#Hair Scrunchies Online

[urbancreative]

Hair scrunchies are back in fashion, and it’s obvious why. Firstly, they’re actually good to your hair-actually gentle-not bad for causing breakage or damage. But more importantly, the uses of hair scrunchies go beyond just keeping your locks up. So, in the top five creative uses for hair scrunchies, let’s see how these lovely accessories could be part of your daily routine. In addition, for those searching for new additions to their collection, you can buy hair scrunchies online such that you’ll get the one that suits your needs.

[clothingfashionsblog]

Shop Women's Scrunchies | Fashionable Scrunchies for Every Outfit At Forever 21

Add a touch of sophistication to your outfit with Forever 21's range of fashionable women's scrunchies. Shop our selection of stylish scrunchies to find the perfect accessory for any look. https://forever21.ae/collections/accessories-scrunchies

[sofia1452]

The Ultimate Guide to Styling Scrunchies for Hair in 2024

Scrunchies for hair have made a massive comeback in recent years, becoming a must-have accessory for every hair type and occasion. Whether you're aiming for a casual, chic, or elegant look, scrunchies offer versatility, protection, and style. In this guide, we'll explore different ways to style scrunchies for hair, why they are superior to regular hair ties, and how to choose the best scrunchie for your hair type.

Why Scrunchies for Hair Are a Must-Have

Scrunchies for hair provide several advantages over traditional hair ties. Unlike tight elastics that can cause breakage, scrunchies are gentler, reducing tension and preventing split ends. They also add a stylish touch to any look, making them a functional and fashionable choice. Here are a few reasons why scrunchies should be your go-to hair accessory:

Less Hair Damage – The soft fabric of scrunchies minimizes hair breakage and prevents creases.

Comfortable Hold – Unlike tight elastics, scrunchies offer a secure yet comfortable grip without pulling.

Trendy and Stylish – Available in various colors, patterns, and materials, scrunchies can enhance any outfit.

Perfect for All Hair Types – Whether you have thick, thin, curly, or straight hair, scrunchies work for everyone.

Eco-Friendly Options – Many scrunchies are now made from sustainable fabrics, making them an environmentally friendly choice.

Different Ways to Style Scrunchies for Hair

Scrunchies for hair can be styled in numerous ways, allowing you to get creative with your hairstyles. Here are some trendy and classic ways to wear them:

1. The Classic Ponytail

A simple ponytail with a scrunchie adds a soft and effortless look. Choose a silk or velvet scrunchie to add a touch of luxury to your everyday style.

2. Messy Bun

A messy bun is perfect for casual outings or work-from-home days. Secure your bun with a scrunchie to create a relaxed, stylish appearance.

3. Half-Up, Half-Down Style

This versatile hairstyle works well for any occasion. Simply pull half of your hair up and secure it with a scrunchie for a chic, playful look.

4. Braided Ponytail

Elevate your regular ponytail by adding a braid before securing it with a scrunchie. This style adds texture and a fun twist to your everyday hairstyle.

5. Low Bun with Scrunchie

For an elegant and sophisticated style, gather your hair into a low bun and wrap a satin scrunchie around it. This is perfect for formal events or a polished office look.

6. Bubble Ponytail

Create a trendy bubble ponytail by adding scrunchies along the length of your ponytail at equal intervals. This fun style is perfect for playful and youthful vibes.

How to Choose the Right Scrunchies for Hair

When selecting scrunchies for hair, consider the following factors:

1. Material Matters

Silk Scrunchies – Best for reducing hair breakage and frizz.

Velvet Scrunchies – Ideal for a stylish, luxurious look.

Cotton Scrunchies – Great for everyday wear and casual styles.

Satin Scrunchies – Perfect for a smooth, glossy finish.

2. Size and Thickness

Thin Scrunchies – Best for fine hair or small sections.

Medium Scrunchies – Suitable for everyday styling.

Oversized Scrunchies – Ideal for bold, statement looks.

3. Color and Design

Neutral tones for a subtle, elegant look.

Bright colors for a fun and energetic vibe.

Patterns and prints for a trendy and unique touch.

Scrunchies for Hair: Best Care Tips

To keep your scrunchies in great condition, follow these care tips:

Wash Regularly – Hand wash or machine wash depending on the fabric.

Air Dry – Avoid excessive heat to maintain the elasticity and quality.

Store Properly – Keep them in a clean, dry place to prevent damage.

Rotate Usage – Using different scrunchies helps extend their lifespan.

Final Thoughts

Scrunchies for hair are more than just a passing trend—they are a practical, stylish, and hair-friendly accessory that suits all hair types and occasions. With endless styling possibilities and various fabric choices, they are the perfect addition to any hair routine. Whether you’re looking for a casual, chic, or elegant hairstyle, a scrunchie can effortlessly elevate your look. So, embrace the scrunchie trend and let your hair shine with comfort and style!

[hairloveindiajaipur]

Right hair accessories can be a game changer in your hair care routine. This blog "Hair Grooming Tools and Accessories: A Comprehensive Guide for Optimal Use" will help you to discover the right tools to enhance your hair care.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Bradford Has a Princess

I used one of the amazing Tim Bradford ideas posted by @nevereclipse for this!! I hope you like it and it's along the lines of what you were thinking!☺️

Pairing: Tim Bradford x younger(24-26y/o)!fem!reader

Summary: Tim Bradford is whipped for you, treats you with nothing but the best princess treatment, and when his fellow officers call him out on it, he realizes how he truly feels about you.

Warnings: fluff! princess treatment and Tim being a SOFTIE™

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

You blow your hair out of your face before you tug it painfully behind your ear.

“Easy,” your boyfriend mutters, reaching over carefully. He gathers your hair much gentler than you had, pulls it loosely behind your ears, and uses the hair tie he wears around his wrist to secure it. “Better?”

You hum before you say, “Thank you, Tim.”

His hand moves down your back, resting comfortably against the base of your spine. After you finish your project, you take a paper towel from the nearby roll and wipe your hands.

“Need anything else?” Tim asks.

You smile over your shoulder as you rest against Tim’s chest. He’s older than you, and though some people might frown upon your relationship, you love him, not only because of the selfless way he treats you. Tim places his arm around your shoulders, then uses his free hand to pull your hand closer to him. He traces his thumb over your knuckles, then looks at your nails as his calloused palm holds you like you are the most precious thing in his life, in the world.

“I can make you an appointment at the nail salon you like,” he offers. “Tuesday?”

Tim shifts his hands, running his fingertips up and down your palm as he smiles.

“I can wait,” you answer. “I actually saw a kit online that lets you make your own nail art. Maybe I should try that next time.”

“Send me the link.”

Tim kisses your temple, then twirls the ends of your hair around his fingers. He decides he could spend forever here and wouldn’t even care what his friends thought about it.

“Tim!” Angela calls. “We’re all going to Andre’s.”

“Actually,” he begins.

“No, you skipped out the last three times, you’re coming with.”

“No arguments,” Nyla adds. “We might even make you pay.”

Tim sighs, his shoulders dropping as he nods. He follows them out of the station and is unsurprised to see Lucy, Nolan, Aaron, and Wesley waiting in the parking lot.

“Tim, you’re coming too?” Wesley asks. “I thought you’d finally sworn off fraternization.”

“Ha ha,” Tim deadpans.

“Can I ride with you?” Aaron asks. “My car’s getting a new wrap and Wesley’s backseat is a little tight with the carseats.”

Tim doesn’t answer but doesn’t say no, so Lucy nods and encourages Aaron to go. Aaron climbs into Tim’s passenger seat and buckles his seatbelt without a word.

“Oh,” he exclaims as Tim backs out of the space. “Who’s the Dior lip gloss belong to?” He lifts the tube out of the floorboard and recognizes it as part of a set his mom has. “This is expensive, they must be missing it.”

“She knows it’s here,” Tim grumbles, extending his hand to take it.

“Your sister?” Aaron guesses as Tim places it in the center console. He sees several other items, like a scrunchie, a receipt, and powder.

“None of your business,” Tim snaps. “Why are you getting an expensive car wrapped, anyway?”

“Because I can.”

Tim and Aaron fall silent, Tim thinking about you as Aaron wonders if the others know about the woman taking up space in Tim Bradford’s truck and in his life.

During your next date night, Tim opens the door for you, then wraps his arm around your waist as you enter the restaurant. He moves to his left to stand slightly behind you as you wait to be seated, and you smile over your shoulder at him.

At your table, Tim pulls your chair out for you, but you stop before you sit when someone says his name. You turn, and Tim’s shoulders tense beneath his blazer.

“Angela,” he greets tightly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on a date,” she answers with a smile. She looks at you before she asks, “And you?”

You sense the tension and interrupt to introduce yourself. You provide your name and shake her hand, then look to Tim.

“My girlfriend,” he tells Angela. “We’re on a date, so…”

“I’ll ask more later then. I mean that Timothy, you have a lot to tell me.” She turns toward you again and says, “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

Alone, you take Tim’s hand across the table and apologize for interrupting him and his friend. He promises that he wasn’t bothered by that and assures you that he wasn’t avoiding introducing you on purpose but was just surprised. You fall into easy conversation, as usual, and the date is over far too soon.

When the waiter leaves the check on the corner of the table, you ask, “Going Dutch?”

