked out with Tom either. How you knew that him and Emma were not headed there, that he had nothing to worry about.

How you regretted the script. Spilling out your heartbreak for the world to see. Spilling your love story that was barely one and how people had a lot to say about it.

How it was painful to hide your love. How you knew Tom hadn’t moved on either but probably was planning to.

You told Harry to keep his feelings for Emma, and only Emma. That he didn’t have to share it. You had told Harry to treasure every morning, and to find a flower to talk for him.

“You?”

“I apologized for ruining his engagement party,” Tom nodded, “the first one.”

You both gulped.

“But how I—“ Tom shifted in his seat. “How I thought that they had found the silver linings for it all. That after being apart they’d just come back stronger. And how—I was happy for him. How they overcame all obstacles. And how they were just meant to be.”

“Soulmates they are,” you said. “Which is why it makes no sense he is not there.”

“We need to find him,” he stated.

You nodded. “We are very calm, though, considering-”

“Yeah,” he gave in. “I—What about the park?”

“Oh? The park? Not a park, the park, of course, how didn’t I think of that,” you teased. “Oh yes, the park. As if there aren’t hundreds of parks. Yes the park.”

He snorted a laugh, “shut up! You know where I meant!”

“Well, drive, you pillock!” You chuckled. “Drive to—the park!”

He rolled his eyes and was about to start the car, yet again.

“Wait,” there was a part of you that thought you knew where he might be. But—to explain where it was would be difficult. “Let me drive.”

To try and find Harry. Which was technically the quest.

You had less time now. You were tired. But there was something that was making you believe you could find him. You hoped you were right.

Being behind the wheel with Tom as your copilot was weird. You always let him drive because you usually were in charge of the music.

“Well, given that I’m here, I’ll be for the first time in charge of the music in your car,”he said. He seemed to have the same thing in mind.

Which was completely stupid since you were looking for a lost groom, but well, Tom and you didn’t have much in common but you could always brag about the same stupidity and brain cell you shared.

He took the aux cord as you were driving, driving to that location that wasn’t far enough. A place you knew that gave Harry peace. The park.

But of course your own peace was disturbed as ‘I think we're alone now’ played.

You hadn’t listened to that song in a long while, since you’d danced to it on his living room, most of the lights out, your screen light and his own eyes being the only light you needed. When the things were good.

You had, purposefully, erased most songs that ever reminded you of him.

“You seriously have that song?” You snorted as the memories flooded back in.

Tom avoided your glance and shrugged, “What? It’s on my playlist.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I notice that. That’s how music works.”

There was silence. Probably driven by the growing fear of not finding Harry, probably coming from the fear that Harry had actually escaped. And what would that mean?

Had Tom and you really scared him?

But you both drowned the fear while humming the song.

Or maybe the silence came from the very memories of the song.

“It’s on this specific playlist honestly,” Tom said after a few songs.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“It’s—the song,” he cleared up. “haven’t you noticed the songs playing are only songs you like? Or songs—”

Songs with background. You shrugged, “Well, we have similar taste.”

He laughed, “No, y/n, we truly don’t.”

You glanced at him, as he was looking out the window. “Huh, alright—maybe that is the reason we broke up.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “Don’t be an idiot.”

You rolled your eyes. “Never mind, that is.”

“No,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “what Imean—this is my—you playlist.”

You didn’t answer. Not right away.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Tom asked.

“What does that even mean?” You questioned.

He licked his lips. “I—well.”

“So you ignore me but you have a playlist—a me playlist?” You questioned.

Tom licked his lips, “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, it’s—been hard.”

It had been, for you, too. “It’s harder if we are apart,” you pointed out.

He gulped, “That is my point,” he coughed. “We are friends,” he said. “And lately, before I started ignoring you—We were—“

You had been acting a bit more than what friends are supposed to act like. And a wedding always brings romance in everything so it was hard.

You cleared your throat, “It makes it weirder if we both walk away from the other.”

