#I mean even one apple gets exhausting to eat before I’m finished I couldn’t have 7 for every meal I think my maximum might be 5 per day

[boneless-mika]

Doctors truly will be like “Don’t eat fatty foods which include *proceeds to list every food that exists*”

[winter-cheshire-writings]

Echoes and Experiments - Chapter 20:

Mieko woke up in Albedo's home, taking a deep breath. Was that the smell of food? She sat up, slowly going about her morning routine. She finally headed downstairs after tying her hair back in a ponytail, seeing Klee bouncing in her seat. “Big Sis Mie! Good morning!” She smiled wide.

“Good morning, Klee.” She replied, walking over and petting the girl's head. “Are you ready to have fun today?”

“Yeah!” She giggled, Albedo bringing over breakfast for them both. “Big brother said he has to finish some work first.”

“Oh, work?” She looked up at Albedo.

“An urgent matter. I promise I'll join you two later on today.” He replied. Mieko nodded, sitting down with Klee as Albedo headed out. Mieko watched him go before turning to Klee, doing her best to eat even though she didn't at all feel hungry. Mieko went to change, Klee watching as the bluenette did her hair up.

“Shall I do your hair too, Klee?”

“Ooh, yes please!” Klee grinned, moving to sit next to the woman, smiling as she watched Mieko in the mirror. “Big Sis Mie?”

“Yes, Klee?”

“Who else is coming with us?” Klee asked. “I know Big Brother Albedo said he would join us later, but… He said some others were coming along too?”

“You'll see my dear.” Mieko chuckled, clipping a couple of accessories in Klee’s hair and placing a special hat on the girl's head.

“Is this… For me?” Klee asked, eyes shimmering.

“It is.” Mieko smiled. “And I have some other stuff for you too, if you'd like it.”

“For me???” Klee turned to Mieko. She looked with wonder at the red and white outfit that Mieko pulled out from the drawer. “I'll go change right now, Big Sis!” She exclaimed, getting up and hurrying to change, Mieko smiling as she left the room. She changed quickly while Klee was gone, throwing on a jacket as well. Once they were both ready, they headed out and picked up the others who agreed to come along.

-

“So this is the Golden Apple Archipleago?” Mieko asked as she looked around, smiling. It was a beautiful place, but it also seemed like a bit of a crazy place, considering the mode of transport. Klee immediately rushed off, Razor following to keep an eye on her. Of the people they brought with them, Mona was the only one to hang back with Mieko.

“It’s quite a place.” Mona said as Mieko sat down. “You went through so much trouble again, making things for us…”

“I did so simply to please Klee.” She smiled at the astrologer in front of her. “Besides, I can handle things like this, at least.” she mumbled. “If not, what use am I?”

“You’re clearly exhausted.”

“It’s just a lack of sleep.”

“Funny. Albedo tells me you’re sleeping a lot more than normal.” Mona stated, noting the woman averting her eyes. “Miss Mie… Are you well and truly alright?”

“I don’t know, Mona.” she stated. “Every doctor has been unable to give me a proper answer…”

“I’m no doctor, but… May I try something?”

“Scrying?” Mieko asked as Mona summoned her scrying glass, Mieko just sitting and waiting. Mona made a face, though, shaking her head.

“Why is it so blurry?” She grumbled. “It’s like there’s a dense fog in the way…”

“Ah, is there?” she asked, smiling. “Thank you for the attempt.”

“I will try again later.” Mona replied.

“Then for now, go have fun.” Mieko said. “I’ll get started on making lunch for everyone.” She sent Mona off, taking a deep breath and shaking her head as she went to start cooking, hearing the record player start up.

“Well hello!” A cheerful woman’s voice emerged from the record player, Mieko nearly dropping the ingredients and turning to the voice. “So sorry, didn’t mean to startle you~ You must be Mieko~”

“Ah… Miss Alice…?” She asked, blinking a few times. “Yes, um, it’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

“Well, I’m only sorry it couldn’t be in person dear. I’ll have to run shortly, but I wanted to at least get as chance to talk to you. Albedo told me you’ve been feeling unwell and have been very busy.”

“Did he?” Mie smiled a little. “I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

“And if I were to tell you that I am certain that it is something?” Mieko took a deep breath after Alice’s words, shaking her head. “Oh, and I have to run, goodbye for now~” And with that, the noise stopped. Mieko put a hand over her heart, gripping the fabric covering her chest.

“Miss Alice is certain, is she?” She asked softly, shaking her head again. “Ahh, my nerves are frayed already…” She scolded herself before getting back to her cooking, trying to ease her own mind about the matter while she worked. After lunch was done, the woman went to lay down, the heat of the day starting to get to her. “Ahh, I used to be able to run around all day training with grandfather, and now this?” She asked herself. “What is wrong with me?”

“Mie?” She looked up and smiled when she saw Albedo standing there.

“Welcome.” She said, sitting up slowly.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Albedo asked, sitting next to her.

“No, just… Thinking.” She explained what had happened, Albedo nodding his head.

“I see… So Alice said something. Then it really must be abnormal.” He sighed. Mieko nodded, the pair sitting in silence for a while before Albedo helped Mieko up from her seat. “Let’s go find somewhere else to lay down.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head. “Alright.” They wandered to a remote corner of the island and Albedo sat down under the tree there, Mieko moving to sit as well. Albedo pulled her down suddenly, making Mieko gasp. “Is… Something wrong?” she asked.

“My lap isn’t as comfortable as yours, but please lay down.” He stated, taking out a book. “I want you to try your best to rest.” He pet her head gently and Mieko smiled a little. He was trying to return the favor she did him a few times, way back when. She made herself comfortable, smiling up at him.

“You don’t have to pet my head, I’m sure it’s sweaty.” She said as he continued to run his fingers through her hair. He didn’t reply, but instead he said something that made her quirk an eyebrow.

“Did you know that recently there have been reports from mariners in the area about a giant crab?”

“A giant crab?”

“Yes, there’s apparently a rumor that people have been seeing giant crabs roaming around the area as they sail ships by, and as they work on developing the sea routes around here.” Albedo replied, teasing her hair through his fingers. “I have heard that it’s around the same height as a standard ship is long, perhaps a bit larger.”

“Eeeh, such a monster exists around here and you haven’t seen it before?” She questioned. “Are you curious about it?”

“A bit, yes.” He replied, flipping his book page. “Are you interested?”

“It sounds like it might be tasty~” She smiled happily. Albedo smiled a little at the answer.

“Will you be alright? It’s quite hot out. I can always go and get you an umbrella.”

“I’ll be okay~ There’s enough water around here where I won’t overheat too easily, so long as I remember to utilize it.” She chuckled. “Shall we ask the others to help?”

“It’s been seen spewing fire, likely a Pyro type, so it would be best if we had means to fight that power…” He looked down at her, seeing that she had her eyes closed. It still baffled him, how relaxed she was able to feel in his presence. “You must still be tired…” He added.

“Don’t worry about me so much.” She opened her eyes, the purple duller than what Albedo was used to, but she seemed at least to be enjoying herself. “You’ll get wrinkles.” She chuckled. Albedo knew how exhausted she was, and he could see her slowly deteriorating. It upset him in a way he didn't understand. The one thing he knew and understood through all these strange, muddled feelings was that he didn't want to lose her.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He replied, still playing with her hair. “And it’s clear you haven’t been well. That’s why the last doctor suggested that you come out on a vacation, isn’t it?” He reminded her, covering her eyes with his hand. “Go to sleep, darling. I’ll wake you later.”

“Hmm, you’re still worrying.” She replied, smiling still. He felt her eyelashes brush against his hand. “Albedo, I promise, I'll be okay… I promise, okay?” She smiled. Albedo didn't answer, and soon she fell asleep again. He removed his hand and stared down at her. Even if the doctors didn't know what was wrong, Albedo kept trying everything he could to help.

“Potions, books… Nothing works.” He had seen other people suffer through burnout, but this… Whatever this was, it wasn't normal. “If Teacher or Miss Alice were here… Maybe then I could find out what's going on…” He muttered. “Whatever this is… Don't slip away, Mie… Please…”

-

Mieko awoke hours later, jumping with a start when she realized it was night time, and… “Hey, bring the claw this way!”

“Make sure the fire is hot!”

“Ah, Big Sis is awake!” Mieko put on her glasses just in time to see Klee jumping up at her, clinging. “Big sis Mie, did you sleep okay?”

“Klee…?” She had to think about where she was, looking up when she realized that the others were dragging giant crab parts onto the beach. “What happened…?”

“You slept right through it.” Mona said. “This giant crab came out of nowhere and attacked.”

“I… What?” She looked around in shock, eyes landing on Albedo putting a bandage on Razor’s injury. She put Klee down and went right over to them, Albedo catching her as she tripped over herself.

“Mimi, are you okay?”

“I…” Her hands shook as she took Razor’s injured arm, tears starting to bubble over. “Damn it, I can’t believe this…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry… I should have… Why didn’t I wake up?”

“You needed the rest, Mie.”

“I have never once slept through an attack, Albedo.” She stated, Razor leaning against her arm in an attempt to comfort her. “And someone got hurt…”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“I’m not blaming me, I’m blaming whatever is wrong with me.” She retorted.

“Mimi, I got hurt to protect. Just like Mimi did for me.” Razor replied. “No tears. Mimi is okay.” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. “Mimi is safe… We protect Mimi.”

“We…?” She turned suddenly to Albedo, seeing that he was injured as well. It was minor, but even then. She bit her lip, taking a deep breath to settle herself. “I can’t believe you two.” She said, pulling Albedo into a one-armed hug, Razor with the other. “Thank you…” She said, holding her tears back as well as she could. “Thank you for protecting me.”

-

After returning from the Golden Apple Archipelago, Mieko was working hard on preparing the shop to sell, shaking her head every time she thought about it. Her home of nearly 10 years… Her workshop… The place she poured her heart into. Her blood, sweat, and tears. The place that housed so many memories, the place she had met so many… She sighed, sitting down on the couch. “Do you want to bring that with us?” Albedo's voice made her jump, the blue-haired woman whipping around to see him standing there. “Did I startle you?”

“I thought you were working.” She said, taking a deep breath. “I didn't even hear you come in.” She was going to stand up when he came around the couch, sitting next to her. “Are you alright?” She asked, noting the look on his face.

“I should ask you that.” He replied, tugging her gently into laying down on his lap. “You look like you didn't sleep again.”

“I didn't.” She replied. “It's too much to think about…” She made a face, making Albedo smile, just a little. “Plus. Since you were away for 3 days working, it's hard to stop myself from thinking too much…”

“Well, now that I'm back, take a nap.” He said, taking her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I'll be right here.”

“But you must be busy…” She said, Albedo helping her lean back as he noticed her eyes closing.

“Get some rest, darling.” He whispered, Mieko soon dozing off in his lap, Albedo letting out a held breath. She was so exhausted that all it seemed to take to put her to sleep was her being comfortable, and for him to be present. Sometimes she would sleep for a very long time, sometimes only for half an hour. He pondered this while she rested, leaning over to look at her face. Fast asleep, but he knew it wasn't going to be enough. “My Mie…” He stared at her for a while, admiring her. “Your trust in me still baffles me… How is it that you can fall asleep so easily? Though, I suppose I can't talk, since I do the same around you…” He leaned over, kissing her cheek, still holding her hand. “What about you makes me want to stay with you?” At this she made a soft noise in her sleep, squeezing his hand and mumbling incoherently. “Why is it that you fascinate me?” He asked once she had settled down. Albedo smiled as she shifted, pulling her onto the couch further, laying her down on top of him. “One day, perhaps, I'll find out… But I'm almost hoping I don't…” He chuckled a little as she clung to him in her sleep. “I want to keep studying you, Mie… I want to know everything…”

“Albedo, shhh, sleepy time.” She grumbled, looking up at him.

“I'm sorry, did I wake you?” He teased, kissing her forehead. “Go back to sleep.” He added, Mieko pouting at him.

“Only if you sleep too.”

-

Once moved out of the shop, Mieko and Albedo had been quietly living in the same space for about a week when it started to happen.

“Mie, are you alright?” Mieko gave an incoherent grumble as she stood against the wall. “Dizzy? Here, lean on me.” He let her lean towards him before scooping her into his arms. “Up you go. I'll carry you to our room, so you can lay down.” She grumbled more, but clung to Albedo, clearly not feeling well. Albedo rubbed her back and carried her to their room, placing her gently down on the bed. She moved to lay down, Albedo helping her take her hair down and tucking her in. “Get some rest.”

“I’m sorry…” she muttered, Albedo petting her head.

“Don't be. I love you, Mie, my darling.”

“Love you too…” she managed before she went quiet, curling up in their bed. After she fell asleep, Albedo sighed softly to himself.

“Mie… My beautiful Mie… Please, please don't ever leave me.” he said. Any affliction, any discomfort, it made him worry about her. She always pushed herself too hard, and was stubborn about taking breaks. Albedo wondered how she wasn't in worse shape when they met, if she'd been at her business like this for 4 or more years alone. By now it was nearly double that. He paused, realizing that it had been almost 4 years since they had gone on their first date, but that wasn’t important at the moment. He only hoped that she would be able to rest well. But now her physical health was rapidly declining too, and still the doctors had no idea how to help. “I wonder if traveler might know?” He mused to himself.

[subwaysurf45]

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words:  3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again. 

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad. 

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said. 

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under. 

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you. 

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully. 

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks. 

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest. 

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible. 