“Going insane if you think I’m letting you pay for a date,” Tim mumbles before speaking up to say, “My treat.”

Tim offers his blazer before you walk out into the windy Los Angeles night, and you wrap your hands around his arm as he leads you to his truck. You’ve never felt as loved and as cherished as you do with Tim Bradford.

As you enter Tim’s house, he uses your joined hands to pull you back toward him. He dips his chin, gesturing for you to sit on the couch, then lowers to the table before it. With a gentle touch, Tim runs his hands down your leg, from your knee to your ankle. After he hooks his finger under the strap of your heel, he pulls your foot up, resting your calf on his knee to unhook the small buckle against your ankle and remove your shoe. He repeats the process with the other shoe, then lays his hands on your knees and leans forward.

“Hi,” you whisper with a smile.

Tim smiles in the proximity, then runs his hands up your legs to rest on your thighs.

“I love you,” you add.

“I love you,” he replies before he moves beside you on the couch, cups the back of your neck in his hand, and pulls into a kiss that proves it.

Tim stops mid-step as he enters the roll call room the following morning. Angela and Aaron are perched atop the tables to watch him with matching looks.

“What?” Tim asks.

“You have a girlfriend,” Angela says.

“That I’m thinking you bought Dior for,” Aaron adds.

“Who are you and what did you do with Timothy Bradford?”

“Yes, I have a girlfriend, and I bought her some makeup,” Tim admits. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal?” Aaron repeats incredulously. “You, Tim Bradford, are whipped.”

“He took her to an expensive restaurant last night,” Angela tells Aaron without looking away from Tim. “I bet he footed the bill, too.”

“There is no reason to be discussing this at work,” Tim points out. “So, drop it.”

“Drop what?” Lucy asks from the doorway.

One word, Tim mouths to Aaron. Aaron nods, but Angela smiles. Tim knows he has no power over her, but when she changes the subject, he sighs and nods once. She’ll bring it up again when he least expects it, but for now, the ‘news’ of his ‘being whipped’ for you is contained. He isn’t ashamed of you, of course, but some things need to be private.

Immediately after walking into Tim’s house, he kisses you so hard that you can feel the sticky texture of your lip gloss as it smears from the corners of your lips and onto your chin. When he pulls back, holding you up as you blink at him, breathless, he uses his thumb to wipe away the shiny mess he made.

“I missed you too,” you say.

“I was told today that I’m whipped,” Tim replies.

You furrow your brows, and Tim taps his knuckle against your forehead and smiles as he shakes his head. You relax but hold his side as you wait for more information.

“Aaron and Angela know about you, and he told me I was whipped. I realized that he’s right.”

Terrified that Tim is about to break up with you after this realization, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. He huffs and tugs it free.

“I am more in love with you than I ever dreamed of being capable of. So…”

Tim is clearly trying to find the right words, and you smile as you offer, “Incandescently happy?”

“Completely and incandescently happy,” he agrees. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tim smiles, then notices he disturbed your outfit with his sudden affection. He tugs the ridden-up fabric down over your hips before dragging his fingertips along your upper arm to fix your top.

“Remember when you bought me the makeup wipes?” you ask.

Tim nods and inquires, “Do you need them?”

You try to contain your smile but fail. “No, you just proved you can take off lip gloss without them.”

Tim tugs you closer, hooks his arms under your hips, and lifts you up. You gasp in surprise before gripping his shoulders. After he carries you to the kitchen and sets you on the counter, he takes your shoes off and stands between your legs.

“Should I make dinner or are you going to keep distracting me?”

You tap your finger against your jaw and pretend to ponder the question. “That depends… will your friends still be okay with this relationship when they find out you’re a cradle robber?”

“Maybe I should give you back then.”

You pout, and Tim kisses your forehead before he turns away. He passes you a bouquet of red roses, then sets a glass of your favorite beverage beside you. It’s the response you hoped for, and after you gently place the flowers aside, you pull Tim closer by his collar and smile against his lips.

[stevethomas31]

Find the Perfect Printed Hair Scrunchies Online for Every Occasion

Discover a wide range of stylish printed hair scrunchies online that will add a playful and trendy touch to your hairstyle. Shop now and elevate your hair game effortlessly with these fashionable accessories.

[hairloveindia]

Embrace the Itchy Scalp Drama with HAIR LOVE!

Experience the ultimate Hair Love solution! Embrace the Itchy Scalp Drama with HAIR LOVE, and bid farewell to discomfort with luscious locks!

[rainbowco0]

Shop Online for Statement Scrunchies, Scrunchie Sets, and Scrunchie Headband Sets

Dive into the world of Buy Statement Scrunchies Online at RAINBOW+Co, where every scrunchie narrates a unique story. Their collection is a fashionable blend of style, comfort, and vibrant colours. Each piece is curated to add a spark to your regular outfits, making you stand out in any crowd.

[qpeindiaplatform]

The best platform to sell accessories online with QPe without commission.

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[waitimcomingtoo]

Smell Ya Later

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

Masterlist

Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.

“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.

“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.

“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.

“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.

“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”

“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.

“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”

“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.

“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”

“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.

“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.

“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.

“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.

“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”

“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.

“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.

“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.

“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.

“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.

“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.

“It’s called a jade roller.”

“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.

“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.

“And it works?”

“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.

“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.

“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.

“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.

“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.

“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”

“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.

“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.

“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”

“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.

“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.

“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.

“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.

The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.

“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.

“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.

“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.

“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.

“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“

“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.

“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.

“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”

“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.

“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.

“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.

“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.

“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”

Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.

“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.

“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.

“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.

“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” You wondered.

“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.

“How long has what been going on?”

“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.

“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.

“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.

“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.

“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”

“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.

“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.

“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.

“She has very moving music.” You defended him.

“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.

“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.

“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”

“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.

You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.

“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.

“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”

“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“

“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.

“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.

“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.

“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.

“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.

“What was the good idea before this one?”

“Chips in my sandwich.”

“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.

“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.

“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.

“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.

“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.

“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.

“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”

“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.

“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”

“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”

“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”

“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.

“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.

“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.

“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”

“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.

“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”

“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”

“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands

“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”

“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.

“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”

“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.

“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”

“Really? Never?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”

“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”

“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”

“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”

“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.

“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.

“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.

“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”

“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.

“So?” He asked.

“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”

Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”

“11 guys.” You corrected.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.

“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.

“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”

“Not at school, no.”

“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.

“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.

“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.

“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”

“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.

“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.

“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”

“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”

You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.

“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.

“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.

“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.

“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.

“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you

“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”

You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.

“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.

“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.

“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.

“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.

“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.

“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.

“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”

“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.

“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.

“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”

“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.

“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”

“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.

“It is. But-“

“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.

“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”

“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.

“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”

“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”

“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.

You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.

You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.

“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.

“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.

“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.

“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”

Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.

When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.

“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.

“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.

“You planned this for me?”

“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.

“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.

“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.

“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”

“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.

“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.

“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.

“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.

“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.

“I do like you.” He said quietly.

“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”

“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.

“You like this.” You told him.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.

“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.

“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.

“Why were you in Sephora?”

“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”

“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.

“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”

“I love those.”

“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.

“Very impressive selection.”

“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”

“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”

“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.

“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”

“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”

“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.

“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“

You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.

“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.

“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.

“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.

“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[urbancreative]

Scrunchies are back, and this time, more than ever! This hair accessory is returning, not just for nostalgic appeal but also for its practicality and style. As sustainability grows into a stronger focus within fashion, the eco-friendly scrunchie has emerged as the perfect option for those who want to achieve an environmentally friendly lifestyle without sacrificing fashionable taste. We will give you guidance on how to have cost-effective online hair scrunchies that not only suit your budget but also pass up to eco-conscious standards, including materials and their sourcing.

[baby-alien11]

being the good girl dating Ethan Morales

Since the beggining of high school, well even before that, you were known as the girl who never got in trouble, got good grades and never went to parties, you were always invited, but never attended due to being occupied with school

You use to hang out with Devi, Eleanor and Fabiola because they were nice and study hang outs were always fun

Because of your personality and calmed aura, everyone expected you to date someone similar to you

So, when at the beggining of senior year you and Ethan Morales entered the school holding hands, everyone lost their minds, even the teachers

Theories started to fload almost inmediatly, some said that he lost a bet, others that it was a joke, some that you entered your rebel phase

But in reality, everything was real

Things started during summer when the both of you encounter at a night at a 7/11 where you went to get some snacks for the week, Ethan was there but getting some beers with his fake id

Unfortunately that night, you somehow forgot to take your wallet with you, and in a weird turn of events Ethan who was behind you in the line, pay for your snacks

"So, what's the princess doing this late out of her castle?", Ethan asked before you could leave, "What happened to the guardian dragons?"