Tom bit his lip, “is it, really?” He watched you carefully. “Because, y/n, I—I’ve been… jealous, how they solved it. And how we couldn’t, after we both tried it was so hard, how we kept falling back.”

You had been slightly jealous, too.

“And, really, I—look, I love my brother and Emma, it’s not them ,” he continued, he rolled his eyes. “For all I know, we are both bitter because before James’ wedding happened we were both talking about… marriage and all,” Tom continued. “And they basically stole what could have been our wedding.”

So you were going to have that conversation. A conversation you had avoided even before the breakup. How both of you were… in talks. How you were expecting it. How you’d jitter if he ever got on his knee to tie his shoe, how every time you’d be waiting for it.

“We didn’t even get engaged,” you pointed out, in an attempt to be cynical, probably.

He coughed, “We talked about it. Good thing—We didn’t get that far because, well.”

“I think we both thought marrying would salvage us from falling,” you stated. “Or we thought it was the next step.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I think we did,” he admitted. “But I—Back then I really thought, I dunno. I was really about to ask.”

You took a deep breath, “I would’ve said yes,” you said easily, though it hurt to even think about it. Though, you had been prepared to say yes.

“It wouldn’t have been right,” he pointed out. “We would’ve broken up before even getting to plan it.”

He was right. So, so right, because where you were heading wasn’t a wedding, you were heading to an even more hurtful breakup.

The decision had been made acknowledging this. Knowing it would hurt less then. Avoiding a terrible breakup.

“We were on a thin line,” you agreed. “Anything would’ve broken us.”

“I knew we were going through a rough patch but—I think we never realized how rough it was.”

You sighed, “Maybe I fucked up when we came back here, when I decided not to move in.”

Tom took a deep breath, “No, it wasn’t that.”

What was it? What had it been?

“I don’t know where we went wrong,” you admitted. “I really don’t.”

He shook his head, confirming he didn’t either. When asked, neither of you had a reason. It just—happened. Things had been just so rough and hard. Nothing to hold on to.

Though it didn’t make sense, you loved him. And he loved you.

“I think we both expected things to get better by themselves.” Tom played with his fingers and watched the window, staring at the raindrops slipping through it. Sliding easily, without no one stopping them.

“And we grew tired of fighting,” you added, as you stopped at a red light.

“Can't even remember what we were fighting about,” he confessed.

You took a heavy breath in, as the music still played in the background. “About nothing, and about everything. We fought over serious stuff, like whether we wanted to be public or not. A little about Tim and Cherry. And over stupid stuff mostly, yeah mostly over stupid stuff. Like when we were supposed to wake up for certain events or what tie you’d wear for James’ wedding, we fought over you staying at my place too much. We also fought about FaceTime hours, and whether we had to ask if we were available for it or not.”

Tom dedicated his glance back to you, sad, upset and full of regret. “I remember the cereal one.”

You raised your brows, “Yeah, that one was a smashing doors one.”

“Over stupid cereal,” he sighed as he brushed his face. “We were so—“

“Toxic?” You finished his sentence.

He chuckled, “yeah, mostly at the end.”

“The beginning too, I mean,” you shook your head. “I—We had sex to just solve everything. Thomas, we had hatred sex.”

He chuckled. “Well.”

You shrugged, “And that’s how we solved the fights initially.”

“It wasn’t enough at the end,” he added.

“It never was, and that’s—Thats why, although we both said we would talk we just—I think that’s why it didn’t work, at the end we just—grew tired of each other, the spark was gone.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe it was the script,” you pointed out. “Everything concerning it.”

Learning he had a lot to do with the fact it was made had made you doubt yourself, the one true accomplishment had come because he had come to the rescue. Although it had been nice it had really started the downfall of your trust.

“No,” he shrugged.

He didn’t want to talk about it. You had had enough talks about the script, over the fact you wrote it and then regretted it. Over filming and the input he had in the movie, how the character had more in depth than before.

Over the fact he had come to your rescue because it hadn’t been good enough. That one specially had been the start of your downfall. Seemed that when you learned about it, you had completely gone mental. Though, it had come from his heart, he didn’t understand why you were angry.