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth. 

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there. 

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date. 

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it. 

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.” 

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers. 

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower. 

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese. 

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you. 

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you. 

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away. 

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb. 

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off. 

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull. 

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly. 

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him. 

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile. 

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer. 

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured. 

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness. 

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea. 

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg. 

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later. 

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times. 

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one. 

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true. 

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later. 

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after. 

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices. 

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list. 

flowers 

chocolate

card

stuffed animal 

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner. 

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before. 

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon. 

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted. 

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching. 

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague. 

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you. 

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion. 

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy. 

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again. 

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster. 

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session. 

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy. 

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out. 

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide. 

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging. 

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back. 

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed. 

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

[theglitterypages]

25 and 54 for levi ackerman plzzzz?! ❤❤

Based on Prompt 25 and 54: ( 25. “I’ve never met someone like you.” “Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?” )

(54. “Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched my head. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.”)

Prompts list

Requested by optamisticsmiles and @geese-goose18

Title: His Worst Nightmare

Pairings: Levi x fem! reader

Summary: You're one of the most skilled Captain of Survey Corps but during one of the expeditipn outside the walls some of your Squad's horses were killed. As a captain you wanted to save them, you knew you can survive outside the walls but your squad may not be able to because all of them are tired so you chose to be left outside the walls and you fend for yourself.

Warnings: None might appear to be a little sad though.

Word Count: 2000+

••••••

“Captain! Most of our horses were crushed by the Titans, we won't be able to meet with Commander Erwin and Captain Levi!”

Your grip on your weapon tightened as you saw the terrified look on your comrades' faces, most of them were young yet skilled but you knew this kind of scenario would really shake them up because this is dead end.

“Take the remaining horses and meet with Commander Erwin!” you shouted as you use your gear so you could slice the Titan's nape. “What the fuck are y'all looking at?! Go before the remaining horses get killed!” four of your subordinates looked at you with tears in their eyes, “We can't leave you here, Captain!” you cussed underneath your breath and swung towards an abnormal titan aimimg for the horses.

“We'll all die if you won't follow my orders. This is not a request, it is an order from your Captain, leave! Now!” You growled as you viciously charged yourself towards the Titan to kill it.

When it fell on the ground, lifeless, you immediately looked behind and a small smile made its way across your lips upon seeing your subordinates ride the remaining horses to save themselves.

You tore your eyes away from them and looked at five Titans charging themselves towards you, you only have one blade left and to say that you're exhausted is understatement, you knew that this is the day where you'll die and you'll embrace your death proudly and wholeheartedly.

Dying to save your young comrades would be the most glorious part of your career as a captain, your young comrades has so much to learn, they still have a lot to know but you've already done your part if you will die in here today your only regrets would be the fact that you can't see Levi in your last breath.

But you heard from your father who's a doctor that once a person dies, they will have flashbacks of their whole life, looking at the brighter side you'd probably see Levi on those flashbacks before you die.

“Let's finish this motherfuckers.”

°°°°°

Levi was obviously anxious as he kept on looking behind him, your squad should be here by this time, you should be tailing them now already but he still can't see you not even a sign of any of your squads.

“Levi, we should go faster.”

“She's still out there, if you want to you can go but I'll wait for her...” he whispered in his shaky voice, before it was so damn easy for him to go on because he had accepted the fact that not everyone could go back alive and he has mastered of masking his grief whenever another comrade has fallen.

But if he's gonna lose you the way he lost his comrades, he would lose his sanity, he would probably go mad once that happens.

“Squads of Captain YN approaching!”

Hope bloomed in Levi's heart as he heard the announcement of your squad's arrival but when he looked back there are only two horses with four people and you're not one of them.

He felt like his heart stopped beating when he tried looking back further but still no sign of you, he decided to shout at your subordinates. “Where is your captain?” he asked in a firm tone and none of them answered.

The teens just looked down and one by one, they broke down into tears. “We're very sorry Captain Levi.” Erwin overheard the conversation and he felt himself go numb. He doesn't want to believe it, he's not losing one of his greatest Captain, not today...

“Can you please stop fucking crying and answer me! Where the fuck is my girl?!”

“She ordered us to leave her, she faced the Titans alone, we're sorry...”

Levi immediately pulled the reins backward, halting the horse from running. “I'm going back for her.” Erwin also halted and looked at Levi as he shook his head.

“By the walls, Levi! We can't afford to lose two of our greatest Captains today. We have to move forward.”

“I'm sorry Erwin. She's the only one that I've got, losing her means I'm nothing.”

“Levi!” Erwin called out but Levi still chose to go back to the forest where you should have been.

As he get closer to the forest his heart beats faster and faster at every moment, his determination of finding you kept him going, he would never leave you, not when you're the only one that he has.

On his way towards the heart of the forest he encountered three Titans and he chose to let out his frustration in killing those three viciously.

When he arrived at the heart of the forest, he immediately looked around, there were no bloods but there's still some remaining of the titans that hasn't evaporated yet.

Which only means one thing;

You're alive.

“Brat!” he exclaimed as he saw your figure laying down on a big branch of tree while you hold your weapons close to you, eyes half closed as you breathe heavily.

You could hear his shouts, he's telling you not to go to sleep but as much as you want to do it your eyelids felt heavy, you can feel him gently slapping your cheeks in attempting of waking you but it obviously doesn't work.

“You can't close your eyes, no. Please baby, don't. We made a promise didn't we? You need to stay with me, you promised to stay with me.”

Levi kept you close in his chest as he rides his horse, he silently prayed that there would be no more titans to appear because dealing with them wouldn't be his priority, he has to make sure you'll get back safe, your head was wounded and he's not sure of how serious the injury was so he did what he could and used his shirt as a bandage to stop the bleeding.

“Lev..”

“Just hang in there, don't sleep. I'll tell you stories so don't close your eyes and hold onto me tightly huh? Can you do that for me baby?” he begged tears streaming down his cheeks, the way you called out his name sounded so weak and every time that he'll look at you, he could see your eyes closed and fear filled his heart, something he has never felt years before meeting you.

After his friends died, he made himself tough, promised not to get attached again so he wouldn't have to lose his mind over and over again whenever he lose a comrade but you came along, he wanted to blame Erwin and Hanji for introducing you to him but he actually would thank them, because he never felt this way before.

The way you made him feel at ease, every time you'll hug him he feels contented and peaceful and whenever he feels your lips on his it is his paradise and his days without you in his side is hell.

So he couldn't afford to lose you now, not today not forever.

“I—I love you, Levi. Take care of yourself for me hmm? I'm sorry if I—”

“I'm not listening so whatever you want to say, say it to me when we get back inside the walls.”

Of course, he can hear you clearly but he's not strong enough to hear you say those words he doesn't want to hear you saying that you love him as if you're saying goodbye and that's not what he wants.

“Lev, I'm tired.”

“Baby just hold on, don't leave me please. I'm begging you.”

As he bursted into tears, his mind was filled with memories of you and him together.

Flashback

“Once we eliminated all of the titans, I would open a book shop and I will read for the rest of my life.”

“Where am I in your plans, brat?” he asked his arms wrapped around you as you rested your head in his hard chest. “You would be spending your days sitting beside me while I read.” you playfully said, pressing your lips in his jaw.

Levi looked down at you with a smirk, “That's not so bad but we should open a teashop with a bookshop inside it so people can read and drink tea.” you chuckled. His love for tea is really strong and to be honest there are four of you in this relationship.

Tea, Books, you and Levi.

Well at least there's no other girls, there's just tea and his cleaning obsession, “We'll do that and I'll tell Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Connie and Sasha to stay with us. I will be making apple pies and they would love it.” you've grown fond of the teens from the 104th, probably because you've seen how they've grown, how the playful teenagers became brave soldiers ready to fight for the humanity.

And you really want this nightmare to end so those kids would have the normal life, “I didn't know we're also planning to open an orphanage now.” he said, sarcasm perfectly implied.

“Quit talking as if you don't like them.”

“If you want children we can make a lot.” he playfully dipped his head down to press his lips on yours and you hold onto his hair as you returned his kisses, when he pulled away, his grey eyes were sparkling as a small smile made its way across his lips.

“God, I’ve never met someone like you.”

“Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?”

Levi stared at you, left dumbfounded of how you sassily replied to his heartwarming statement, “You're picking up my attitude, it's alarming.” he sighed pinching your nose as you slapped his hand away.

“Your fault not mine.” You glared with a pout.

End of Flashback

“You can't sleep because our brats are waiting, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Jean, Sasha and Connie is waiting for us to be back. We'll still eliminate the titans right? We have so much plans baby, don't leave me please.”

“I'm sorry Levi.”

°°°°°°

“Captain...” Levi lazily looked back at him just to see Armin standing awkwardly as he rubbed his nape, “You should eat and go get some sleep.” Armin told him politely, the blond teen doesn't want to make the Captain mad especially he knows what Levi is going through.

“No. Leave my office now.”

“Captain, we know that it's not easy but you can't sacrifice your health.” Eren appeared bebind Armin and soon after, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie and Jean appeared, each one of them carrying different kind of food but Sasha is holding a container of water because the others forbid him in bringing the food, knowing that she might get tempted to eat it.

“Leave me alone and let me work in my office quietly loud brats. None of you knows what I feel.”

“We do. You're not the only one who's sad, we missed Captain YN too but this is beyond our control. The least we can do is to take care of you because we know that she wouldn't want you to be like this.” Mikasa said, her voice devoid of any emotions as she walked towards the Captain as she placed down a tray of food on top of his table.

“We believe that you're old enough to eat by yourself and we wouldn't have to shove that spoon on your mouth just so you could eat.” Mikasa looked at the Captain blankly and when Levi looked up at her, he narrowed his eyes.

“It's really scary how you sounded like me some times, fine, I'll eat so you brats would shut up.”

The teens' faces lit up as they watch Levi eat, he still doesn't look like his usual self because of what happened but they're all not fine but they also knew that they will be.

“Levi! Captain YN is awake.” Hanji said in between hear breaths, Levi didn't respond and left his unfinished food while the teens followed him, running so they could match his pace.

Levi opened the door of the room and he saw you sitting on the bed, the bandage was still on your head, there was a clueless look on your face when your gaze landed at him and Levi immediately ran to hug you tightly.

You let out a sound of surprise and Levi pulled away thinking that he hurt you. “I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened to us? Do you want some water?” you smiled and shook your head, your gaze landed at the flower vase beside your table and Levi saw how your eyes sparkled when you saw the white Carnation.

“I recognize this flower...” you whispered in a soft voice, you reached out for the flower vase before glancing at the man next to you.

“But I don't know you. Who are you?”

The moment you said that, the teens arrived and they heard everything you said. You heard their gasps and you innocently looked up at them, “Hello kiddos, the nurse told me that I've been out for two weeks. I think I missed something, this man suddenly came in here to hug me.” Armin felt cold sweats on his forehead, he doesn't have any idea how to handle this situation especially they saw how heartbroken Levi is.

“Captain, he's your—” before Jean could even finish his sentence, Levi already cut him off, “Leave, brats. Let me talk to her alone.” you frowned at him before glancing at the kids, “Sir, you're not even suppose to be here. Why are you asking them to leave? I know them.” Eren didn't have to hear Levi's reply to you, he just dragged his friends away from that room, scared of what would happen next.

The room was filled with deafening silence after the teens left, Levi was looking down as his breathing got heavier at every minute that passes by while you were still sat on the bed still looking at him cluelessly.

“You don't have to remember me, just let me take care of you, this is better than losing you completely.” he whispered as he took the flower vase from you, placing it back to where it was. “Do you remember anything aside from the kids? Like how you got injured?” he spoke in a calmest way he could even if he's damn broken inside, the first thing he had imagine once you wake up is you hugging him, telling him that you're not leaving him just like what you've promised but here he is sitting on a chair beside your bed while you don't remember him.

When he didn't get any response from you he decided to stand up as his grey eyes got dulled again, it lost the sparks it has earlier.

“You're probably uncomfortable of having a stranger here. I'll go get the nurse.” he turned his back on you to leave but he heard your voice.

“Levi Ackerman, you'll just leave your girlfriend like this then?”

It only took him three seconds to return to where he was, his arms immediately wrapped around yours as he sobbed on the crook of your neck. “I was at the end of my wits, the whole world can forget about me but not you. Don't pull that shit again.” he scolded, you wanted to chuckle or laugh but you couldn't because you heard his sobs, he's like a child as he hug you tightly as if scared that you'll suddenly disappear.

You slowly pushed him away and wiped away his tears as you comb his hair, brushing off some strands of his hair that's hiding his eyes from you. “Sorry, it was a joke and it's obviously not funny.” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes before a low chuckle escaped from his lips, “I can't believe you even picked up my terrible sense of humour.” he whispered weakly as he pulled you close for another hug. For two hellish weeks he drowned himself in paperworks and in between those times he'll be looking after you while you sleep and it drained him a lot.

“You lost weight.” you stated. You memorized every inch of Levi's body and 2 weeks of being unconscious wouldn't change that fact, you knew that he lost weight, those dark circles around his eyes also suggests the fact that he didn't have lots of sleep.

“You scared me.”

“Where was the guy who told me once that he has nothing to be afraid of 'cause he got nothing to lose?” you brows raised and Levi rolled his eyes before leaning in to kiss you quickly.

“Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched your head, his grey eyes looking down on yours as a genuine smile made its way across his lips. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.” he whispered before cupping your face for another kiss, much longer than the first ones, it was also slower as if he's still trying to make sure that everything is real, he's still trying to make sure that his worst nighmare wouldn't happen.

His nightmare where he lost you.

[kim-poce]

On the Ground 7 - Truth

CW: tiny whumpee, fear of death.

Previous | Next

Masterlist

=-=

Tom was terrified, their mother showed up out of nowhere, and any other day and it would be fine, but not on the day they bring a FAIRY home, to make things worse she acted like always, reckless, treating the murderous creature like some kind of guest.

And the fairy is trying something, it started crying after Joana took it, it must want to turn her against the twins, Tom can’t let that happen, but how can they stop it? If they try something and the fairy gets angry it will harm their mother, won’t it?

So Tom held themselves back, even as the fairy cried as when it hadn’t ordered them to bring it home, even as Joana scolded them for something that is not their fault, Tom held back even as they started to eat together, they really did.

“Thank you, Mom,” the creature said as if nothing.

Tim’s face went pale, Joana’s eyes widened, and Tom finally lost it.

“What in the hell are you planning?” They shouted, getting up, “Just say what you want already!”, The creature looked up in shock, and for a second it didn’t look terrifying, it looked frightened.

“So-sorry,” It said, curling into itself, it looked so defenseless, and Joana was right, she did raise her children to be kind, and Tom felt bad for a second.

NO! They shook their head, They asked to be brought here.

“I I sho-shouldn’t say your names wi-without asking, sorry,” the creature said in a small voice, trying to disappear under the handkerchief, it almost looked real and Tom had to shake their head, it asked to be here.

“You thought Mom was my name, little guy?” Joana asked with a smile. The fairy froze for a few seconds before and nodded weakly, “Oh, sweet, Mom is not a name, my name is-”

“MOM!” the twins shouted at once.

“Okay, you say it then”, Joana said, it was really a bad idea to say her name this easily, the twins didn’t react this time, “It was rude of me not to introduce myself, I’m the mother of those two, Tom is the loud and angry one.” she said gesturing to Tom, “And Tim usually can’t shut up, he is just quiet today.”

“Mom…” Tom tried, looking between her and the small creature, Joana glared at them for a second, “Damn… her name is Joana,”, they said angrily, scared.

“Don’t you know what mother is, little one?”, Joana asked and the fairy looked up at her, confused, “Okay, let me explain.”

- - -

Flamo eyes widened when Joana explained; it was a progenitor, and the other giants were its cubs, Flamo felt his blood on his face and he looked down in shame, “s-sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I’m sorry”, The giant called Tom was glaring at him, Flamo wanted to disappear, for fear and shame, to be somewhere else, Joana said it was okay, it told Tom to sit down again and told Flamo he should eat now.

Flamo did, he put the now not-so-hot thing in his mouth and it was delicious, maybe it was because he was so hungry or maybe the pie thing was really that good, it was sweet and soft, it have apples but so much more too.

Tom was still looking at him, but he tried to focus on eating, on doing what Joana told him to.

- - -

Tom waited for the creature to finish eating, it liked the pie, of course it did, Joana’s pie was simply perf- not the point, the fairy looked scared, but it couldn’t be scared, it has no reason to, “So, what do you want?” they asked the creature, when everyone finished eating, “You asked to come here, you must want something.”

Joana didn’t stop them this time, she was curious too, so she just smiled at the little fairy and waited.

- - -

No! I didn’t! Flamo wanted to shout, but he couldn’t, should he tell the truth? should he tell that he was left behind? Maybe the humans wanted to keep him in order to attract more fairies, but it wouldn’t work, and they would be so mad if they found it out later.

Flamo didn’t know what else he could say, he had managed to go this far, to stay alive this long, but he didn’t know what else he could do, and he was so tired, the fear was exhausting, the day was too long.

“I-I’m… b-b-broken,” he hid under the red thing, he should just tell everything and get over with it, “I-I-I have no no wings a-a-and t-t-they l-l-eft me and and,” he started to cry again, “please.”

He felt a hand approaching him and flinched, “N-no, please, please don’t,” he didn’t see the look on the humans’ faces, “please,” he started sobbing again, “P-p-please b-be fast.”

=-=

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated, @jadeocean46910, @cupcakes-and-pain, @wolfeyedwitch

[the-shiftshop]

Hey Diary - Part 4

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3 and SIDE STORY 1 of the Hey Diary Series

The day ended unexpectedly fun. Everyone was so confused why Keith and I had been laughing together, eating together and even sitting side by side in class today as if Keith never had bullied me. Some even tried to confront us, asking if Keith held me hostage. Keith had been dragging me all around with him. He even asked me to play ball with Peter and Tom, who seemed more closer than usual. I would make assumptions that my recent changes are still affecting them, but I already had deleted that log, and these two would, time by time, give hints that they’re nothing more than a friend, so I shrugged it off.

On my way home, I couldn’t get the fun out of my system. I finally felt so free to move. It’s like I can finally do whatever I want and be whatever I want to be.

Then I suddenly remembered what Keith had asked me this morning.

“Make me old enough to be a teacher for a day.”

It got me thinking about what he’s planning to do once more. It’s not that I don’t trust Keith. It’s just that I’m wondering what his goal is. It’s probably just because he wants to experience being old, or being a teacher. He looked so exhilarated when I told him all about the Diary App, so I’m pretty sure he just wants to give it a try.

At home, I didn’t waste anymore time to tinker with the app as I am very tired and I already want to fall asleep. I carefully wrote down on the app, thinking of the desired outcome I am aiming for.

Monday

Hey Diary,

Today was fun. It felt like I was friends with Keith, Peter and Tom ever since the first day we met. We all had fun together and it felt like all my problems are fixed. This morning, I talked to Keith about this Diary App. I have trusted Keith on this, and I do hope he wouldn’t take that for granted. He was super amazed with this app and the ability of it to change reality and he specifically gave me one request.

I wish that would come true, I wish Keith would turn into the person he want him to be just for a day, and that he would be aware of any changes that may occur.

With that properly typed out, I pressed save, then in just a few seconds, I lost consciousness on my bed.

---------

As soon as Felix fainted in his room, Keith was lying on his bed in the frat house, tossing and turning as he feel his body contort in uncomfortable ways. It wasn’t painful. It just felt like his body is growing far more foreign in every seconds that pass by. It’s like his body wanting to grow numb, but he can still feel pain if he try to pinch himself. With his fingers still pinching his cheeks, he noticed hair poking out to them. He proceeded to feel his face with both his hands, realizing that he’s growing a full beard. Finally recognizing what’s going on, he stopped moving around, and he instead just lied on his back and let it all happen.

He moved his hands down to his growing torso, feeling each muscles expand in his touch. He’s growing, that’s for sure, and it’s not just his body. His mind started to fog up a little, making him wince for a bit.

“I should be working on my lessons for tomorrow-” He blurted out unconsciously. He stopped himself midway, realizing what he had just said. That was the first time he said that. And not only that he meant he’ll study for a lesson, he knows he meant that he’s the one teaching them tomorrow.

He finally decided to stand up. His eyes widened when he saw that it had suddenly gone dark. Not only that, but his beddings changed. His shock soon changed into amusement when we quickly see the night change into day then back to night simultaneously, starting off slow, then it sped up. Even the weird feelings all over his body start to feel more prominent. Memories of years of teaching poured out into his brain. Names of all the student he should know popped out in his mind. Charles, that up-to-no-good student but gets straight As in his class; Marie, that campus nerd who kept asking him weird questions; Lawrence, that jock who needs to keep up with his quizzes. Keith already knew some of these students, but he started to see them in a different light. These are the students he teach, not his friends, not his classmates, not his football teammates.

Keith fell back on his knees as he started to feel tiredness.

It was exhausting feeling all of these happen in just a few minutes. It hurts his eyes to see the outside change between night and day as if like flashing images. His vision started to blur and in replace to his clear sight, a thick round glasses appear on his face.

He remember finishing college and finally started his first practice teaching. Now he’s a fully pledged professor. Everyone liked him. He can even remember students confessing their feelings for him, but of course, declining these for his job. He can remember going into classrooms, not to sit with the crowd, but to stand in front of them. He knows how to make a hard topic fun and he knows his students enjoy his class as much as how he loves to teach.

Tiredness was replaced with pleasure as he arched his back, placing both hands on his crotch, then giving a loud satisfying moan. Feeling his cock ballooned through his shorts. He slowly humped against his hands as he put more pressure on them.

He remember tons of hook ups from college up to recent. Remembering women bouncing on him, kissing him passionately, touching him with deep romantic and sexual connection. These thoughts of women is making him hard. His colleagues had been asking him why he haven’t been properly dating anyone yet, or even planning to marry anyone since he’s already nearing age of marriage, but he just enjoys having flings with a lot of people more than sticking to one, at least, for now. He knows when he will find that right person, and that person has not come yet.

He realized that both of his hands are already in his underpants, pawing that hard cock with one hand, while the other is teasing his tip. He finally had let both of his hands stroke his large shaft. He pulled his cock out of his shorts, then finally gave into pleasure.

“A-Ah! Yeah! Damn!” He cussed in his new deeper voice. Not only that he noticed his voice, he realized that his cursing got more softer, less of that slurs, but more of that expression used to show immense satisfaction. “Aww.. This feels so...”

He cut himself as he finally real his climax, cumming all of what seemed like a 14 year stock of cum all over the floor. The cum stain on the floor disappeared soon enough and his room straightened up more. Finally the quick changing of time came to a full stop.

It was morning and it’s time to take a shower and go to school.

---------

Wish was completed. Please take a picture and attach to the log to confirm change and to keep the new reality.

I stared at the pop-up message in my phone. Peter and Tom are laughing beside me while they eat their lunch. I haven’t seen Keith since morning. I’m kinda worried if I messed up with something. The suspense is killing me and I don’t like this. Tom waved a hand in front of me.

“Dude. You’re been staring in your phone since the time you got here. You fine?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just wondering where Keith has gone to.” I said.

“Keith? Who’s Keith?” Tom asked, before giving me a shocked face. “You don’t mean Professor Keith, right?” He chuckled, “Didn’t know he’s your type.” He joked.

I gave him a confused look, then realizing what he meant, I quickly tried to reply back. “N-No! It’s not like that-”

“Tom, don’t tease him. Let him like whoever he likes.” Peter laughed.

“I mean, I should’ve been saying the same. But then, who wouldn’t fall head over heels for Professor Keith? He’s damn ripped. Unlike the other professors here who focus on growing their stomach and ego, more than growing their muscles.” Tom continued eating his food.

Keith’s a professor now, huh? I guess it worked.

After lunch, we proceeded to class. More than usual, everyone had been talking about Keith. I was sitting on my chair, still staring in my phone as it display the same message. I haven’t used this phone on anything else yet.

My attention switched to Alex who walked in front of me. I haven’t seen Alex in 2 days. He looks like he wants to ask me something. I looked at him and he opened his mouth. “Hey, Felix, uhm... Can we talk-”

“Okay, class back to your seats.”

A deep voice came booming through the room. Everyone sat back to their chairs, including Alex who looks disappointed.

I looked at the man by the whiteboard. He was wearing a denim dress shirt and a black jeans. His round glasses flare with the florescent light in the room. Everyone in the room is staring at him. Most girls are looking at him with hearts in their eyes.

The man dropped his things on the table, then started roaming his eyes around the room. “Before we start our lesson. Felix, a word.” He called onto me. I looked around to see everyone looking to my direction, most of them in shock. “Come now.” He said, walking out the room.

I hurried out to follow him somewhere. He didn’t bother looking back, and I just rushed to follow him. He finally stopped where there are barely no students around. He sat down by the window and stared at me. I just stared at him back, looking from his head to toe. He scuffed and gave me a short chuckle.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He grinned.

“I- Uhm. Sorry, prof. I don’t swing-”

“Nah! I’m messing with you, man!” He laughed. “It’s me! Keith! Well, it’s Professor Keith for you now.”

My eyes widened. This man is Keith. It worked. I mean why am I so surprised right now? I’m the one who knows about this Diary App.

“I’m enjoying this knowledge so much! I know about A LOT of stuff I never knew before. So this is how it feels to be a professor.” He flexed, touched his muscles, and basically showed off. He pulled out an apple and tossed it around. “A students gave this to me today. I never received any offer from anyone.”

“You like it?” I asked him.

“I like it? I LOVE IT! Though, I might not stay like this forever, at least I don’t want to.” He replied.

I raised my eyebrows. “Why?” I asked him.

“Well... For now I want to enjoy being this kind of adult.” He answered.

He stopped for a while, running his fingers against his chin. He then took a bite from the apple he was holding, chewing it thoroughly, then swallowing.

“The reason why I’m asking your help is... I want to experience being different people for the whole week.”

[diofasolia]

{Always}

{Shattered! Dream x Reader}

Shattered! Dream by @shattereddreamsau

Writings by me

Today (8/7) is Shattered! Dream's birthday and I decided to post a writing I did last year—which is also the reason why I eventually join in the tumblr

Because back when I wrote this story, I found Dark Cream comic, which made by amazing @zu-is-here

Her creations give me the inspiration for the writing

The story is long (it has like 2000 words in it) and may be a bit cheesy, but I'll be happy to know if you read the whole thing (◡ ω ◡)

******

Before the story start, I want to ask you a question.

   Do you believe that the worst person can change?

   Oh! How awkward, sorry, I ask the wrong question.

   What I meant to ask is—

   Do you believe that the best person, the kindest person in the world can change?