"They are out of town", you responded knowing that he was refering to your parents, "And don't call my parents that"

"That doesn't respond my first question"

"I run out of my secret snacks and didn't want to wait until tomorrow"

"In that case, let me see what I just pay"

Without asking for permition, Ethan just started to dig into the bag until he pulled out a package of Sour Patch Kids

"Those are my favourites", you shrugged

"Mines too", Ethan smiled

In response, you also smiled feeling comfortable with him

That was the beggining of a friendship that evolute to a relationship

Even if the school found the relationship weird, you and Ethan were happy with each other

Thanks to you, he started to get better notes at school

And your spanish got better thanks to him

Heaven by Julia Michaels was your official relationship song

If someone ever think of messing with you, the next day or even sooner, the person will have something damaged

While you liked to wear some of his clothes like sweatshirts, frannels or shirts, he liked to wear your scrunchies and hair ties, your accesories like necklaces, bracelets and even some of your earings

Surprisingly, your parents loved him

At first they weren't so sure about the whole thing because of his bad boy look, but after seeing how happy both of you were, they started to accept it

Even if your parents kinda like him, both of you liked when they weren't in town because that meant Ethan spent all of that time in your house

Sex with him was amazing, and got better every single time

When your birthday arrived, he gifted you a Sour Patch plushie that somehow found online

You found that so sweet because it represented the first interaction between you two

He was the kind of guy that would do anything for you, even if it includes let you do a skin care routine on him or watch your favorite show or movie, doesn't matter how corny it is

[datsyuks]

A Little Moment

Summary: A small moment with Quinn after a long day at work.

Quinn hears you come through the door but he doesn't move. He leans his head against the headboard and closes his eyes. Envisioning you hanging up your jacket on the coat rack then bending down to tuck your shoes into the bottom of the shoe rack. Taking the black scrunchie on your wrist and tying your hair up, if you haven’t done that already in the car. The metal details of your purse hitting the kithen counter as you set your purse down. The rattle of your coffee mug hitting the kitchen sink meant that you were almost done. almost to the bedroom. almost to him. and he missed you. He knew by your one word texts today meant that you were swamped at work. He knew that your other coworkers were trying to slide past you for a promotion. He wishes he could bottle up all your worries, but for now he sits on the bed, book in hand, waiting for you. You open the bedroom door and the soft bedside table light hits your face. His eyes snap open and gives you a small smile. He knows you aren't one for much conversation right when you get home from work. You disappear into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Not being able to focus on the book in his hand, Quinn closes his eyes again and hopes you notice he set your towel in the towel warmer that just came in from online and set some chocolate chip cookies he got from the market on the counter. Meer minutes feel like seconds when youre in the bathroom because soon you come out and toss your clothes in the hamper. "Hey baby," he says softly. You climb onto the bed, crawling up to him and lightly kiss him on his cheek, his short stubble is rough against your lips, "hi." Your voice is soft, exhausted. He dog-ears the book page and sets it down on the otherside of him as you lay your head down on his chest. His other arm wraps around you, slowly scratching up and down your back. Soothing your mind from the terrible day. You close your eyes and snuggle closer to his chest. The two of you lay in silence, just listening to each others breath. His hand travels all the way up your spine to your hair, gently massasing your head. The both of you didn't need to talk. You knew that you should listen to Quinn and get a better job, a job closer to his apartment where you spend a majority of your days and nights in, a job where you can get time off so he can whisk you away to long weekends at the lake house. But now you lay on his chest as his fingertips knead out all your worries, because you know the place your truly safe is in his arms.

[finelinefae]

Bestie I literally just read flower and I’m OBSESSED and I can imagine y/n trying to turn tattooh into a swiftie whilst he tries to explain the rap beef to y/n 😭

no bc this was such a good and unique idea i had to write a little something for it !!

wordcount: 1.3k

. . .

“Okay, so what was it again?” Y/N asked, a dip between her brows as she fastened the bow on a bouquet of flowers she was completing for a baby shower they had been invited to next weekend. 

“So Kendrick-”

“The guy who featured on Bad Blood?” Y/N double-checked. 

Harry chuckles, “I mean he’s also a Pulitzer Prize winner but that too.” She nods, waiting for him to continue, “So he featured on a song with a bunch of other artists basically taking aim at J Cole and Drake-”

“Oh I know him, he posted a picture of him and Taylor on his Instagram that one time two years ago,” Y/N says. 

Harry nods, desperate to finish explaining to her the current online events he had been obsessively keeping track of over the past twenty-four hours, “Right, right. So anyway,” Harry continued to explain the ongoing tension in the world of rap circling the internet with Y/N nodding a long, nothing but confusion on her face. 

Amongst many things, Y/N and Harry’s music tastes were polar opposites. Whilst Y/N loved pop - Taylor Swift, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo - Harry tended to lean more towards alternate music, genres like rap and grunge or anything before the 2000’s. He loved rock bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam. On their first New Year’s Eve together, they’d spent the entire night at a karaoke bar in the city, four Shania Twain sons deep by the time the clock hit midnight. 

Although they were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to their music tastes, they loved talking to each other about what they were listening to. They would share their weekly Spotify stats over dinner at the end of each week and make playlists for each other to listen to whenever they were taking the train somewhere. 

As Harry finished explaining, Y/N picked up the bouquet and carried it over to where he was sitting, placing it on the table in front of him. 

Even as he was speaking, Harry automatically reached out to slide an arm around her waist beneath her fuzzy, pink cardigan rubbing circles with his thumb over the exposed bit of skin on her hip. 

“That sounds… really complicated, H.” Y/N sighed, “I’d hate to get into an argument like that.”

Harry smiled at how adorable she looked with pouty lips and concern on her face, “Lucky for you flower, y’ much too difficult to get into any kind of argument with.” 

Harry and Y/N rarely had major arguments. Typically, their disagreements were over minor or unimportant matters, often ending with Harry showering her with kisses as an apology or Y/N clinging to him until he forgave her.

“And he wants Drake to die?” Y/N gasps, “That’s awful.”

Harry nods, watching her hands carefully move around the flowers in the bouquet to get them in the perfect place. “Hmm, ‘s not the nicest thing to say to a person,”

Y/N sighed, sitting on his thigh when her legs got too tired from standing. His lips puckered against the base of her exposed neck from where she had tied her curls up with a scrunchie. He inhaled the floral perfume he had bought her for Valentine’s Day. She was obsessed with it, dousing herself in it every morning and before she went to bed.

“Have you listened to Taylor’s new album by the way?” Y/N wondered, turning to hook her leg over his other thigh so she was straddling him. She was pressed between him and the worktop, her arms moving around his neck and fingers fiddling with the curly baby hairs by his neck. 

Harry winced, “Ummm…”

“Harry,” Y/N huffed, “You said you would listen to it so I could talk you through it track by track.” 

“I know! I’m getting to it, y’know I’ve jus’ been busy this week.” Harry stated, which was true. It had been the school holidays and a lot more customers had visited both their shops than usual. 

“The album came out weeks ago,” Y/N said, pushing herself off of him to start putting everything away for tomorrow. 

Before she could take one step, Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, “I will, baby - promise, I’ll get to it and then y’ can talk for as long as y’ want all about it. Y’ can even put your pj’s on and show me y’ little dance y’ used to do when I heard y’ havin’ y’ little solo parties before we met,” He smirked against her neck. 

Y/N blushed, clearing her throat and moving away. Her eyes narrowed, “You better.” She walked back to the front desk, “And they weren’t solo parties! Marsh was there too,” She said, referring to her little cat. 

. . .

During her lunch break, Y/N reached for her bag to eat the pasta salad Harry had prepared for her that morning before they left for work. When she unzipped the bag, she found his Star Wars lunchbox inside instead of her own.

She slid off her seat and walked straight to his tattoo shop next door, knowing he had probably mixed up their lunches and ended up with her Cinnamoroll one.

She pushed the door open, expecting to hear the strums of an electric guitar or the low grovel of an indie rock band playing over the Bluetooth speakers. But instead, she was shocked to hear the voice of her favourite singer. 

Her heart soared even before she saw him as she walked past the front desk. "Hey Mike, what's with the music?" She asked as if she didn’t know already.

“Harry insisted he put it on this morning. You have to go in there and tell him it’s killing the vibe.” Mike grumbled, taking a puff of the vape in his hand. 

Y/N smiled, “I quite like it.”

“Of course you do,” He rolled his eyes. 

Y/N walked through to the back rooms where she heard the steady sounds of a tattoo gun. Her eyes found Harry, deeply focused on the design he was tattooing on someone’s wrist. 

Y/N stood to one side and waited patiently, “Okay that’s all done,” Harry clicked his tongue, pushing his chair away and wrapping up the tattoo for the customer. 

After the customer had left, she stepped into the room, “Hi Harry,” She beamed, floating over to him. He looked so cute and cuddly today, wearing a grey sweatshirt and black trousers with his usual Doc Martens and a navy-coloured beanie to cover his curls. 

A smile carved onto Harry’s face, “Hi flower,” He removed his gloves and met her halfway, pulling her into a hug and kissing her softly. 

“Missed you,” She murmured against his lips. 

“Miss you always, flower.” He brushed a loose curl behind her ear, “Thought I wasn’t meeting y’ ‘til later?”

“Oh,” She pulled out the lunchbox and handed it to him, “I think we got our lunches mixed up,” 

Harry furrowed his brows, grabbing the plastic bag with his lunch inside only to find her pink lunchbox instead. He chuckles, “Ah, must have been the early morning getting to me.”

“S okay,” Y/N grins, “I like your music choice by the way.”

Harry smirked, “Promised a girl something,”

“Oh really?” Y/N’s grin deepened, “Well I’m sure she’ll be very happy you kept your promise.”