You had always asked him not to ever give a hand with your writing, if you wanted to succeed it would be for your own accomplishments.

Then again, there was also this side that loved he had helped.

Truth is, it hadn’t affected your relationship, but it had affected your own self trust. And if you can’t trust yourself, however will you trust someone else?

Enough talks had been had.

“No,” Tom started. “We were guilty. Both of us, as if we were making it up for past mistakes. I never stopped thinking about what Tim said, and I think that’s why I always tried making it up for all the other times I hurt you. And then you tried making it up for the script, or—Whatever, it was a relationship built up on guilt.”

“Yeah, I think,” you whispered almost not wanting to be heard, “we both had things to learn about ourselves, and forgive ourselves first… and the timing was wrong.”

Tom shrugged, “Isn't it always wrong with us?”

Time was your true enemy. Or maybe it was easier to blame time rather than yourselves. Time was nothing.

It had been you and your pride or your fear, or whatever you came up with now.

However, there was some truth in that statement. Maybe in the past few months it had been time.

When you had told James and Harry you might want to get back together, Tom was dating.

When you were dating, Harry had told you he was thinking about it.

But what about now? Neither of you were dating, you were single and every odd could push you both to be together. Yet…You were not.

How disappointing, you would always think. Such a long story to end up like this.

How disappointing, really.

“No,” he stated, once again. “It’s not time. The problem might be we are the most stupid people to walk on earth.”

“Sounds reasonable,” you said. You nudged him, “look at us now, though, able to talk.”

“I like where we are, yeah,” Tom commented. “I think we are in a good place, we trust each other, we are friends, good friends, we take care, we hang out. We talk. And actually talk.”

You were focusing on the road, mainly, but your heart wanted to say more things. “Yeah.”

“There’s something bothering you,” Tom stared, intrigued.

“I don’t like you avoiding me,” you stated. “I really can’t stand it.”

“I won’t avoid you, then.”

Then, it was quiet. And it didn’t matter, you enjoyed moments of silence, and it wasn’t awkward. Both of you had learned that sometimes you just don’t have to say a word.

But you had to, in fear he would feel you were angry at the previous conversation.“It’s not even all songs I like,” you pointed out.

“Hm?”

“The playlist,” you decided you didn’t want to continue that past conversation.

He coughed, “So we are changing the conversation, huh? Well, they are songs that remind me of you but hey!” He nudged you. “Which ones don’t you like?”

So easily changing subjects and getting out a smile.

“I—we can get back to that later,” you turned to him and let out a soft chuckle. “songs that remind you of me?” You smirked, poking his shoulder.

He blushed, rolling his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted defeatedly.

You laughed, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What the fuck! It’s supposed to be sweet!” He complained.

You shrugged. “Or creepy.”

“No, it’s not—“

“I’m kidding I’m—more flattered than spooked—“ you admitted. “So why are you playing it?” You poked his cheek this time and he pushed your hand away.

“Because I’ve noticed you always complain about the music so when I play this you don’t!” He explained, annoyed.

“Oh, so it’s merely to keep me quiet,” you snickered, nodding.

Tom was moving his jaw, “Yes, basically.”

You glanced again, mischievously. “Wasn’t it supposed to be sweet?”

“No.”

You reached for his hair. “Tommy.”

“Don’t Tommy me,” he chuckled. “You called me creepy.”

“Yes, I don’t know how to flirt so I bully you, I thought we had that covered,” you snapped without giving it a second thought. Then completely regretting it.

His smirk was wide now, as he laughed maniacally. “Oh so you’re flirting.”

Your turn to blush had come. “No.”

He grinned. “You are.”

But then it was a miracle, a way to avoid this subject completely because it was not the conversation to be having with the current situation. “Shut up.”

“No, you are trying to flirt with me, I won’t shut up!” He mocked you.

“Shut up!”

“No!”

“Thomas! I think that’s Harry!”

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