   Maybe…all it needs is a tiny push?

   The harsh whipping hits in my abdomen again. I kneel on the ground, thinking how deep the scar might be from that blow.

   "What're you doing!? Look at your king when I'm talking to you! Such a piece of useless trash!!"

   "I apologized, My Lord."

   Raising my bruised neck, I gaze at the former guardian of positivity. Those eyes that used to hold the tenderness, now only fill up with hatred.

   "Where're those fricking basters!? I told you to track down my brother and other Sanses!"

   "I'm sorry, My Lord. They escaped. I can't find where their location is–"

   Not even waiting for my sentence finished, another powerful punch land on my face. I watch as a tooth fall out of my mouth. Blood dripping down my chin.

   "Worthless! Can't even do a little task like that!"

   Multiple kicks and insults throw at me. The numb feeling slowly occurs in my torso as I curling up into a ball.

   Closing my eyes, the memories from the past arises in my mind, bringing me back to the day that I seal my fate.

   "Dream? Earth to Dream!"

   "(Y/N)? What's wrong, love?"

   "What's wrong? I've called your name for five times! But you didn't answer to me."

   Dream scratches the back of his skull, looking a bit embarrassed.

   "Is that so? I'm sorry, (Y/N)! It won't happen again, I swear!"

   I cuddle Dream close, letting out a giggle.

   "It's fine! I don't really mind it. But Dream, you tend to space out recently. Is there something on your mind? You can tell me everything, you know that, right?"

   Giving me a kiss on the cheek, Dream smiles gently. He assures me that there's nothing to worry about. It’s just the task of guardian makes him a little exhausted.

   "Well, if that's the case, go on and get some rest! I will inform you if something was up."

   "Okay! Thanks, (Y/N), I'm glad I have you by my side."

   "Me too, my dreams and hopes."

   It's been quiet in Dream's room. He must be very tired. I knock on his bedroom door, telling him to wake up.

   "Dream, I know you're tired. But you still need to eat."

   "Dream? Are you awake yet?"

   There's no answer.

   Guess I’ll have to get into his room.

   Yet no one is there, only an opening portal hanging in the air.

   A portal leads to Dream's corrupted universe.

   "I'll show you, brother. I know what you're feeling…I know what you're going through…"

   "No! Dream, stop!! You don't know what you're doing!!"

    Two vague voices shouting in the distance. I begin to run like my life is in danger.

    What the heck is going on here?

    What is this dreadful feeling?!

   I'm too slow.

    The half bitten black apple lay on the ground. I watch in horror as the small tendrils creeping out Dream's eye sockets. His painful screech rings in my ears.

   "Dream!!!"

    I reach out to him, hoping that I can comfort Dream in my arms. The positive energy…they gotta do something, right?

   "What…? Nightmare! Let go of me!! I need to…to get Dream!!"

   "No! You can't get near him now, (Y/N)! You'll…you'll get hurt!"

    I thrash in Nightmare's hold, screaming at the top of my lungs.

   "Dream!! No! Dream!!!"

   "What's wrong, love?"

   My teary eyes stare up, it's…Dream's voice.

   But it sends an unknown coldness down my spine.

   "Ahh, you're crying! Good, keep doing that."

   A sadistic grin spreads on Dream's face.

   "I love it."

   Nightmare is already sobbing, begging for his beloved brother to come back. I walk step by step to Dream, putting on the best smile I can muster.

   "My love…Dream…please, come back to me…! I love you. I know you're strong enough to resist those negative feelings…"

   Dream cackles loudly. The tentacles wrap tightly around my neck, pulling me closer to him.

   "Go back? To my weak self? (Y/N), when did you become stupid? Why would I do that?"

   "I've already past the point of no return."

   A bucket of freezing water splashes on me. I must have passed out during the abusing session.

   "Wake up."

   "Get clean up, we're leaving."

   I pick up my sore body, stumbling across the lonely hall that me and Dream live in. There's no one here except the two of us.

   "Make a choice, (Y/N). Will you join me? Or will you prefer to disobey me like my coward brother?"

   "I'll go with you."

   I want to weep, yet I can’t even shed a single tear. I shouldn't be upset. After all, it's me who decided to follow my corrupted lover.

   Filling up the bathtub, I submerge myself in the steamy water.

   "Why, (Y/N)!? Why are you side with him!? Open your eyes! Dream doesn't love you anymore. He's just using you!"

    "It doesn't matter, Nightmare."

   "Great job, (Y/N)! You make this AU full of despair and miseries! I always know you're my favorite soldier!"

   "It's my pleasure to serve you, my lord."

   I scrub my blood-stained skin, the wounds sting because of the soapy water. Some of the old gash reopened, making me yell in frustration.

   "We can save Dream! Don't lose any hope, (Y/N)!"

   "How? There are barely things we can do. It's over, Nightmare. Look at yourself! You transfer back because Dream shattered! How are you gonna turn him back? By let someone else eats a black apple again?!"

   The white dirty bandages wrap around my mess up torso. Why am I even bother treating my injures? They sure are going to reopen soon anyway.

   "No matter what you say to me, I won't change the path I've chosen, Nightmare."

   "I've already gone far enough."

   "I don't understand…he's hurting you, (Y/N). Are you still…in love with my brother?"

   I hate it so much.

   The smell won't disappear no matter how many times I wash it over and over.

   I hate it.

   My hair smells like those disgusting goop on Dream.

   Why can't I get rid of this sickening stink!?!

   Throwing the bottles at random direction, I tug my hair till I scream out.

   "What's with all that noises in there!? You better finish your business soon, I'm losing my patience!"

   I hate it.

   "I deeply apologize for making you wait for such a long time, my lord."

   I wish I can understand your pain sooner.

   "Whatever, time to leave."

   I'm sorry I couldn't save you.

   "My lord, where are we going, may I ask?"

   Dream's left eye glows in excitement.

   "I find out where those sneaky scums are hiding."

   With a wave of hand, Dream opens the portal leads to an unknown empty place.

   No one is left out.

   Nightmare, Ink, Blue, everyone's here.

   "And I'm going to give them a pleasant encounter."

   But today is a little different.

   Then all hell breaks out.

   Nightmare's starting to transform. The dark gooey substance covering up his body gradually.

   The same routine as usual. Nightmare pleads Dream to stop his actions while the former guardian of positivity just laugh it off, a bit talks here and there.

   "Miss me, dear brother?"

    The crazy laughter of Dream rings in the air.

   "Yes! Finally, things are getting interesting!"

   While Dream focusing on battling with Nightmare, I have to handle the two other skeletons.

   "I know deep down you don't want to fight us, (Y/N)! Let's just drop our weapons, okay?"

   Ink creates a bunch of arrows, ready to launch them at Dream. I block his charge immediately, slashing Ink's arm with my sword.

   My silence is always my only answer.

   "No one's going to get near Dream."

   I continue to attack Blue. We've already been through this conversation many times.

   "How…how's this possible?!"

   Dream can only defense himself from Nightmare as the latter one keeps on firing attacks. It looks like Nightmare gets more advantage of the battle.

   "Seems like you can't control your tentacles very well yet, little bro."

    Nightmare mocks, resulting Dream to lose his temper. He strikes at Nightmare blindly, only to receive a powerful blow in the guts.

   "Dream!!"

   I rush to Dream, who’s looking more exhausted than usual. From the way how he’s panting heavily, I know he's already losing too much strength to fight.

   "Get away from me! I don't need your help!!"

   The attack is sloppy but I didn't dodge it. Dream can beat me all he wants after I get him to safety.

   Even if it means I can possibly die.

   "My lord, I apologize, but we have to move to another universe again."

   Dream growls at me.

   "It's you who are dragging me down!!"

   They're still following us.

   I'm whacking to the ground in a flash. A heavy boot stamps on my ribs harshly.

   The nasty cracking sound and my piercing shirek fills in the air.

   "You're no longer useful to me."

    I watch as Dream disappears in a portal. He doesn't even spare a glance at me. Leaving me bleeding and slowly dying on the ground.

   "I've told you."

    Nightmare's lurking shadow towers above me.

   "Oh no, Ink! We must save (Y/N)! She's…!"

     Ink put a hand on Blue's shoulder, shaking his head solemnly.

   "We can't, Blue. Remember, our priority is to capture Dream."

   "Please, Night…"

     I find myself pleading to Nightmare.

   "Don't…kill Dream…"

   "You and I both know that's an empty promise, (Y/N)."

   Three skeletons begins to move towards the portal that opens by Ink. Before they leave, Nightmare whispers in a quiet voice but loud enough for me to catch.

   "…he's in Dreamtale."

   How much will you sacrifice for protecting your fallen love?

   "You really are dumb. You know that?"

   "Or you're just enjoy me breaking you apart bit by bit?"

   "Don't you scare of your own nightmares?"

   "I deserve it."

   "I'm already living with it."

   "You will always be my fading dreams."

   "It's my own redemption."

   "Surrender now, Dream. Then we can put an end to this whole mess."

   My time is running out.

    "Heh, I thought you know me well, dear brother. You should get the answer by yourself now."

   "…goodbye, my poor little brother.

   I pray to you, God. Let me see him one last time.

   I can't save him the last time.

    It's always a miracle how accurate the portal can lead to.

   "(Y…Y/N)?"

   This time, I'm going to save Dream.

   There's no pain anymore.

   "…at least…you……say my…name……one…last……time…"

   Crimson blood drips down my penetrated torso. I think I see Dream's crying. But that might be just my own tears.

   Forgive me, Dream.

   My collapsing body falls forward, landing on the soft grass surface before me.

(3rd pov)

   "Nightmare, I need your assistance."

   "I thought we're enemies now."

    "There's a method I want to try. It might succeed to bring Dream back."

   "Well, I'm here to listen."

   "She's just a tool."

   "Nothing else."

    "Because I know him well. The extreme emotion is the only possible way to get things right again."

   Dream mutters to himself like a broken recorder. Staring the wrecking body of yours, his non-existent heart begins to hurt.

    "I refuse! That's too dangerous! You surely will be dead in this terrible plan! Besides, how can you so sure he'll behave like you predict!?"

    "It's worth it. I'm doing this for the whole alternate universes, and him."

    "But…you…"

    "Wake up! I demand you to wake up now! (Y/N)!!"

    "It's not…worth for your own life."

    "Don't pity me. Pity for the one who can't help himself in his own nightmare."

    "Wake up."

   "Don't leave me…alone, (Y/N)…please…my love…"

   Ahh, it must be the time when he transfers into this horrible creature.

   Nightmare, who’s now in his uncorrupted form, widening his eyes.

   "…congratulations, (Y/N). Your suicidal plan…works."

   Dream doesn't recall when’s the last time he breaks down.

    No one dare to speak a word, except Dream drowning in his own pitiful cries.

     "Always."

     "I don't understand…he's hurting you, (Y/N). Are you still…in love with my brother?"

   You look at Nightmare with a smile, replying to him like it's the only correct answer in your mind.

[tsukishumai]

Prank Wars w/ their S/O - Tsukki, Kuroo, Akaashi, Bokuto

My Gym 3 babies! 

Couldn’t get this idea out of my head lmao, so I cranked it out real quick.

Hope you like!

Aged-up characters :)

TSUKISHIMA –

You looked at the clock on the wall of your shared apartment.

It read ’11:56 PM’

Tsukki’s birthday was in four minutes, and the two of you were spending it huddled around the kitchen table, papers scattered all over while you both attempted to finish your midterm papers.

Not exactly the most glamorous way to spend it, but such is life for college students.

Still, that didn’t mean you didn’t have something up your sleeve.

Tsukishima was sitting across from you, eyes trained to the screen of his laptop, headphones on with the volume undoubtedly maxed it.

“Kei,” you called out, and just as you expected, he couldn’t hear a word you said.

You rummage through your bag, and found the pair of scissors you stowed away earlier for this exact moment.

“Kei,” you said again, a little louder this time. Still, you were met with nothing.

‘Perfect.’

“Kei!” you yelled out, and with a quick snip, you had cut the wire that was connecting his headphones to his laptop.

You watched as Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly, eyes darting from the cut wire to you, then back to the cut wire, then back to you.

“What the actual fuck?” he said in disbelief.

“I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes now, and you were ignoring me!”

“So you cut my headphones” he sputtered out, still trying to process the situation.

“You couldn’t hear me!”

“Wha – I – Are you an actual moron?!” His eyes narrowed at you, taking the now broken head phones off his head and throwing them off the table, “There were a hundred different ways to get my attention, and you had to pick the most idiotic way. Jesus fucking Christ, how the hell am I supposed to –“

You cut him off by placing a small box on the table, wrapped in a light green wrapping paper patterned with a cartoon dinosaur wearing a party hat.

He stared at the box.

“’How the hell am I supposed to drown out your annoying voice’? That’s what you were gonna say, right?”

He glared at you.

You pointed to the box.

“What the hell is it that?” he asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

“It’s a present,” you rolled your eyes, “or are you too stupid to – “

He snatched the box from the table at your words. You smirked with satisfaction as you watched him quickly ripped off the paper, his hands stilling once he realizes what was underneath.

It was a set of Bluetooth headphones – ones that he has been eyeing for months but hadn’t been able to save up enough money to get.

He looked up at you, eyes softening immediately at the proud smile you had on your face.

“Happy birthday, Kei!” you giggled.

He stood up from his chair to make his way around the table and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead.

What’s a present without a little psychological torture?

KUROO

Kuroo was planning to be nice to you today.