“I’ve been thinking about her all morning, getting to hear her talk non-stop later about her favourite songs.” He says, her arms sliding up his torso to meet at the back of his back. 

She stood on her toes, his head dropping and their noses brushing together, “All morning?” 

“All the time,” He breathes, “Can’t seem to stop thinking about her since I met her.”

“Hmm, well she’s a very lucky girl.” Y/N murmurs.

His lips met hers, the low light above shining down on them as the Tortured Poets Department came to an end and ‘Lover’ played on shuffle over the speakers of his tattoo parlour. 

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[hunnysnoops]

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Twelve: Slip of the Tongue

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

You make me feel like I've done wrong. Slip of the tongue. I've taken it back, what's done is done.

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: After running for years, your legs finally give out.

Warnings: Blood / crude language and humour

MASTERLIST

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

You've been avoiding Kyle ever since that almost kiss. The memory of that moment hangs in your mind like the smell of rain after a storm, making you feel awkward and unsure every time you think about it. Right now, you're pacing around your bedroom, trying to focus on anything but him. The soft hum of your computer and the comforting clutter of your room usually help, but today, they don't.

You walk back and forth, your feet hitting the hardwood floor with each step. You had skipped dinner to eat at your desk to scroll online forums and try to figure out what to do. Every time your family went to visit the Broflovskis, you would fake an illness to avoid the thing you dreaded most. 

It didn't help that summer would be drawing to a close and the days until school started were cutting down. The whole thing made you nervous. You had blocked him on everything the moment your phone had service again.

It wasn't Kyle himself that made your stomach churn, the thought of being vulnerable almost caved your head in. 

The posters on your walls seem to mock you with their silent, unchanging presence. You run your fingers through your hair, your mind replaying that day over and over. The way he leaned in, the way your heart pounded, and the way you pulled back at the last second. It's all too much.

Usually, you weren't one to be this fragile but walking circles in your bedroom, you cradled yourself like a glass statue. It was like you might shatter at the thought of being honest.

You hoped that you cranked your music up loud enough that no one in the house could hear you frantically pacing. You were sure the inside of your mouth was mangled from the amount you had been chewing on your cheek for the past week and a half. 

It was clear you weren't good at processing your emotions, it wasn't a skill you ever learned growing up and now you suffered greatly for it. You were so aware of everything but didn't know how to put your thoughts into words like they were knotted and caught in your throat. 

The last guy you dated ended horrifically in tenth grade, due to your lack of being able to articulate feelings; Jason had been crying on the edge of his bed and you stood awkwardly watching him like he was a zoo animal. You almost wanted to scream in your blue and white striped boxer shorts and the very T-shirt you got when you went to the concert with Kyle.

The heat outside was almost insufferable and creeping its way into your bedroom since your dad refused to turn on the AC and duct taped the thermostat so neither you or your brother would raise the bill hence the very mismatched outfit you were wearing. Bebe's cherry-patterned scrunchie was still on your wrist from the late-night fast food drive you endured the night prior.

The way he leaned in, the way your heart pounded, and the way you ducked down at the last second. It's all too much. You like Kyle, really like him, but the thought of being vulnerable and what a relationship might do to your family terrifies you. All you needed was the rest of the summer to make up your mind. 

Suddenly, your dad's voice breaks through your thoughts and the loud music that was almost blowing out your eardrums, calls up the stairs. "Jellybean, Kyle's here for you!"

Panic sets in, like ice water coursing through your veins. Your heart races, and you feel a lump in your throat. The last thing you want is to face him now. You glance around your room frantically, your eyes landing on the open window. Without a second thought, you scramble to your feet and head for it.

Your hands tremble as you push the window open wider, the warm breeze hitting your face. You lean out, gauging the drop to the ground. It's a long fall, but the hedge below looks like it might cushion you. You swing one leg over the sill, feeling the rough edge of the window frame against your thigh. Your breath quickens as you pull the other leg over, now perched precariously on the edge.

For a moment, you hesitate, looking back into the familiar comfort of your room. Your feet find purchase on the small ledge below, and you inch your way down, body pressed close to the house. Your hands scramble for the drain pipe immediately. You weren't close to the ground but you were once again wild and desperate. 

Shuffling along the edge, you see your neighbour pause where he mows his lawn to watch you. You force a smile and wave to him like this is an everyday activity. You can hear thumps sounding upstairs by your room, Kyle's car is parked out front, your own is stuck behind your mother's and without waiting another beat you grab the drain pipe with your other hand as well to keep you steady as you awkwardly slide down. 

You thought for a moment that the pipe might rip from the house and send you spiralling to the ground but between the chance of falling to the lawn or getting caught in this act, you chose the former. 

You land with a soft thud, the hedge rustling beneath you. The impact sends a jolt through your body, but you barely notice. Quickly, you crawl out of the hedge, branches scratching your arms, and crouch behind it, your heart pounding in your ears. You listen intently, waiting to see if Kyle or your dad will come looking for you. You can hear a knock on your bedroom door until it inevitably creaks open. 

Knowing you can't stay here, you gather your courage and glance around to make sure no one has seen you. You slip through the side yard, the grass damp under your feet, and break into a run. Your neighbour still watches you, his wife joining him on the lawn where they try to decode exactly what you're doing. The world seems to narrow down to the sound of your rapid breaths and the pounding of your feet against the pavement.

In the moment you weren't sure where you were headed and began to think of all those who live close to you- Wendy. You knew she was home, she sent you a picture of her cat only minutes before your grand escape. 

Growing up you were always told the best way to win a fight is to not be in one, this felt similar. You knew that no matter what this would end up in an argument with Kyle but not if you were able to outrun it until it simmered out like none of it happened at all.

The pavement was undoubtedly cutting your feet, maybe you should've thought ahead and kept a pair of shoes in your room for situations like this, albeit not very common. You had more adrenaline in your veins than when you had faced life or death at the paws of a raccoon.

As you run, you wish for nothing more than a cigarette, just something to take the edge off so you aren't shaking with nerves. You thought about what Kyle would do or what he had done when he was that you had disappeared from your bedroom. What would your dad do? Probably assume that you had left hours before and he didn't notice. 

Finally, Wendy's house comes into view. Relief floods through you, giving you a final burst of energy. You sprint the last few yards, your breath coming in short gasps as you reach her front door, your chest heaving. You knock urgently, praying she's home. After what feels like an eternity, the door swings open, and Wendy's concerned face appears.

"What's wrong?" she asks, taking in your flushed face and frantic eyes. She was wearing a purple cardigan overtop of her denim shorts and white tank top, he silky black hair pulled away from her face in a claw clip that matched her small silver hoop earrings. She looked a lot more cohesive than you did. 

You take a deep breath, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Kyle almost kissed me at the lake when we were swimming in our underwear. I think he was going to, but I pulled away. The next morning he didn't bring it up but he kept smiling and trying to hold my hand and giving me stuff and I didn't know what to do! You know I don't know what to do, I'm not nice like his other girlfriends. I just got really freaked out and stopped talking to him and after we went home I blocked him on everything and I haven't seen him since. He was so sweet it's making my teeth rot. And now he's at my house, and I don't know what to do. I like him, Wendy, but I'm so scared. I'm a ruiner, I'll ruin everything and he'll go back to hating me and I'll just see him once a year around the holidays with his wife and kids and I'll just be so bitter staring at him and just thinking 'What if?' like what if I was the one who went to house warming parties with him but I won't because I couldn't sort myself out in highschool but then there's if I do tell him it's just a crazy cycle of it never working out and there's always going to be that unspoken thing between us of what was almost there. My dad told me he was there to see me and I fucking scaled the side of my house and ran here barefoot just so I wouldn't have to see him."

"Oh my god," Wendy mutters "Okay, it's fine, just calm down a bit and we can talk in my room," She gently grabs your bicep to guide you up the stairs.

You nod, beginning to follow her though your eye catches on a black mop of hair peaking over the back of the couch. You freeze  "Hey, Stan," You clear your throat in an attempt to sound casual 

Slowly, he turns his head to look at you, his face still and unreadable "Hey."

"Who- uh, are you texting?" You try for a friendly smile but it comes across as looking a little psychotic. 

He stays quiet, placing his phone on the coffee table slowly, his eye contact not moving from yours. "No one."

"Do you mind if I see your phone really quick?" You approach him steadily, forcing yourself or at least trying to be calm. 

"Yeah, I do mind."

The phone dings "Stan, don't look at that message- hey," You point a finger at him like he's a toddler and you're trying to keep him away from an electrical fire. "Stan, I'm not fucking around.”

Before Stan can grab his phone, you dive for it, snatching it off the table and backing away from Stan while you read them, quickly skimming over the messages between him and Kyle. It wasn't brief, Stan had of course informed his best friend about the obscene amount of information you dumped onto Wendy and that you were there. "What the fuck?" You turn to look at him.

"He's my best friend," Stan defends himself. "Can you please give me my phone back, dude?" You take it upon yourself to type out a quick message for Kyle from Stan, along the lines of 'I hope you die, lose this number' before dropping the phone on an armrest and heading for the laundry room at the speed of sound.

Wendy was uncommonly at a loss for words, eyes shooting between Stan gripping his hair while he read what you sent and you tearing the laundry room apart. 