Really, he was.

He even took a quick pit stop at the mall so he could get you a drink from your favorite boba spot.

But when he walked passed the kiosk selling cheap hair extensions, an idea so great popped into his head, he couldn’t ignore it.

He got to your apartment, and the happy smile on your face almost made him hesitate to go on with his plans.

But then you said, “What’s up with your hair today, Tetsu? Couldn’t be bothered to look in the mirror for longer than two seconds?”

His eyebrow twitched.

He waited for the perfect opportunity, and it came when you went into the bathroom to finish doing your make up.

He grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer in your kitchen, and then cut off a thick lock of hair from the extension he had bought that matched your color.

He tiptoed his way into the bathroom, making sure not to make much noise so that you didn’t notice him.

Making a big show of it, he snipped the scissors loudly behind your head, then held up the fake lock of hair for you to see in the mirror.

He couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from spreading on his face as he watched your face slowly register what you just heard, and what you were seeing in the mirror.

Your face contorted with anger and disbelief, quickly snapping your head around to stare at the lock Kuroo was holding.

“WHAT,” you shrieked, “THE. FUCK!”

Kuroo was bent over laughing at this point.

“KUROO TETSURO, I – YOU –“ You sputtered, but then you turned back to your sink, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through the contents.

Kuroo wondered for only a minute what you were looking for before you produced your own pair of scissors.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, “Y/N…”

“COME HERE YOU ASSHOLE,” You tried to grab at his hair, but he was too quick, and grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, calm down,” he shrieked, “You’re gonna hurt somebody!”

“YEAH, THAT WAS THE PLAN.”

“It was a prank!” he said quickly, and you stopped thrashing around, and Kuroo let out a sigh of relief.

He ran out of the bathroom to grab the plastic bag of fake hair, lifting it up for you to see when you trailed after him.

“See,” he said, “I got it at the mall earlier. Now… Please… Put the scissors down?”

Akaashi –

You and Akaashi were having a peaceful Sunday

After spending the morning lazing around on the living room couch, the two of you decided to go for a run around the neighborhood.

Bad idea.

You absolutely hate running.

Akaashi managed to convince you with the promise of making you chocolate chip pancakes when you finished, but not even that was giving you the motivation to pick your feet up from the ground.

 “Alright, that’s it,” Akaashi called from twenty feet ahead of you, his natural athleticism making you more irritated by the second, “Almost there, you can do it!”

You know he was trying to be motivating, but it just made you want to chuck your shoe at his pretty head.

Your body was aching and exhausted by the time you got back to your door.

Akaashi gave you a quick peck on the cheek, told you to go take a shower while he prepared breakfast.

You agreed, but made your way into the kitchen first to grab an apple sauce packet from the cupboard cause a bitch hates cramping.

When you noticed the box of dried pasta sitting in the corner, an idea flashed into your head.

Quietly, you opened the box and grabbed a few dried pieces, shoving them into your mouth before you turned to Akaashi.

“Hey, Keiji? My back is kind of aching, do you think you could help me crack it?”

He tiled his head at you, setting down the bowl of pancake batter he was mixing.

“How do I do that,” he whipped his hands on a towel before positioning himself behind you.

You crossed your arms. “Just wrap your arms around me, then pick me up and squeeze really tightly.”

Akaashi nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “Ready?”

You nodded, and as soon as you felt Akaashi lift you from the ground, you bit down on the dried pasta in your mouth, creating a loud cracking sound.

Akaashi let go of you in shock, dropping you onto the floor, but you were trying so hard not to laugh, you didn’t even mind.

“Holy hell, was that your back?! Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?!””

Akaashi knelt down from where he stood, trying to hold you up while you clutched your stomach.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you burst out laughing.

Akaashi narrowed his eyes as you grabbed a napkin from the counter and spat out the dried pasta from your mouth, laughing even harder when Akaashi looked at you in disgust.

 Realization dawned on his face, and he dropped you on the floor once again, stood up, and started heading towards the bathroom, leaving you to pick yourself up.

“Aw come on, Keiji~”

“I’m taking a shower. Make the pancakes yourself.”

“No! Keiji!!”

Bokuto –

You were trying to enjoy the newest episode of your favorite show when it was interrupted by loud screaming.

Screams that you could only recognize as Bokuto’s

You rush out from your room, only to find your boyfriend screaming his head off from the kitchen counter

“Kou?! What the – “

Your eyes barely took in the sight before you.

Bokuto with a knife in his right hand while his left is on the cutting board and all you saw was red – so much red.

“OH MY GOD, KOTARO, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK”

“Y/N, OH MY GOD, GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!”

You scramble around, and in a panic, you grabbed the dish rag that was on the sink, and threw it at him.

“NO, THAT’S A RAG, THAT’S DIRTY!”

“OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE THE DAMN PAPER TOWELS,” you scream out, scrambling around the kitchen that you’ve lived in for the past year, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!”

“I WAS TRYING TO COOK US SOME DINNER,” Bokuto cried out, and you finally found the damn paper towels under the sink.

You grab the entire roll, ripping off a few sheets and pressing them onto Bokuto’s fingers.

Except, when you wiped the paper towel away, there was no blood. It was… tomato sauce?

And Bokuto’s fingers were neatly intact.

When you finally noticed Bokuto’s phone recording you, you turn to glare at him.

The bastard had the audacity to burst out laughing.

“That’s not funny, Kou!” you shrieked, throwing down the paper towels and storming out of the kitchen.

“Aw, come on, Y/N,” he said in between laughter, “I’m surprised you even fell for that.”

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to think when I come running down, and you’re screaming your head off!”

You crossed your arms and pouted. Bokuto snickered, washing his hands before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You gotta admit,” he smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, “That was a good one.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around him. “Yeah… it was.”

[hockeyboysiguess]

sunflowers | m. tkachuk

a/n: today, i offer a humble too long matthew tkachuk fic, full of angst and thoughts about love.

i would like to thank @nolypats​, for having a dream that i wrote a fic about? that dream looks nothing like this fic, but that was the og inspiration, and for being so supportive during the writing of this monster. also, @jasondickinsons​ and @slapshot-to-the-heart​ for freaking out every time i sent you a preview. never would’ve finished it without these three. 

word count: 20K

warnings: swearing, and a ton of angst.

wine pairing recommendation: a full bodied cabernet sauvignon, because this fic is full bodied.

You ran a hand through your hair as you looked at Matthew across your apartment. The mug in your hands felt heavy and the tea inside had gone cold. The look on Matthew’s face when he walked in the front door had made you set it aside and forget about it entirely. He had been nervous, hesitant, his movements almost delayed, like there was too many thoughts swimming in his head for the signals to get down to his muscles at the correct timing. You drummed your nails on the cool ceramic, your fingertips tracing the outline of the sunflower on the mug, as you let out a long breath. 

“We literally just-”

“I know,” Matthew cut you off. He stumbled through the next six words, but they stung all the same. “I think this was a mistake.” 

It was as if he picked the words right out of your deepest vault of insecurities, sharpened them, then tossed them in your general direction careless, but still wasn’t surprised when they hit their mark. Your shoulders caved in, your body reacting to the weight of the insecurities you had tied to those words in your mind hitting you in the chest. You set your mug on the counter with shaky hands. 

“Matthew,” you tried to start, but he just set his blue eyes to the ceiling instead of trying to look at you.

You pressed harder, this time, irritation in his inability to communicate with you boiling over, “You can’t just say something like that then not look at me.” 

“Fine.” 

His eyes were dead when they rolled back to yours, lifeless, emotionless, almost completely devoid of the person you knew so well that was usually behind them. He looked nothing like the friend you had for the past two years, nothing like the boy who you kissing on his birthday a few months before this terrible moment you were being forced to inhabit, and nothing like the boyfriend you had since that night. He was unrecognizable from the boy you loved, the set in his jaw unsettling you. Matthew had not come over to have a discussion. You could see that now. He was resolved to end this relationship when he walked through your front door. When Matthew Tkachuk’s mind was made up, you had yet to find anything that could redirect his course. You knew you wouldn’t be the first tonight. 

“I think we can work on this, if you’ll just talk to me about it.” 

The laugh that comes out of his mouth in response to your words made you instantly wish you had never tried. The part of you that had told you to just swallow the breakup he clearly wanted was screaming, “I told you so,” at the top of its lungs. There was no resolution to be had. This relationship was over before he walked in the door, before he walked in the building, before he had gotten in his car. It was over the minute he texted you, curtly informing you he was coming over. Now that your mind was ruminating, the tone of his text felt rough and succinct, like he just wanted to get through it to get to this. 

“I think that there’s nothing to work on,” Matthew told you, his tone flat. “I think we were friends, are friends, good friends, and we just starting having feelings because we thought we couldn’t have each other. That whole forbidden fruit thing, right? And we got all mixed up. Sex was great, is great, don’t get me wrong, that kind of chemistry isn’t the problem, but I just don’t think we’re supposed to be together. I think we just got our wires crossed and mixed the chemistry and the friendship up to mean that we’re in love when I just don’t think we are. At best, I think we just had middle school crushes gone off the rails. I don’t think I really have feelings for you and I don’t think you have them for me either. I think that’s why we fight a lot. There’s nothing really here, in all reality, and I think we can both sense it. You know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“Get. Out.” 

You spat the words out with all the venom and anger you felt. It wasn’t until the door shut behind him, not another word spoken in the tense moments it took to cross your kitchen to it, that you felt the pain in your chest. The anger, and the adrenaline that came with it, had disguised it while he was still here. Now, it was just you, in your empty apartment, realizing you not only had to deal with the pieces of yourself left over after Matthew just shattered you, underneath that was the agony of losing a friend. A friend you had come to know so well over coffees and sheet pizzas and margarita pitchers, in parties and houses and parks and arenas. He left with your now ex-boyfriend, because they were one and the same. 

All you had was the now tainted memories of him and an even colder cup of tea.

------

You shuffled around your kitchen island, skipping the tea kettle in favor of your trusty slightly rusty coffee pot. This wasn’t a morning tea could handle. None of the mornings since Matthew told you that, in essence, your entire relationship was built on false pretenses and was doomed to fail from the start, had been tea mornings. They’d all be coffee caliber mornings. 

Just as the coffee started to drip into the pot, your phone lit up on the counter. It was either your mom or another friend checking on you for what had to be the hundredth time. Your friends had be rotating who would check on you and who would bring you food. They were genuinely worried this break up was making you a bit of a recluse. The problem was, the person that had gotten you out of ever breakup funk you had over the past two years, every bad date, every ghosted text, was the person that caused this one. Your mind unwillingly brought you back to a memory you had been trying to avoid for the last four weeks.

There was a knock on your door. You pulled your sweatshirt sleeves over your hands to wipe your nose and eyes. You would have thought that after two weeks, a whole fourteen days, you would have cried everything out by now. Your body apparently had other ideas and was content to continue to produce tears until you felt better. When that would be? Who could say. 

Matthew Tkachuk was trying to have a say about it when he was on the other side of the door you opened. You sighed. You weren’t in the mood for him and his persistence in getting his way.

“I brought donuts, Legally Blonde because my sister said to, and my sparkling personality and I’m not leaving until you smile, eat at least two donuts, and take a shower.” 

He pushed his way into your apartment effortlessly. You didn’t consider yourself particularly weak, but there really wasn’t much you could do against Matthew Tkachuk with his mind made up on his side. He kicked his shoes off on the way to your coffee table, dropping the donuts on it before grabbing the TV remote. 

“I said I brought Legally Blonde. I meant that I brought my intent to watch it with you. We both know I’m just gonna rent it on your TV for you. I don’t own a DVD player and neither do you,” Matthew said to you as he started pulling up the movie. “Also, I have no idea how to log in to my stuff on this thing because you have a Fire TV instead of an Apple TV like a loser, so I’m just going to Venmo you $3.99 for the rental.” 

“Matthew,” you sighed, running a hand through your unwashed hair.

“Yeah, you can’t physically remove me from your couch, so I will not be leaving this apartment,” he informed you. “Watching Legally Blonde on your couch without you and stuffing my face with donuts I’m not supposed to have feels like it would be a pretty low point in my life. Unless you come watch with me and save me from half of these donuts.”

You saved him from half the donuts. He saved your hair from a record eighth day without washing it. You saved him from actually watching the sequel. He saved you from your torturous thought spirals and your tendency to look entirely for mistakes you made and flaws within yourself in lieu of acknowledging that relationships always take two people. He saved you from becoming a recluse that time, pulling you out of your apartment for dinner with him the next day. It was just Chipotle. He said he chose the environment for low social stress, high food volume ratio. You had hit him in the chest and he’d squeezed your hand softly, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss the back of it softly. 

“You know he didn’t deserve you, right?” he told you as you waiting in line. “You can and will do a hell of a lot better than him someday, probably sooner than you think.”

“Thanks, Matty.” 

Looking back on that memory, you couldn’t find any fondness for it. It just made the dull ache in your chest that had become a permanent resident over the last month transform temporarily in a sharp, stabbing one, before returning to its original form. You poured your coffee, each movement it required felt exhausting. You felt absolutely spent constantly because you were spending all of your energy trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Relationships were a two way street, but you could never drive down the other side, only your own. Matthew’s side, his view of it all, would always be foreign to you, but you could analyze every word, every movement, and every piece of Matthew’s reaction to all of your actions to find what you had done, what you had done to contribute to the car wreck that had caused the pain in your chest. Did you veer too close to him? Did you veer too far? What did you do? 