"You traitor asshole cunt!" You shout while rummaging through the dryer. The clothes inside were still fresh and warm, you grab the first two socks you see, one of them a bright red knee-high sports sock, the other one is ankle length and covered in little prints of puppies. You didn't care, yanking them on over your feet while you hop to the shoe rack. "Wendy, which pair do you care about the least?"

"Maybe the boots-

Before she could even finish her sentence you were pulling on the brown leather cowboy boots that were mid-length on your shins "I'll bring these back later!" You yell, running back out the door. "Love you, Wendy. kill yourself, Stan!" 

While running away from Wendy's without bothering to shut the door, you fumble for your phone and try to dial up Red whilst manoeuvring around trash bins and bikers so you don't take yourself out. 

"Hey," Red's voice comes through, light and lazy. "Why are you calling me? You never call me."

"It's honestly so fucked up, I might throw up if I talk about it," You pant into the phone, a little short-breathed from the excess cardio while you ran nowhere in particular "Essentially, I hate Stan Marsh as of now."

"What an asshole," Red says. The two of you were like the blind leading the blind. You didn't need to give her an in-depth backstory, if you said you hated someone then she hated them too "Fuck him, where are you?" 

"Running away from Wendy's," You look around for some sign of where you are, spotting a traffic sign over an intersection "Uh- I'm on Walden."

"Are you actually running?"

"Yes!"

"How bad is your situation?"

"So bad, dude."

"Like bad for a normal person or bad for you because you kinda think everything is awful," You can hear the sound of a huge splash and cheering over the line.

"It's actually bad this time," You failed to mention that you screwed yourself over.

"Okay, well, I'm not far off Walden right now," She moves the phone away from her to mutter a question to someone else "I'm pre-gaming with some friends, it's getting kinda crazy-" She stops mid-sentence to laugh at something, you can hear the smile in her voice "I'll send you the address. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay, thanks," You utter, hanging up and copying the address into your phone. Your head would swerve around to be sure Kyle's car wasn't in sight.

The destination wasn't far from your initial spot. The neighbourhood seemed unusually quiet for a street that was supposed to be housing a rager. The houses are quaint, with well-manicured lawns and the soft glow of porch lights flickering as dusk settles in. You glance at the address Red sent you again, reassuring yourself that you're in the right place.

Slowly you approach the house, a charming two-story with a wide front porch adorned with potted plants and a welcome mat that reads 'WELCOME wait, who did you vote for?'

Feeling a bit uncertain, you decide to call Red, phone pressed to your ear as you walk up the front steps. She answers on the second ring, her voice bright over the sounds of music and chatter in the background. "What's up, whore? where are you?"

"Are you sure this is the right address?"

"Yeah, we're in the backyard, just let yourself in," She says through static. On the other end you can hear laughing and shouting, she excuses herself before hanging up.

With confidence slightly restored, you push the door open, immediately met by the sound of laughter carrying through the home. The scent of home-cooked food fills the air—roast chicken, freshly baked bread, and something sweet and cinnamon-y you can't quite place. Children dart around your legs, laughing and chasing each other, while an older couple sits on a couch, reminiscing over a photo album.

As you make your way through the house, your eyes widen in surprise when you notice a collection of shotguns mounted on the wall. Your heart skips a beat, and a wave of nervousness washes over you.

"Who are you and why are you in my home?" You hear a gruff voice from behind you and turn to see an alarmingly large man. He was taller than anyone you had seen, with a bald shiny head, and muscles bulging out of his white polo. 

You glance past him and notice the decorations—a banner that reads 'Happy Family Reunion!' strung across the living room, balloons bobbing gently in the corner, and framed photos of smiling faces you don't recognize lining the walls.

In the living room sits a large group of people, almost every single one blonde, they all stare at you from wherever they are in the room. Glancing back at the threatening display of guns and the photo of the man in front of you happily smiling while he holds up the corpse of a deer, you fumble for an answer "The entertainment, your wife hired me."

"My wife passed away last year."

"Oooohhhhh my god," You mutter and your eyes widen slightly but you make it a point to stay relaxed "That's what I am, she spoke to me from beyond the grave and guided me here, she has messages for you."

He looks like he's about to say something but a woman shoots up from the coach, a sharp exhale escaping through her lips. "What did she say?" Her eyes are wide, her face in shock as she beckons you into the living room.

With a dramatic flair, you place your hand on your forehead and close your eyes. "I'm getting a strong feeling," you say, your voice low and mysterious. This was your absurd and desperate attempt not to end up like the deer in the photo. It didn't help that you were dressed like a blind child who picked their own clothing. 

The family members around you fall silent, watching with curious expressions. You open your eyes slowly, pretending to gaze into a distant realm. "I see... a long journey ahead for someone in this room," you continue, pointing vaguely.

A woman wearing a turquoise blouse leans forward eagerly, careful not to spill her wine. "Really? What else do you see?"

You touch your hands to your head and close your eyes, furrowing your brows the same way you had seen fortune tellers do it in the movies "I'm getting the letter N, is there an N name anywhere here?"

Someone raises her hand, eyebrows drawing in slight worry "I'm Nancy."

You open your eyes and point at her "Nancy, you are going to suffer a terrible and painful death."

Nancy squeaks, a hand flying over her mouth while a man gently rubs soothing circles on her back. Everyone stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue with eager eyes. "Keep going," The man urges you.

"I see flying, wings- no! A plane," You say opening your eyes "Does anyone have a trip coming up?"

An older man raises his hand "My wife and I are going to Quebec."

"Why would you go to Quebec on purpose?" You wrinkle your nose, muttering before getting back in character "Cancel your trip or you will get diseased and you will die."

Gasps sound from the mini crowd in front of you, each of them murmuring to another. "What will happen in Quebec?"

"An evil French Canadian waiter will spit in your drink and will give you herpes."

They gasp again "How would herpes kill me?"

You shrug "You will die for unrelated reasons but you will regret Quebec on your deathbed." 

"What do you see for me?" A woman asks, a long floral sundress cascades down to her ankles. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her striking blue eyes shake you to your core. 

"I see a man in an army uniform, yes, he has short hair, wait-no, it's not an army uniform, it's a prison uniform. You will marry a convicted felon," You say simply, giving her a little smile. 

A woman with a necklace that reaads 'Sarah' looks at you, her eyes wide with fascination. "What about me? Can you see anything for me?"

You nod, feeling more confident in your role. "I see... a new opportunity coming your way, something related to your passion," you say, seeing a photo of her on the wall at a book signing with an author you didn't recognize. "It will be challenging, but very rewarding."

"Oh my goodness," Sarah smiles, nudging the girl next to her.

With every passing second, you just wanted to leave more and more, the stress only continued to build as lies spilled from your lips. You look at the walls, so many photos of the family going to church and spending Christmas together, one of them in a manger, dressed for the nativity. "I see something divine." 

At your words, everyone is captivated once more. They were hanging on every word like it was gospel, sipping their glasses of wine and bottles of beer. 

"It's holy- yes, very holy," You nod, eyes pressed shut while you randomly gesture into the air in front of you. You gasp sharply, one hand going to your heart "It's a message from the son of the lord!" You exclaim.

"What did he say?" One of the women sits up, the same one who insisted you (a stranger) entertain them by reading their fortunes "Tell me now, please."

"Jesus is going to be in Nashville on September 11th," You lower your hands from your head. 

The room falls quiet, only hushed whispers between a handful of people "Jesus is gonna be in Tennessee on 9/11?" The buff man asks. 

"Um, yeah, yup, that is what I said," Now do you realize what you said and all you can do is pray he doesn't take one of those guns on the wall and stuff you like taxidermy. 

"Whose ready for drinks?" A woman comes in with a smile, carrying a little tray of shot glasses. Looking closer at the glasses you can see each of them with a little print of the confederate flag on top.

"Oh my god," You mutter under your breath and cough to hide your panic. Thinking quickly, you grip your hair with one hand, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your free hand grasp at the air "That's it..." You say, quietly "The void has gone black."

Some of them sound disappointed, others indifferent but one particular skeezy man catches your attention. You hadn't noticed him watching the entire thing all eery like he had been lurking in the shadows. 

"Actually," You say. The lanky man stands against a wall, nursing a beer bottle and grinning at you in a way that makes you squirm. His hair is so greasy that you thought you could've fried a fish on it, on top of his blue jeans there are little crusty white stains, a suspicious wet spot in an unfortunate area. You point at him "Check his hard drive." 

You don't want to spend another second in that room, quickly you dash away while the attention turns on the creepy man. Back down the corridor, the same way you came in, you pass decoration that is very telling to the family's nature, you missed it completely on the way in. 

While scurrying out of the house, you pass the liquor cabinet. Snatching a black leather purse off the counter and dumping out the contents, you look around and quickly squat down. You almost feel bad stealing then look above the cabinet to see the confederate flag hung beneath a sleek frame then you don't feel so bad. 

Quickly and quietly, you slip a bottle of whiskey and another vodka into the bag. Just as before you shut the cabinet, you glance around once more and snatch the fancy tequila in the blue, white, and yellow bottle, intricate designs over the glass. You couldn't show up to a party empty-handed.