When you get together with a friend, after years of mutual pinning, it’s supposed to work out. Every book, movie, and hell, every other couple you had ever seen that had been great friends first, then started dating, worked out. It always had a happy, romantic comedy kind of ending to it all. Everything was supposed to fall into place the second Matthew kissed you for the first time because friends falling in love felt inevitable in the kind of way that made you believe in predestination, in fated futures. You had come to the conclusion that fate either didn’t exist, or she was a fucking bitch. 

“Come here!” Matthew shouted to you across the party when you were less than two steps into his front door. “I want a birthday hug!”

“I literally just got here!” you shouted back, your voice dropping in volume as you got closer to him, bumping your way through the party to get to him in the kitchen. “You couldn’t wait two minutes for me to like, put your gift down and take off my coat? Needy.” 

“Ah!” Matthew raised a finger to you and shook it slightly. “It’s not needy when I’m the birthday boy. Hug. Now.” 

You rolled your eyes, but tucking yourself willingly into Matthew’s broad chest. He was so warm all the time, but particularly now that he was definitely a few drinks deep and very much enjoying himself here at his party. Matthew always smelled the same, like the slightly too strong laundry detergent scent boosters his mom made him use and spearmint toothpaste. You couldn’t stand the combination at first, but now, pressed into his chest, you felt calm, the stress of the day washing away when you enveloped in him. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the top of your head and gave you an extra squeeze before letting you go. 

“Also, you’re late,” he pointed out as he grabbed you a beer from the sink he’d filled with ice in lieu of people going in his fridge.

You took the beer from him after he slammed the top off on the edge of the counter. You chugged about a quarter of it before scrunching your face up and stopping. The first few sips were always the worst, before any of the wondrous affects of alcohol actually kicked in. 

“Work,” you told him with a shrug.

Matthew rolled his eyes at you, a common occurrence, and you rolled yours back, and even more common occurrence. He laughed a little at your routine, before he tapped his beer suddenly on the top of yours, making foam rise rapidly, overflowing the bottle. You cursed and shifted your hand over the sink so the foam covered his makeshift cooler instead of the counter, but your hand was a lost cause. 

“Matthew,” you groaned, your displeasure heavy in your voice as you shook your hand free of the foam. 

Matthew threw his head back and laughed as you rinsed off your hand. When his head lifted, eyes finding yours again, he was met with a glare and the displeased shaking of your head. He smiled lazily, his blue eyes crossing your face to take in your expression. 

“You’re cute when you’re pretending to be mad.” His words were a little more connected than they should be, his faint lisp expressing itself more, endearing in a way that cut through your annoyance at him. “I would like to request a birthday, ‘One of my best friend isn’t mad at me anymore,’ pass.” 

You rolled your eyes again at him for the second time in minutes, “You’re going to get real annoying with this birthday thing, aren’t you?” 

Matthew smiled wryly at you, “Comes once a year. Feel like I should get my money’s worth for the twenty-four hours I can, no?” 

You shook your head at him, then took a sip of your beer. You were pretty sure you knew how this night was going to go and after a long day at work, it wasn’t exactly what you had been looking for. But the smile on his face, the curls falling down his forehead, and the fact that you were head over heels for him, meant that even though you hadn’t been looking to get on a rollercoaster today, damn it all to hell if you weren’t going to throw your hands in the air, scream your head off, and enjoy the ride. 

“How about,” Matthew slurred slowly at you, “a birthday dance?” 

“You could just ask me to dance. I’m used to you stepping on my toes and elbowing me in the face,” you threw back at him.

He faked pain, like you shot him in the chest, a large hand clapped over his heart as he winced. You giggled at his expression, before your laugh made him laugh. Matthew extended the hand on his chest out to you. You sighed before clapping your hand into his open one and letting him pull you toward where a few people were dancing. He spun you into his chest with a tug on your hand, purposefully putting your hands on the back of his neck. 

“Odds you step on my toes tonight?” 

Your beer bottle tapped between Matthew’s broad shoulders as he slowly started to sway with you, using his hands on your hips, one hand still with two fingers wrapped around his beer, to guide you. He smiled down at you knowingly. You knew the answer to your question before you’d even asked, but Matthew knew you were just teasing him. 

“Oh, one-hundred percent,” Matthew told you with a smirk pulling up the corner of his lips. “I should get you steel toes for your birthday.” 

“If you can remember when it is,” you laughed as Matthew spun you by your hips, your hands breaking from his neck to allow the spin. 

“Don’t doubt me,” Matthew grabbed your wrists with one hand and pulled them against his chest. “I might have had to make it my phone passcode to be sure I don’t forget, but I definitely am not going to forget it.” 

“That might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever done in your life, Tkachuk.” 

He rolled his eyes and freed your hands, only to wrap his arm around your neck and yank you into his chest where your hands had been moments before. You squealed at the action, which only made him laugh. Matthew was a touchy drunk, but it was the closest you could be to him. These were the moments you could touch him, dance with him, and let yourself feel like the world you lived in was also the world in which he had feelings for you too. But you knew those worlds weren’t the same. The would you lived in was a world full of stolen drunken moments like these and unrequited love. 

“Birthday beer?” he asked you, presenting you with the empty bottle you hadn’t realized he’d finished.

“You are really pushing your luck,” you told him. 

The smile that came across his face when you grabbed the empty bottle made your heart beat heavier in your chest. You smiled back up at him and you could have sworn you saw his eyes glance down at your lips, but you shook off the idea like the intrusive thought it was. It was a self-indulgent misreading of him, your mind projecting a motion you wished Matthew had done, instead of accurately reading the moment for what it was. It might have been a false creation of your mind, but it made your chest hurt all the same. 

You grabbed Matthew his beer. Then you birthday grabbed him a slice of his birthday cake. Then you had to birthday dance with him again. Another birthday hug. It started to wear heavy on your shoulders because tonight all Matthew seemed to want was you glued to his side. Your mind was twisting and turning, running down dark, unlit roads you had blocked off in your mind for your own good, but the combination of alcohol and Matthew’s hand on your hip was allowing your mind to blast through barricades you’d built to protect yourself and you were imagining this being real. Worse, you were wondering if maybe he felt like you did, which was as dangerous as driving down a twisty, forest road in the middle of the night, with your highlights out, and faulty breaks. 

As the last guests trickled out of the party, Matthew said you didn’t count as a guest, he collapsed onto his couch, throwing his arm over the back. He motioned over to you as he polished off his remaining beer. He sighed when you had yet to move, letting his head roll back, curling bouncing at the movement. 

“Come on, birthday cuddle,” he whined softly, gesturing you over to him again.

You groaned and hoped off the counter where you had posted up as everyone else left. Matthew smiled and lifted his head up when he saw you coming, adjusting on the couch to give you a clear spot, right under his arm, right against his side. You climbed onto the couch and slid in, dropping your head onto his chest as his arm dropped around your upper back instead of remaining on the couch. You sighed as you snuggled into his broad chest and Matthew’s chest suddenly rattled beneath you as he laughed.

“Well, make yourself comfortable then,” he laughed softly. 

“You’re comfy and I’m tired,” you mumbled, tucking your face down to try and hide the flush rising in your cheeks.

Yes, you were tired. Yes, Matthew was pretty comfortable. Neither one of those things had anything to do with why you were thrilled to be snuggled into his chest. The smell of spearmint and laundry detergent was mixed with cheap beer, but you found yourself falling more into him, your shoulders relaxing, your mind slowly, but your heart racing. You might be pushing your luck, tipping your hand with how you were openly enjoying this, but Matthew’s hand playing with the ends of your hair and the steadiness of his breathing plus the sheer volume of alcohol he had consumed tonight was giving you hope that even if you were tipping your hand, he wouldn’t be able to recognize the cards. 

“Come here. Birthday hug.” 

“I’m literally snuggling you. Why do you want a hug? Snuggling is an extended hug,” you muttered to him. 

“Hug,” Matthew repeated, a hand patting his thigh. 

You groaned as you lifted your head from your comfortable spot, twisting awkwardly to get your arms around Matthew’s neck. He huffed, clearly not thrilled with your position. His hands found your waist, fingers sliding into your belt loops to pull you onto his lap, situating your legs on either side of his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tight against him, hugging you to his chest. His face was tucked into your neck, his hot breath fanning out over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

He mumbled something you couldn’t entirely hear, but you caught the word birthday again and rolled your eyes. You sighed as you pulled back, his arms giving way to let you sit up on his thighs. 

“What did you say?” you asked him softly. 

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from your attempted eye contact. His jaw clenched, nerves getting the better of him. You just didn’t know what he had to be particularly nervous about. 

“I want a birthday kiss.”

His words were soft, vulnerability keeping his voice tense, but his volume low. His eyes lifted up, scanning over your face, looking for some sign as to how you received his words. Matthew moved a hand to the back of your neck and gently pulled, ever so slightly, to bring your mouth closer to his. His eyes continued to take in your face, trying to read your expression, but he was clueless, his own feelings clouding his judgment. His tongue darted out, swiping across his bottom lip. 

“You don’t have to, obviously, but fuck, I really hope you want to, ” he breathed out, eyes still trying to find some sign, something to hang onto in your face.

It was clumsy with excitement, but you dipped your head forward and pressed your lips against his. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears as he started to kiss you back, the sound blocking out everything except how you were finally doing this, you were finally kissing Matthew. All you could feel was him, his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue working yours softly. Just him. You pulled back and resting your forehead against his as his fingers tangled themselves in your hair at the back of your neck. 

“Thank god,” Matthew mumbled. “I thought I ruined us for a second there.” 

You shook your head softly and smiled down at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips again. He was smiling before you even pulled away this time. 

“Fastest my birthday wish has ever come true in my life,” Matthew told you softly, a smile wide on his face as he spoke. “Also, my best birthday wish ever, if I do say so myself.” 

“Wait, what did you wish for?” you laughed, letting a hand run down his chest lightly. 

“You,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wished for you.”

Everything after that was easy, for a little while. You both had dreamed, fantasized about having each other, so you were both in absolute bliss when everything came together. It felt like two pieces in a puzzle, finally finding each other after being separated by the expanse of the unfinished masterpiece in between if the masterpiece was the world as far as both of you knew. But you never found your place in it together, never locked into the bigger picture. Two pieces floating out in space can’t stay connected forever when hands start trying to smash them into place, hands that wonder if those pieces even belong together at all. 

The hands that ripped you and Matthew apart weren’t from the outside looking in though. They were the same hands that held your hips so tightly on nights between the sheets. The same hands that held yours where you walked through the city after a few too many drinks at the bar together. The same hands that ran through your hair softly when you came over crying about something you couldn’t even remember anymore. 

They were the same hands currently wrapped around a glass at a bar across town. The boy, not man, whose hands they were was running one through his hair hurriedly now. He couldn’t get you out of his mind and he just couldn’t figure out why. 

“Okay, why did you break up with her again?” Johnny pressed Matthew for what had to have been the twentieth time over the last month. “Because you’re fucking miserable all the time. She’s fucking miserable. None of us can get her out of her apartment. So I’m just not getting this one, man. Why aren’t you at her place right now? Why weren’t you there a month ago really, begging for her to take you back?”

Matthew groaned and screwed his eyes shut hard. He had explained this so many times, the words and memories were starting to blur together for him. If you say the same word too many times in a row, your brain begins to question if what you’re saying if even real anymore. Matthew felt the same type of confusion and disassociation with recounting his reasons for breaking up with you. The version of him that had original thought those thoughts, felt those feelings, wasn’t here anymore. It was replaced with a shell of a boy who realized he’d made a terrible mistake. 

“Wait, have you seen her?” 

Johnny rolled his eyes at Matthew, but he answered anyway. 

“No, I didn’t,” he sighed, motioning to the bartender for another beer. “A couple of the girlfriends stopped by, brought her some casseroles or something.” 

“Don’t you bring casseroles when someone dies?” 

Matthew forced the terrible joke and his own laugh in response out, in a poor attempt to disguise the ache in his chest at the thought of you. He could see you so clearly in his mind, pacing holes in the floorboards of your apartment, wearing out your favorite mug, but there was no way on God’s green earth you were wearing your Flames sweatshirt you usually did when you were upset. Hell, Matthew would be amazed if you hadn’t burned it after what he done. He knew you had to hate the casseroles, both based on the fact that you barely considered them an edible type of food, and the fact that they seemed to be an homage to the funeral of your love life. You would’ve made a better joke than him too and he wished he could’ve heard it, but you probably hadn’t made one. Matthew was the person who helped you out of the negative thought spirals that sent you spinning around your apartment. He caused this one instead and he was here, sitting in a bar, doing nothing about it because there was no way you’d even talk to him again, not with what he said.

“I just,” Matthew sighed again and fussed with his beer, lining and unlining it up with the condensation ring on the coaster as he talked, “I got too into my head. We were fighting. It just, it wasn’t good, Johnny.”

“It wasn’t good or you weren’t good?” Johnny pressed, watching carefully as Matthew’s body froze in response to the question, glass frozen mid-movement, eyes fixed on a broken neon sign in front of him. “Chucky, you don’t do anything unless you already know you can do it. You’ve never been in a relationship as an, I don’t want to say adult because that’s not entirely true, but as an adult, so you probably sucked at it.” 

Matthew rolled his eyes before throwing back verbally at him, “Thanks, Johnny. Loving this pep talk. I’ll make sure when Gio retires, you get my recommendation for the C.”

“We both know exactly,” Johnny tapped Matthew on the forearm, “where that C is going next and don’t even lie. But that’s neither here or there right now. The point is that she was your girlfriend. You were supposed to talk to her about being a shitty boyfriend.” 

“I am not in the mood for this,” Matthew groaned, dropping his head to the bar, recoiling when his skin stuck to it, his face scrunching up in disgust. 

“I mean, Johnny’s right,” said Monahan as he slipped up next to Matthew’s other side, making a second groan slide from Matthew’s throat. “You were supposed to talk to her, not break up with her like a dumbass. She was your friend first. She knew you weren’t perfect and that she’s have to put up with some shit because you definitely don’t know the first thing about being someone’s partner. She went all in with you anyway,” 

“Decided the person you could be and the person she could be with you was worth it,” Johnny jumped back in. 

“Good one, Johnny,” Sean nodded appreciatively, tapping his beer bottle against Johnny’s across the bar in front of Matthew. “She gave you a chance, a hell of a good chance. And you decided to throw it all away? Because you fought?”

“Who the fuck are you right now?” Matthew cursed at Sean. “Where did you find all this girl advice, huh? If I wanted this, I would’ve asked your girlfriend.” 

“Fianceé excuse you,” Sean reminded him, a smile pulling at his lips. “She relayed all of this back to me. She saw her a few days ago. This is all straight from the source, man.” 

“Wait, she said that stuff?” Matthew choked a little on his beer. 

“Yeah, she did. Wanna know what else she said?” Sean didn’t give Matthew time, much like Matthew gave you no time during that conversation a month ago, no regard to if Matthew could handle what he was about to say. “She said you weren’t good at communicating or being a boyfriend, but she was okay with it because she loved you. All she wanted was effort. Just a little effort from you, man. And you just left instead of trying.” 

Your words, albeit coming through the probably clumsy filter of Sean, stung in Matthew’s chest. He felt like a coward, a fraud. He tried so hard to be tough, to be the guy that kept pushing, kept grinding, kept giving a shit even when his team was down three goals with five to play. He was the guy everyone counted on to try, even when everything else was screaming to just give up and accept defeat. That’s what he’d done with you. He gave up when the waves of trials started coming, when a storm kicked up. Matthew had taken one look at a swell coming that looked to be the type that could swallow ships whole, took the lifeboat, and ran without a second thought. He left you on a battered boat, full of holes, without even a bucket to bail yourself out. 

To make matters worse, the wave he had been so scared of was either entirely a fabrication of his own mind and he had run from his own twisted imagination. Or worse, he had created the wave himself and ran before it could catch up to him. 

It was catching up to him now though, sitting at a dive bar in Calgary, a warm beer in his hand, and the weight of what he had done sitting heavy on his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” was all he could say.

“Your dream girl, really.” Johnny was twisting the knife now, but Matthew knew he deserved it when Johnny added, “And you fucked it.” 

“Yeah,” Matthew laughed softly, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes that were still staring at a broken and sputtering neon sign, but really seeing something that wasn’t there. 

He was seeing you, in that pretty sundress, the one with the sunflowers on it that Matthew loved on you because you always looked so happy whenever you wore it. Countless memories of you in that dress. You wore it out with friends, the second time Matthew had ever met you. That’s the first time he remembered thinking just how pretty you were, the way your hair fell down on your shoulders, the way your smile formed, the way your nose crinkled when you laughed. Matthew was used to thinking girls where hot, but you? You were beautiful, standing there, laughing at something Johnny had said, in that sunflower sundress. 

He remembered that dress from the first time he almost kissed you, a month later, walking down the street together after dinner, his hoodie around your shoulders because you had gotten cold and Matthew was always warm. It was the first time you wore his clothes and it made Matthew’s heart beat loudly in his ears, so loud he couldn’t hear anything else, couldn’t think about anything else, but kissing you. He almost went for it, but then you pulled him back to reality, actually pulled him out of the street he hadn’t noticed he stepped into because he couldn’t hear the cars over his heartbeat. 

That dress starred in his memories of your first date that occurred a week after his birthday, the one where he finally kissed you for the first time, over two years after the first time he almost kissed you. It might have been January in Calgary, but there was that dress again, with tights and a thick coat and knee high boots and socks and a little hole at the bottom hem and it made Matthew want to die. If he died staring at you in that dress, kissing you in that dress, he was pretty sure he would be fine with whatever his obituary looked like. 

Except that dress and all the memories of it were tainted because you had been wearing it when he broke your heart, when he watched you break apart and shatter, all of his own doing. Hell, he probably tainted sunflowers as a whole for you. He’d gotten you so many over the few months you’d been together, even though they had cost far too much money since sunflowers in Calgary in the winter weren’t exactly commonplace. The necklace for your birthday, a sunflower and his number in delicate gold, his sister’s idea. 

Matthew wondered if people could hate certain types of flowers for the same type of reasons people loved them. People loved them because of how they looked and smelled, but also the memories associated with them. His mom loved pink tulips, but was it more because she always had or because his father always bought them for her and now she couldn’t look at them without thinking of his dad and all the times he has surprised her with them? Was the existing love or the associated love the more powerful factor in her love of them? 

Either way, Matthew was just hoping you didn’t hate sunflowers anymore because of him. 

“How do I fix it?”

Matthew’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper now, his hand tense around his glass. Matthew had too many thoughts running through his head, but he needed to make sure you didn’t hate sunflowers now. He just didn’t know how to even get you to talk to him to find out if you did. 

Johnny and Sean looked at each other and Johnny sighed when the silent communication resulted in him being the one to answer. “I don’t think you can, Chucky.”

“No, I have to, I have to fix it, Johnny,” Matthew’s voice cracked. “I just, I have to make sure...”

He didn’t finish the thought because it wouldn’t make sense and they would both probably send him home, thinking he was either too drunk or having a breakdown, more likely both, if he started ranting about sunflowers. 

“I think all you can do is reach out,” Johnny told him softly. “Just let her know that you now realize you made a massive mistake, that you want to be a team this time and work on it, I guess. From there, it’s up to her.”

“Should I bring flowers?” Matthew was asking the universe more than either of the two not so romantics next to him. “Chocolates? Something? Is there anything I can bring or do to fix it?” 

“I don’t think you can fix it, dude,” Sean cut in with a sigh. “You can’t force it. if she even talks to you, she’s going to have to decide you’re worth a second shot and knowing her, she’s not going to just give it to you tonight or tomorrow or whatever. She’s going to want to see real change first. You just tell her that you’re going to try and then fucking try, even if she doesn’t ask you to try. Start working on yourself anyway. Start acting like she’ll give you a second shot.”

“Do you think she will?” 

Matthew’s voice echoed how it sounded earlier, timid, small, a whispered prayer from a boy who knew his only hope was if fate heard him and decided to twist the world in his favor, if fate wasn’t a fucking bitch after all. 

“I mean,” Sean sighed, thinking about himself now, trying to shove his feet into Matthew’s water-logged shoes for a moment to find an answer, “if I was her, I wouldn’t. But she’s a better person than all of us put together, so maybe she will, but I know I wouldn’t.” 

Matthew let out a long, shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening them to pick his phone off the bar. He knew you wouldn’t answer a phone call. He also knew your voicemail was definitely full at this point. He was always the person who had to tell you to delete the old ones whenever he tried to leave you one and couldn’t, but he wasn’t there to do it, so it would be full by now. He had to settle for a text, which felt like a much shittier version of a handwritten letter, but he had terrible handwriting and spelling, but at least it ranked well above an email in the power ranking of methods of communication. 

Please tell me you don’t hate sunflowers because of me. I really hope I didn’t ruin them for you.

Matthew placed his phone face down on the bar, then nervously flipped it face up even though he knew you wouldn’t have even been able to read his text in the millisecond his phone was face down. He didn’t know if you would answer, or if you would even read it. You would read it, Matthew assured himself. He knew you. You never got a text or a message you didn’t read. Would you say anything to him about it though? Would it be on your phone, nested among texts from people who didn’t break your heart until one day, probably a year from now, you would meet someone else and have no need to remember him anymore, so only then would you finally delete it?

Matthew tried not to think about it, but his eyes glanced down at the screen every thirty seconds even though he was willing them to just give you time. He didn’t even realize it was past one in the morning. You were definitely up, he knew you better than to think you would be asleep, but awake and awake and answering texts were different. He just hoped if you were awake, that you didn’t hate sunflowers, maybe that you didn’t hate him, and that you weren’t crying. 

You were awake though, holding that godforsaken necklace that you had ripped from your neck the morning after he ended it and thrown into the back of your jewelry box. The necklace was in one hand and your phone with Matthew’s text pulled up in the other. You were crying, something Matthew desperately wished you weren’t doing as he drank the last dregs of his beer and headed home with his head hung low, his phone alight in his hand as he ritually checked for a reply from you. You sighed, looking between his text and the necklace, wondering if you hated your favorite flower now. That question hung on another one though, one domino relying on the other to fall. Did you hate Matthew Tkachuk? 

Yes, you did. That was decided the moment the door closed behind him and he left you to deal with the crashing waves of grief all by yourself, without even a bucket to bail you out.  

Did you hate him more than you loved him though? 

You stared at the necklace, the one you hadn’t been able to throw away, and you knew the answer. The delicate golden necklace would be buried deep in a landfill if you really hated him more than you loved him, not in the palm of your hand now. But here you were, staring at it until your eyes went cloudy with tears, before you had to put it back in the box. You couldn’t put it back on, not now, maybe not ever, but you also couldn’t bear getting rid of it, the idea making your heart twist in your chest in a way that made you physically wince. 

You put your phone on your nightstand at the same moment Matthew did across town, both with your minds racing over the unanswered text. Matthew went to bed thinking you would never answer it, forever leaving the question hanging in the wind. You went to bed knowing your answer, but unsure if you were ever going to share it with him. 

------

Matthew groaned when he heard his doorbell ring, followed by cautious knocking. He hated that doorbell. The noise was absolutely piercing, especially to his hungover brain. He hadn’t even drank that much last night, but he was so incredibly hungover. Matthew could only guess that the alcohol had worked in tandem with the ache in his chest after deciding he needed to feel worse to create a hangover this bad from five beers over three hours. He shuffled to the front door, not even caring he hadn’t bothered to find any clothes other than sweats on his way to it. Whoever it was was too goddamn early and they would need to come back another time. 

When Matthew ripped open his front door, a groan falling from his mouth at the effort it took, he was looking at the ceiling, head thrown back in hatred of the exhaustion he was now feeling due to having to actually do something other than lay in bed and be hungover.

“Look, this building better be on fire or-”

Everything stopped when he saw it was you. You looked so small to him, standing there, a tray with two coffees in hand and a brown bag in your other hand. Your sweatshirt was swallowing you up and you looked like you were strongly debating making a break for the stairwell with the way your eyes were shifting to the right. There were dark circles under your reddened, swollen eyes, eyes that only looked like that when you had been doing a lot of crying recently. 

Matthew thought you would have a lot of possible reactions to his text. He never once let himself think you would show up at his front door. 

“I brought bagels,” you finally said, after far too long of both of you assessing the other. 

Matthew looked almost as bad as you did. His hair was unkempt beyond normal, the curls broken and haphazard across his head, hanging into his forehead. His eyes were sunken and absent, vacant like a forgotten home on the outskirts of town. Days old stubble patchily covered his jawline, razor clearly lost among his things again. If you weren’t at his apartment, if you had just passed him on the street instead, you might not have recognized him. There was always a lightness to Matthew, an inability to keep his feet on the ground as he searched for the next adventure he could have, but he seemed rooted in place, held down by some outside force. He was complying with it, the force, but it was clearly under duress and it was exhausting him. The force was absolute agony and it was written all over his face, in his posture, in his every labored movement. 

“And coffee,” you added after no words left Matthew’s mouth long enough for an uncomfortable silence to stretch between you both. 

“You’re here,” Matthew breathed out, words spoke so softly as if he feared if he said them too loudly, you would disappear. 

Matthew’s head was pounding. His mouth tasted awful since he went straight to bed when he got home, not even stopping to brush his teeth. He knew he looked like an absolute mess because there wasn’t a way a person could feel like he did and not look like a mess. He didn’t care about any of it. You were here. You were actually here, with coffee, and bagels, at his front door. 

He didn’t think. He knew it was a mistake after the fact, really as soon as he did it, but he also knew there was a chance you were here just for personal closure, that this might be the last time he ever got to see you again. He reached out and grabbed you by your waist, crushing you into his bare chest. His face pressed into your hair, which always smelled like strawberries to him even though you swore your shampoo wasn’t supposed to smell like strawberries. If you never talked to him again after today, he just wanted to hold you one more time. 

You hugged him back, hesitation evident in your loose arms and your tense shoulders. It was barely a hug, but it almost made Matthew cry. Even just the small response, no matter how cautious it was, made him feel better than he had felt in a month. 

“Go brush your teeth and like, actually wake up,” you told him as you pulled away from him. “I’ll, um, toast the bagels, I guess.” 

Matthew was on autopilot as he walked into his en suite and grabbed his toothbrush. His movements were slow, robotic as he brushed his teeth. There was only one thing on his mind, replaying over and over incessantly, persistently. Why did you show up at his place? Matthew was desperately trying to turn the broken record playing his mind over to the other side, hoping to find the answer, but it was only more of the same. There was no reason, no reason he could understand, why you had shown up at his front door. Why you had shown up with coffee and breakfast for him was so far outside of the realm of things Matthew could understand, he had to eliminate it from his mind. 