Just as you reach the lawn without being caught, your phone rings in your pocket. To no surprise, it's Red "Hey, I totally gave you the wrong address."

"Oh, really?" Sarcasm drips from your tone as you continue moving, looking back at the house. 

"Yeah, so- we're on our way to the party, we can meet there if you want the address."

"Are you going to send me to a rednecks house again?"

"No, what the fuck happened?" She asks, tone shifting slightly. 

"I'll tell you when I get there," You exasperate, picking up your pace. "Just send me it- no, turn on your damn location and I'll find you, okay?"

“Oki doke, whatever you wanna do," She mumbles into the phone, sending you a link and hanging up. 

You glance at her location. Red really wasn't far if you took a shortcut and didn't have to go all the way around the streets. If you could cut through two backyards, you were basically there.

You turn down a narrow alley, the dim light casting long shadows from the overhanging branches. The smell of freshly cut grass mingles with the faint aroma of a barbecue, and you find a low fence that seems easy enough to climb over. You hoist yourself up, swinging one leg over, then the other, and drop softly onto the other side.

As you straighten up, you realize you've landed in the middle of a children's birthday party. Brightly coloured balloons are tied to chairs, streamers hang from the trees, and kids in costumes are running around, shrieking with laughter. The juxtaposition of the chaotic, cheerful scene against your inner turmoil is almost surreal.

Before you can backtrack, a woman in her late thirties with a stern expression approaches you. She is carrying a plate of cupcakes, and her brow furrows as she takes in your dishevelled appearance.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" she asks, her tone sharp and unwelcoming.

"Mommy, is that a bad person?" One of the little girls points at you, her lip trembling.

"Really? A bad person? That is so corny."

"Excuse me," The mother grabs her daughter, pulling her close to her while staring at you with furrowed eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"I'm your worst nightmare," You say though everyone stares at you, some of them reaching for their phones to call for help "Kidding, I just have really poor humour."

"Is she homeless?" The daughter looks up to her mother, eyes wide and her voice squeaky. 

"That's just rude, man, like straight up," You shake your head slightly "You should teach your kid some manners."

"I will not have someone on drugs tell me how to raise my child," Her voice rises.

"I am not on drugs, for once, actually," You say and regret it the second it's out. 

"Leave," She says plain and firmly. You didn't need to dissect her words to figure out why she didn't want you there. 

"Yeah, okay," As you turn to leave, your eyes fall on the plate of cupcakes the woman is still holding. They look delicious, and in a moment of defiance and impulse, you reach out and grab one.

"Mommy, she's taking a cupcake," A little boy wearing a Bluey shirt says. His voice is whiney and his little potbelly spills from the short. 

"Look at you, I don't think you need any more cupcakes," You retort. 

"You have a big head," He puts his pudgy hands on his hips.

You lick some frosting from the top of the cupcake "Yeah? Well, you're fat so good luck in high school." 

The woman's eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger, but she doesn't say anything as you quickly back away, cupcake in hand. You make your way toward the gate at the far end of the yard, feeling the weight of their stares on your back.

Leaving the gate of the backyard party behind, you step back onto the sidewalk, your senses heightening with each step. The cool evening air brushes against your skin, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and faint hints of barbecue smoke from neighbouring houses. The repetitive sound of Wendy's cowboy boots tapping against the pavement echoes in the stillness, punctuated only by the occasional chirp of crickets.

You quicken your pace, driven by a mix of urgency and nervous energy. Your feet move with purpose, yet the path seems to stretch endlessly before you. The streetlights cast elongated shadows, flickering slightly as they illuminate your way. You pass rows of tidy houses, their windows glowing warmly, each one a silent witness to the private lives within.

With each stride, your thoughts race. The embarrassment of crashing the children's birthday party lingers in your mind, mingling with the apprehension of facing Kyle. 

You take a sharp turn down a narrow, tree-lined street. The leaves rustle gently above you, creating a soothing canopy that momentarily eases your racing heart. You glance up, catching glimpses of the darkening sky through the foliage, the first stars beginning to twinkle.

Your breathing steadies, matching the rhythm of your footsteps. You focus on the sound, using it to ground yourself, to keep the swirling emotions at bay. Each step forward feels like a small victory, a deliberate choice to move past the fear and confusion.

The houses become less familiar as you venture deeper into the neighbourhood, the route to the party becoming clearer in your mind. You check your phone for the address, the glow of the screen illuminating your face. The party is only a few blocks away now, and you feel renewed. 

You move with more ease, your steps lighter despite the weight of your emotions that clung to your heels like mud. The distant sound of music and laughter guides you, growing louder with each passing minute.

Finally, you turn a corner and see the house, festooned with strings of lights that glimmer in the fresh darkness and the unmistakable buzz of a gathering in full swing. The sun had just finished setting and you made it. Salvation at last. 

The house is packed with people, the pulse of the music vibrating through the walls and floor. The laughter and conversations swirl around you, but your thoughts keep drifting back to that moment by the lake, the way Kyle's hand felt warm in yours, the look in his eyes before you backed away. 

You spot a group of friends near the kitchen and make your way over, joining their animated discussion. You laugh at their jokes and nod at their stories, but it's all a bit of a blur. Your mind is elsewhere, caught in a loop of what-ifs and maybes.

"Oh my god, hey!" Nichole smiles brightly though it falters when her eyes rake up your body "Why are you dressed like an escaped felon?"

"It'll make me mad if I talk about it," You say simply and pass her to grab a diet Coke from the fridge. 

"What happened?" Annie asks "Red was telling me that there was a thing going on with Stan and you were running from the cops or something." Both of them are done up well, Annie had straightened her hair and Nichole has taken hers out of her braids after months. 

"I'm not running from anyone," You place the leather purse on the kitchen island and begin taking the bottles of liquor out, your friend's eyes widening at the seemingly never-ending supply. 

"You are seriously freaking me out right now," Nichole says, picking up one of the bottles and reading the alcohol percentage "Where did you get this?"

"Don't worry about it," You wave it off. 

"Who's purse is that?" She asks again, eyes narrowing at the black leather.

You shrug, taking a swig of your Diet Coke, it was lukewarm but you still preferred it to the liquor that would surely amplify your awful state and leave you feeling more paranoid than you already were. "Yours if you want it," You push the bag toward her.

Nichole picks it up, eyes widening as she inspects it "Is this a real Birkin?" 

"Shit," You suck a sharp breath through your teeth "I dunno, is it?"

Annie quickly looks over, "Oh my god!" She squeals, eyes lighting up as she leans close to Nichole to look at the bag. She's wearing a pink tank top and low-waisted jeans, effortlessly pretty "Where the hell did you find this?"

"I thrifted it." You lie nonchalantly.

"I can actually keep this?" Nichole holds it close to her chest, hugging it almost protectively. She was in denim shorts and a yellow bikini top though you weren't sure she would even go in the pool. 

"Yeah, I don't care," You did care a little. If it was a big deal to them you couldn't imagine the bag you had stolen was cheap and wanted to keep it away from you, the faux fortune teller who interrupted a family reunion. 

"Are those Wendy's boots?" Annie furrows her eyebrows, looking down at your shoes while Nichole jumps happily up and down with her new bag. 

"Yeah, I had to stop at her place earlier."

"Why didn't you just drive with her?" 

"What?" Your face drops.

"Yeah, she should be here soon," Annie brushes a strand of hair away from her face, revealing large golden hoop earrings. 

"With Stan?" You ask, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

"Yeah?" 

You're caught off guard by someone nudging your arm, there stands Tolkien smiling at the three of you "Hey, I didn't know you were coming."

"Me neither," You answer, truthfully. You didn't even know whose house you were at, you just assumed that you probably wouldn't know them anyway.

Tolkien's eyebrows furrow as he looks down at your choice of clothing. You brace yourself for another insult but are met with another response "I think Kyle's wearing the same shirt, did you guys match on purpose?"

"Excuse me?" You poke your head out of the kitchen and glance around, noticing something that sends a fresh wave of embarrassment through you. Both of you are wearing the same band T-shirt. You glance down at your shirt, the familiar logo staring back at you, then look up at Kyle, who seems like he hasn't noticed you yet. He talks animatedly to a couple of people you aren't familiar with. "Tolkien, I need you to switch shirts with me."

"What?" He raises an eyebrow "Are you crazy?"

"Yes!" You say, scuttling deeper into the kitchen to be sure he can't see you "Please?"

"No way, dude."

"Annie?" You turn your attention to her.

She wrinkles her nose at the print of the rotting zombie on your band shirt, it wasn't even close to her style "I'm okay." 

Nichole wasn't even wearing a shirt and she was more tuned in to the observation of her purse than you once again avoiding Kyle. "Fuck," You mutter, carefully exiting the kitchen without another word. 

You moved through the crowded rooms with a purpose, your eyes scanning for any sign of Kyle. Each time you caught a glimpse of him, you quickly altered your path, slipping into different groups of friends and striking up conversations to blend in. The music thumped loudly, and laughter and chatter filled the air, but your mind was solely focused on staying out of Kyle's line of sight.

After what felt like the hundredth near-miss, you decided you needed to change your shirt. The idea of matching with Kyle was driving you crazy, and you hoped a new shirt would help you blend in and avoid awkward questions.

Your first thought is to find Kenny, he was probably there and would switch shirts with you, no questions asked but he wasn't answering your messages so your eyes landed on Adam. You ran track together and joked around on occasion "Hey, Adam," You say sweetly "Can you switch shirts with me?"

"No, I don't like you," He shakes his head, going right back to his conversation. 

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows "I thought we were friends."

"We're not friends, I hate you," he says, agitation clear in his voice. His leg had healed from the horrific injury three months prior. Thinking back to the way you hadn't visited him after his leg snapped in half and how eager you were to replace him, you couldn't really call this out of the blue.

"Wow, jeez, okay," You mutter, turning away. Eye searching the crowd for other people that you knew. "Hey, Butters!" You wave at him. 

"Oh, hey," He looks up with a smile.'

"Do you think you could swap shirts with me?" You had your fingers crossed he would say yes.

"Well that's a really neat shirt and all but I don't think my dad will be super happy if I come home in girl clothes," Butters tells you. He seems somewhat nervous, pulling on each of his fingers one by one to crack them. 

"Okay, thanks anyway, man," You give him a quick pat on the shoulder. "Betsy, hey, can you please please switch shirts with me?"

Betsy gives you an odd look, glancing down at her own outfit. "Sorry, I kind of like my shirt."

Each answer was more or less the same with the more people you asked. "Sophie, can we swap shirts?"

She looks up from her phone, puzzled. "Why do you want to change shirts in the middle of a party?"

Frustration mounting, you continued your search until you spotted an open bedroom door down the hall. You slipped inside, closing the door softly behind you. The room was dimly lit, a cozy hideaway from the party chaos. Your eyes landed on a pile of clothes haphazardly thrown on a chair, and you quickly began to sift through them.

Your fingers brushed against a large, oversized lavender button-up shirt. It wasn't exactly your style, but it would do the job. It looked like it belonged to a morbidly obese man, even then you imagined it would be over-sized on him. You slipped the button-up on over your t-shirt. The fabric was soft and cool against your skin, the oversized fit providing a sense of comfort like you were a child again who was playing dress up in her parents closet.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, rolling up the sleeves to make the shirt fit a bit better. It was a drastic change from the band T-shirt, but that was exactly what you needed. With a deep breath, you left the bedroom, hoping no one noticed your impromptu outfit change.

This desperation to separate yourself from Kyle was past ridiculous. Why did you hate Kyle in the first place? He was so perfect it made you froth at the mouth with jealousy like you were some dog trying to behave better than him.

There was no way to clear your mind, you felt like you needed a dozen energy drinks just to get a single coherent thought. 

You made your way through the crowded house, dodging groups of partygoers with practiced ease. As you headed towards the bathroom, the pulsating music and loud chatter blurred into the background. You reached the door and found it slightly ajar, the sound of muffled voices coming from inside. With a deep breath, you pushed it open, stepping inside without hesitation.

The dimly lit bathroom was small and cramped, one brunette girl held her friend's blonde hair back while she heaved into the toilet. They barely noticed you as you closed the door behind you, the brunette cast you an apologetic glance. You felt a brief pang of awkwardness, but you brushed it aside, your goal clear in your mind.

You moved quickly to the medicine cabinet above the sink, avoiding eye contact with the couple. Your hands trembled slightly as you opened the cabinet, scanning the shelves for the familiar bottle of caffeine pills. The girl's constant gagging and sobs echoed through the bathroom but you chose to ignore it. 

Finally, you spotted the bottle, hidden behind a few other containers. You grabbed it, the cool plastic smooth against your fingers. The couple shifted slightly, and you caught a glimpse of them in the mirror- the brunette gently rubbed soothing circles on her friend's back, uttering hushed affirmations. You unscrewed the cap, shaking out far too many pills into your palm before quickly closing the bottle and returning it to its spot.

With a practiced motion, you popped the pills into your mouth and swallowed them dry, the bitter taste lingering for a moment. You took a deep breath, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon and give you the energy boost you desperately needed.

Leaving the bathroom, you step back into the throbbing energy of the party, the caffeine pills already making your hands tremble slightly. You hoped they would help you focus and regain control, but instead, you felt even more jittery and on edge.

As you weave through the crowd, the buzz of conversation and laughter feels overwhelming. Your mind races, unable to settle on any one thought for more than a few seconds. Your eyes dart around the room, and then you see him- Kyle, standing near the kitchen, talking to another girl.

She's leaning in close, her hand lightly resting on his arm, and he's smiling in that charming way that always makes your heart skip a beat. A fresh wave of jealousy crashes over you, stronger than before. The caffeine isn't helping to clear your thoughts; it's only making you more anxious and jittery.

You knew that you didn't have a right to get between him and this girl, especially after you had dodged him for days on end like he was a disease you were desperate not to catch. 

You try to take a deep breath, to calm yourself, but it feels impossible. Your mind is a chaotic whirl of emotions and half-formed thoughts. You want to look away, to move on and distract yourself, but you can't. Your eyes are glued to Kyle and the girl, your heart aching with each passing moment.

He laughs at something she says, and you feel a sharp pang in your chest. You know you need to get a grip, to pull yourself together, but it's as if your body and mind are working against you. The jitteriness from the caffeine pills makes it hard to stand still, and you find yourself fidgeting, your fingers tapping nervously against your thigh.

You look around for a scapegoat and your eyes land on Kenny, he's cheering on some kind of drinking game. "Hey, Kenny," You say way louder than intended, causing him to flinch.

"Hey, dude," He grins. He's wearing a pair of sunglasses despite being inside at night, you didn't need to be a genius to know he was covering up the redness of his eyes. Kenny looks you up and down, chuckling slightly "Jeez, what are you on? You're shaking."

"It's just caffeine," you shake your head, trying to soothe the jitters but you are near twitching. 

"Uh, okay, buddy," He slings an arm around you, pulling you in to watch the game was partaking in. The two of you were contrasting each other perfectly. Kenny was laughing and smiling, his whole body loose, eyes half-lidded beneath his glasses while you stood stiffly, eyes wide and very much aware. 

A group of people stood in a circle around a table, pointing at whoever was most likely to do the thing one of them said. "Who is most likely to start a cult?" One of the girls slurs her words and the group points at some guy wearing a baseball cap backwards who pounds back his drink.

Never had you realized how awful it was to be the only sober person in a large group if you were still qualified as sober from the amount of caffeine you swallowed back like candy. Kenny gives you a squeeze on the shoulder, shaking you slightly as he laughs loudly at something you missed completely. 

You were so acutely aware of everything all at once but also nothing at all. Every sound, every movement, every flicker of light seems amplified, almost painfully vivid

You watch as Kenny raises his arms in triumph, a wide grin spreading across his face. The others cheer, their voices blending into a cacophony of celebration and camaraderie. For a moment, you feel a pang of longing to join in, to lose yourself in the carefree abandon of the game. But the hyperactivity from the caffeine, combined with the turmoil over Kyle, makes you hesitant.

"Okay, most likely to commit a felony?" Millie asks with a lazy smile on her face. Everyone glances around before pointing at Kenny. He grins, taking in all of the cheers and the chanting that eggs him on to finish the drink in his hand. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you watch the partygoers; as a kid, you always expected more dancing at parties in high school but the reality was that the majority of people just sat around on their phones. Across the room, Cylde stands next to Tolkien and holds up an empty beer bottle, aiming for the recycling bin in the corner. He's clearly had a few drinks, his movements slightly uncoordinated.

"Watch this!" he calls out, his voice filled with drunken confidence though there is that same lopsided smile on his face. "Kobe!" 

You watch as he winds up, his arm swinging back before he throws the bottle. You see the bottle veer off course, heading straight toward you and you feel the inevitable dread. There was no time to think between when the bottle left his hand and when it hit you in the head. Next to him, Tolkien's jaw drops, looking down at his friend in horror. 

The bottle smashes over your head with a sickening crash. Pain explodes in your skull, a white-hot flash though you don't even make a sound. The room goes silent, the music and chatter fading into a distant hum. You feel the sting of glass shards embedding in your scalp, the warmth of blood trickling down your forehead, mingling with sweat.

Clyde's face is full of horror as his hands grip his hair, his eyes wide, his mouth moving but the words not reaching your ears. Your heart races even faster, adrenaline mixing with the caffeine, making you feel like you're vibrating from the inside out. The sharp sting of the impact, the throbbing pain, the wetness of the blood, all converge into a sensory overload that leaves you dazed and disoriented.

You stand there, swaying slightly, the world around you a blur of concern and panic. Someone shouts for help, their voice piercing through the fog in your mind. The party now feels distant and unreal, like a dream slipping away as you cling to consciousness. Every detail, every sensation is etched into your mind with excruciating clarity, the caffeine ensuring that you'll remember this moment forever.

"Fuck," You mutter, agitation clinging to your words. You use the sleeve of the lavender button-up to haphazardly wipe away the blood pooling down your face. Everything seemed to get worse with every passing moment, the most awful thing of all is that for what seemed to be the thousandth time that night, everyone was staring at you.

"Holy shit," Even Kenny who was in his own realm seemed to be grounded for a moment as he watched your injury. You give the little crowd of people watching you a thumbs up to signal you are fine and they can go back to their own discussions. 

"It's cool," You take a deep breath, trying to shake it off but you weren't sure there was a thing in this world that could still you. This wasn't a great addition to your very shitty day, you were tired from running and sick from caffeine, frustrated by yourself more than anything.

You stumble away from the disorder of the party, your legs shaky and unsteady beneath you. The room feels too bright, too loud, every sound a sharp jab to your already throbbing head. You need to find a quiet space, somewhere to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. You spot a door slightly ajar down a hallway and make your way towards it, each step feeling like a monumental effort. 

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps as if the air itself is too thick to inhale. You try to steady yourself, but your hands are trembling uncontrollably, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. The pain in your head intensifies, each pulse of blood through your veins sending sharp spikes of agony through your skull.

The master bathroom is a welcome retreat from the party's constant buzz. Despite the light almost hurting your head even more and the face in the mirror that was streaked with blood, you were still thankful to be away from all of the little things that worsened this caffeine overdose. 

Yanking the drawers open, you dig around for something to clean yourself up with. You slide one open and find miscellaneous junk though amongst it is the treasure of Spider-Man band-aids. 

You turn on the tap, the sound of running water a steady, calming rhythm. Cupping your hands under the stream, you splash your face, the cold water a sharp contrast to the heat of your skin. You grab a towel, pressing it gently to the cut on your forehead, wincing at the sting. The towel quickly turns crimson, and you press harder, hoping to staunch the bleeding.

Looking down at the towel and then back up at yourself in the mirror, you wondered if this injury was worth going to the hospital for. You were almost sure you still had painkillers left over from your broken nose and none of the cuts seemed terrible, they were cat scratches.

The only thing that worried you was the dull thudding in the back of your head though that had been there since you entertained a room full of confederates. With all of the injuries you had acquired, you made a general rule to go in the morning if it was drastically worse. It was all just a waiting game for you.

The door to the master bedroom that was attached to the bathroom opens and clicks shut. You don't even bother checking who it is, you already have a sneaking suspicion as you continue to dab away at the sticky blood.

You had left the door ajar and it pushes further in softly, and Kyle steps in, his tall frame filling the small space. His eyes widen when he sees you, taking in the blood and the glass shards scattered in the sink.

You freeze when you see him in the mirror's reflection and turn to look at him slowly. Eyes desperate and silently pleading "Kyle, please, I just can't right now." 

"I'm not asking you to." 

"What?"

"You don't have to say anything," Kyle moves closer, his presence comforting in the small room. He takes a deep breath, then looks at you with a certain stillness. "Just let me help."

With hesitance, you slowly nod. He steps behind you, his height making him tower over you slightly. The warmth of his body close to yours sends a shiver down your spine. As you continue to clean the cuts on your forehead, Kyle's fingers gently part your hair, searching for any remaining shards of glass.

His touch is careful, each movement precise and deliberate. You feel the warmth of his hands, the gentle pressure as he meticulously picks out the tiny pieces of glass. His focus is intense, his brows furrowed in concentration. The proximity makes you acutely aware of every sensation- the way his breath brushes against your ear, the soft rustle of his clothing, the subtle scent of his cologne.

"Hold still," he murmurs softly, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I've almost got it."

You try to stay as still as possible, the combination of his gentle touch and the methodical task helping to calm your nerves. The pain in your head throbs dully, tears forming in your eyes from it. The intimacy of the moment is heightened by the silence, broken only by the occasional clink of glass shards being dropped into the sink.

You glance at his focused reflection, continuing to clean your cuts in the mirror. The antiseptic stings less now, and the pain fading to a manageable level. Kyle works with quiet efficiency, his fingers deftly removing the last few shards. He drops them into the sink, then runs his fingers through your hair one last time, ensuring it's free of any debris.

"All done," he says, stepping back slightly. "How do you feel?"

You take a deep breath, looking at your reflection. The cuts are clean, the blood washed away, and the Spider-Man band-aids on the counter are ready to be applied. You meet Kyle's gaze in the mirror, tears pricking in your eyes. 

"Fine," You say quietly, shifting your eyes to look anywhere but him. 

When you bend down slightly to reach into the band-aid box, Kyle catches a glimpse of your band-shirt beneath the collar of the comically large button-up. He looks down at his own shirt, frowning slightly. 

The moment hangs in the air, charged with anticipation. You can feel the unspoken tension, the pull between you growing stronger. The party outside fades into insignificance, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate space. The world narrows down to the warmth of his hand, the steady rhythm of his breath, and those unspoken moments that bind you together.

Over every little cut, you slap a Spider-Man band-aid over it, and a couple of them end up in your hairline while Kyle hangs back and watches. 

But then, the memory of last week rushes back—the way Kyle had leaned in, his breath mingling with yours, only to pull back at the last second. You had avoided him since then, afraid of the vulnerability it had stirred within you.

Now, standing so close to him, the air thick with unspoken tension, you can feel the same pull. "Are you okay?" He asks, his voice soft.

"Yeah," You wriggle yourself away from him, leaving the mess on the bathroom counter and sitting on the edge of the bed. The satin beneath you concaves like pearls bending in the sunlight. 

"Are we okay?" He asks, standing in the doorway and watching you.

You take a deep breath, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. "I don't know." This was the inevitable, the very thing you spent all day trying to get away from and the whole week prior trying to plan around. 

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you-

"You blocked me on Roblox."

"Okay fine," You raise your hands in defence. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. You needed the rest of summer to smother the flame into ash and let it die,  "I know I haven't been fair to you-

"Why, though?"

"Because it's too much," Your voice is louder than you intended it to be. You couldn't even begin to sort out the cluster fuck that was your emotions. "It's gonna ruin our friendship." You didn't even want to say what 'it' was. The both of you knew clearly but still, you tiptoed around it like the earth might shatter if you say it. 

"It's ruined anyways." Kyle shakes his head.

You're eyes widen slightly, heartbeat picking up "You're drunk."

"I'm not."

"That's worse," You shudder. "Look at me, I just pretended to be a fortune teller in a redneck's house and I steal and I smell like cigarettes and teenage angst."

"I don't care."

"Why?" You press "I'm not even nice to you, and I'm just- generally fucked. Okay? I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'm not a very good person or even really an interesting one. I've been so awful to you, do you remember all of those things I've said to you? Remember when I stole your dad's Viagra to sell it and then I blamed it on you?"

"Yeah, and-

"And? There shouldn't be an 'and'. I'm not a nice girl and this will be the biggest mistake you ever make, that's why I couldn't kiss you at the lake because trust me- I wanted to. Kyle, you don't know what you want and I don't know why you're trying so hard. What if it doesn't work out?"

"But what if it does?" He asks "What if it does work out and we're happy together?" 

Your words die in your throat, eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill from the sheer pressure crushing you like some kind of torture; had you been a sinner in some kind of ancient myth, you thought that this would be your eternal punishment. His presence is so incredibly unnerving, the way he stares you down, his face unwavering. You shake your head "We don't make sense-

"And we won't, ever, we don't have to." 

 "Have you thought about this? Like really thought about this. Our families and the fact we'll have to see each other every year no matter what we do. We won't ever move past this." You were scared to death and he seemed perfectly fine. 

He moves from the doorway, stepping forward toward you "Can you please just be straight with me?" Kyle asks, voice rising slightly "Do I have a chance or not? because I have been turning myself inside out trying not to like you." 

At first, his words feel like some type of cruel prank and then they settle in your head like a nightmare."Oh my god,” You scoff, gripping your hair, eyes wide while you stand up from the bed. "I'm gonna scream, I'm going fucking insane.”

"I wanna hear you go insane. If you're going to scream, I want to hear it!" He exasperates  "I don't care what it is, I just want you to let me in."

You stared at him, eyebrows drawn in while your wide eyes tried to study each breath from him, every shift in his posture like he was hiding some ulterior motive. You couldn't believe, that he still liked you after everything. 

The thought of kissing him crossed your mind once again. The idea itself made you want to crawl out of your skin but you had to test it just to be sure. Swiftly, you close the gap between you, your lips brushing against his in a tentative, searching kiss. Kyle responds immediately, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you close.

The kiss deepens, all the unspoken emotions of the past week pouring into it. When you finally pull back, breathless and heart racing, you aren't sure that the awe and adoration in Kyle's eyes match the fear and panic in yours. 

He shifts his hands to hold firmly onto your waist, fingers digging into the plush skin of your midriff like you might disappear if he were to let go "Don't leave again, I can't do this again."

Tears prick at your eyes, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion threatening to spill over. The caffeine that once fueled your anxiety now seems to heighten your awareness of every sensation- every touch, every breath shared between you.

"Okay," You bury your face in his shoulder, the familiar scent of him filling your senses, a mixture of pine and something uniquely him. His cheek rests against your temple, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs into your hair. You feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tense slightly as he holds you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

 His hands move slowly, one settling at the small of your back, the other cradling the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair. It's a protective gesture, making you feel cherished and safe. You feel the warmth of his skin through the layers of your shirt fabric, the subtle tremor in his touch. 

"My head hurts," You utter softly. You take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him, and as you exhale, the tension begins to melt away.

 "I know," He tilts his head down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head. He gives you a light squeeze, his arms tightening around you momentarily, just to be sure you won't slip away.

A/N: 95k words and they finally kissed