Until it all suddenly clicked in place, Sean’s words from last night flowing back into his mind. 

You were here because you were a better person than he was, a far better person. Sean had said you were better than all of them, very much including Matthew, put together and it was true. You were bright and beautiful and good, so incredibly good. You loved people with an honesty and a bravery that made Matthew’s heart ache due to the effort it had to put in to keep up with you when he’d been smart enough to accept your love. You were so much better than he was four months ago when you kissed at his birthday party, so much better than the bedraggled boy looking back at him in the mirror today, and somehow infinitely better than the person he was going to be in fifty years, already. Who you would be in fifty years? You were going to be the kind of person that needed a designated overflow zone at your funeral because too many people were going to want to acknowledge they’d felt your love in front of hundreds of others. 

Matthew never deserved the piece of you he’d gotten. He knew that now as he heard you humming softly to yourself as you dropped the bagels in his toaster. Matthew had never deserved you and it’s why he had ended it because he’d known all along. He knew you were fighting because he wasn’t good enough for you and that he never would be. He would have spent his life running at top speed behind you, trying not to slow you down, trying not to be a drag on your life, trying not to lessen the impact for good you could have on the world. You would have never let him go, slowing yourself, stunting yourself in order to accommodate him.

But here you were, looping the train of your life to run back through the temporary station of your relationship with him that was in complete shambles, and Matthew let himself dream it was because you were ready to hold his hand and fix it up brick by brick, piece by piece because you were so good it hurt. Matthew knew the right thing to do would be to make sure your train left the station today, unencumbered by any damage from him, and more importantly, without him. But Matthew Tkachuk was three things that made that impossible. He was competitive, problematically so, always wanting to get better, always wanting to win. Damn it all to hell if he couldn’t spend the rest of his life running to keep up with you because one day, he just might actually catch up if he could figure out how to run fast enough. Matthew Tkachuk was also incredibly selfish and incredibly in love with you, one a personality flaw and the other the purest part of him that had ever existed. He had to figure out how to catch up because he couldn’t let you go.

Matthew stepped out of the bathroom with resolve settling into his clenched jaw. He knew asking you to take him back without any proof he could improve was a hopeless avenue. He couldn’t ask you for that; him asking for anything was already unfair, he needed to try to at least ask for the least he could. Any plan he had formed was tossed out the window of his high rise the second he saw you, sweatshirt hanging off your shoulder, hair piled on top of your head, humming softly to yourself as you spread cream cheese on his and your bagels, barefoot in his kitchen. For a moment, that moment Matthew held his breath so you wouldn’t hear him standing in the kitchen doorway, it was like the last month hadn’t happened and you were still his. Matthew hung in the moment as long as his lungs would allow, soaking it in case he never got to see it again. 

“You going to keep staring or are you going to come get your bagel?” 

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts violently, head shaking off the ideas that had been swirling, pulling him down that whirlpool of you and him that might just kill him. He yanked the nearest bar stool out, dropping down into it unceremoniously, before graciously taking the bagel and the coffee you’d brought for him. 

“Why did you ask me that?” you finally said, words slicing like knives through the palpable tension in the air. “The sunflowers. Why that? After a whole month? That?” 

You said a few extra words then you’d meant to say. You were trying to keep everything short and brief, just here in a quest for the peace you needed and nothing more. More words meant more feelings and more feelings meant the idea of peace slipped further away with each expressed word. 

“I just,” Matthew ran a hand aggressively through his curls before starting over, “I just wanted to make sure that after everything I did, I didn’t ruin one of your favorite things for you.” 

You sighed, debating if you wanted get into this or not with him. What could it hurt? It was just a story.

“I like them because my mom does,” you told him softly. “She always had them growing by our house when I was little. She always had them in a vase by the front door, and she had these sunflower earrings, these little golden ones. They’d kind of like the necklace-” 

Your fingers touched the bare skin where the necklace he gave you had sat until a month ago, fingers finding nothing to touch to. Matthew’s eyes had followed your movement, saddening when he saw you weren’t wearing it even though he hadn’t expected you to be. 

You cleared your throat before continuing, “Anyway, she lost them a while ago. But I guess they just remind me of home. That’s why I got that dress. I got it when I first moved here. I saw it walking around downtown in a window and just took it as a sign that everything was going to be alright, you know?”

Matthew nodded softly as he continued to listen and mindless pick at his bagel. 

“And then when we started dating and you figured out they were my favorite flowers and started getting me dozens of them all the time, I guess you and us started creeping in as part of those reasons I love them. It kind of sucks because they make me sad now and I can’t wear that dress anymore.”

The words were tumbling out of your mouth now, practically on top of each other. You weren’t sure where you’re going, but more words meant more expressed and acknowledged feelings and you were saying a lot of words. Matthew was trying to keep up, trying to take time to process and read between the lines. You always said so much whenever you spoke, half of it jammed in between sentences in pregnant pauses and shifting eyes. He was trying to take it all in, trying to figure out how you were actually feeling, but you weren’t resting in any one emotion long enough for Matthew to identify it. 

“But no,” you sighed. “I don’t hate sunflowers. They’re sadder now. It used to just be missing home, but now they make me miss us. But I don’t hate them. I don’t think you can fully hate something that reminds you of so many people and places and times that you loved. I don’t hate them because I don’t hate you, Matty.” 

He didn’t ruin one of your favorite things for you and you didn’t hate him. In full honesty, Matthew didn’t think you hated him. He knew one of your flaws, but also your best quality, the one that made Matthew feel so lucky to have been with you, was your capacity for love. It got you in trouble sometimes, kept you with people you shouldn’t have been, made you believe in fake friends’ false pretenses, but it also the only reason you didn’t hate him now and the only possible reason you would ever accept any sort of olive branch Matthew could clumsily extend. 

“I fucked up,” Matthew said suddenly. He wasn’t thinking, wasn’t filtering. He should have taken his time, picked his words carefully, but it was you and you didn’t hate him and Matthew was painfully awful at this sort of thing and he was overwhelmed with the idea he might just have an opening back into the warmth that was you. “I’m so fucking sorry. I totally get if you can’t trust me again. I know I’m a shit boyfriend. But fuck, I love you. I know I do. I’m just so bad at showing it. I want to fix that. I want to fix it with you. I want you and I want to show you I’m not a fuck up and that I do love you. I won’t need a second chance ever again, just some patience. Please.”

Matthew let out a long, shaky breath when the final begging word left his lips. He knew he’d been pleading with you with each and every word, hoping something he could say might hit you in just the right away, might have just the right effect to get the result he so desperately craved. You. Back in his arms. Back in his bed. Back in his jersey at his games. Back with him, where he wanted you more than he had wanted anything in an embarrassingly long time. 

“Is any of that even true?”

Your question stopped Matthew in his tracks. It felt like a punch to his chest, right over his already aching heart. How could you doubt that? No, Matthew knew how you could doubt it. You could doubt it because you could doubt every single thing about him if you damn well pleased. He deserved every bit of doubt and caution you presented. He had broken you because he refused to take his seat at the adults’ table and talk about how he felt, how he was feeling insecure, how he felt like a bad partner, and how he felt worse about all of that because he felt like he couldn’t fix any of it. He attributed the two of you not working out to you two not being a match, instead of acknowledging his own flaws and what they were doing to both of you. In retrospect, all of that probably would have been far better to say to you than what he had actually said, but words couldn’t be stuffed back in his mouth. They were now in your mind, in your memory, and Matthew would just have to live with another mistake on the laundry list of things he had done wrong regarding you.

“Every single word is true,” Matthew told you softly. “I have so many other ones too, if you want to hear them.” 

You breathed out hard, shoving the air forcefully out of your lungs as you ran a hand through your hair, “You don’t get to say those kinds of things to me, Matthew. You don’t have the right to that.” 

“I know,” Matthew grimaced in reaction to your words.

He should’ve held his tongue, but he had so much he needed to say to you. But there he was again. Thinking about himself, only himself. He wasn’t considering you, wasn’t communicating with you. He just vomited all of his thoughts and feelings up without even bothering to see if you were actually open to receiving them. Saying you didn’t hate him didn’t even correlate to being open to the conversation Matthew had forced into your hands, unaware he had even pried your fists open to put it there. 

“I shouldn’t have forced that all on you,” Matthew admitted softly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just, I have so much I want to say to you.” 

“Matthew,” you sighed. You had been doing a lot of sighing lately. “I don’t think-”

“I don’t want you to take me back,” Matthew cut you off. “At least, not right away. I don’t deserve that. I know that. I’m not asking for that.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, eyes scanning over his face to try and figured out where he was going. You thought he would ask you to take him back, something you weren’t going to do without a sign from him that it would actually be different this time instead of exactly the same, with a shorter honeymoon period. Another two months with him, only to suffer the same heartbreak wasn’t enough time to make you take a blind chance it would be different. You needed something to hang your hat on, something to make you feel like he wanted to be your partner this time around. You needed to see him try, try in the long nights apart, try in the close nights together, try in the afternoon dates, and try in the stolen morning moments. You needed to see Matthew try and be your partner, and not just some emotional, freeloading friend with benefits version of a boyfriend who would spin you around a dance floor, then into his bed, then leave whenever you asked for more.

“Then what are you asking for?” 

Your words were quieter than you expected, confusion ringing heavy in each syllable. Matthew ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in how his fingers tugged on his curls at the end. He didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted a shot to prove to you he was worth your time, that he could be the partner you deserved. He wasn’t even sure he could be, which was part of the reason he was struggling to speak to you now, feeling like he was trying to row up a rushing creek made of his current feelings and his past failures without any sort of paddle or even a life vest, about to drown at any possible second.

“I just, I want to show you that I’m worth a real shot again.” Matthew was begging now, figuring that if you said no, at least you would know how badly he wanted you. He couldn’t get more pathetic than asking you if he’d ruined your favorite flowers because it had somehow said everything without saying anything at all. “Just, let me be around, let me earn a second chance. Let me show you I’m trying, trying to get better, trying to communicate better, trying to be someone who is good enough to deserve half of you. Let me show you I can try and that I’ll keep on trying forever, if that’s what you want from me. If you want to watch me try for five fucking years before giving me another shot, that’s fine. If you want to watch me try to five fucking years and then not give me another shot, that’s fine, at least I spent five years trying for someone who is so goddamn worth it, it hurts.” 

“So, you want what exactly?” you pressed, a defensive laugh edging at your voice. “You want to just, what? To be around all the time? To be together all of the time? That’s just being friends, Matthew, and you were always a great friend, but you were a shitty fucking boyfriend. You want to spend all day with me, showing me that you’re trying to be better, then do whatever you want when you’re not around me?” 

“No, I, fuck,” Matthew groaned, hands digging into his hair, head dropping to the cold granite counter in dismay at the mess he had made. 

“Here’s your first communication test then,” you told him, letting the passive aggressive biting words you held at the back of your tongue roll off the front of it instead. “Tell me what you mean.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Matthew banged his forehead on the counter with each word, frustration getting the better of him now. “I don’t even think this is going to make sense, but let me be your boyfriend even though you won’t be my girlfriend. That sounds so fucking stupid now that I said it out loud, but I guess I’m just trying to say I’m going to be one hundred-percent, all gas no brakes, full throttle about you and trying to actually change for you and show you I’m changing, but you can do whatever you damn well please because even letting me try is a fuck load more than I deserve.” 

Matthew let out a breath to try and steady himself before continuing, “I know I’m still asking for a lot, both of your time and of your ability to at least sort of try to look at me not like the guy who said all of that shit a month ago. But I promise, I’ll be worth it. You do whatever you want, no strings, no jealousy, nothing. Let me be around and prove I’m worth a real second shot, please. You can send me packing whenever you want and I won’t bother you. You’re just too fucking incredible for me not to ask to try, even though I don’t have any right to ask.” 

You breathed out hard, forcing all of the air out of your lungs. Matthew was asking, begging, for an opportunity to prove himself, to prove he could do what you wanted all along, just for him to try. Standing in his kitchen, bare feet cold on his hard wood floor, the idea of giving him that opportunity made your heart pick up in your chest, but made pain radiate through it at the same time. The romantic in you, the part of you that wondered if maybe Matthew Tkachuk was actually worth it, the part of you that loved sunflowers even though the memories attached to them were so incredibly mixed now, wanted to give him a chance. The other part of you, an equal part of you, was screaming, demanding that you be protective of yourself, of your happiness, from the people you let into your life, especially ones who had already proven then had no problem burning the life you were building for yourself and leaving before the ashes started to fall. 

But did you even have a happiness you needed to protect? If you didn’t, then the answer was simple. If there was nothing to protect, there was extremely limited risk. You were already in a variation of hell of his own creation, sponsored by the feeling of someone you love deciding you weren’t worth an ounce of effort. What could it do to you if he failed? It would just affirm what you already experienced as a perennial fact instead of a potentially annual moment. 

But the romantic inside pushed back, hard. Would you always wonder what would have happened if you gave him a chance? Would you always carry a torch for him? Would there always be an empty room, with a light left on, for him, in the house of the life you ended up making for yourself? 

Romanticism versus realism. That was the question at hand. You knew both sides of the argument, the angel and devil on your shoulder both just facets of you, screaming at each other, both trying to decide what was best for you. They were just extensions of you though, so if you didn’t know, they didn’t know. But you did know two things though. 

You knew you still loved sunflowers and you still loved Matthew Tkachuk. 

And that was enough to convince you punch him a round-trip, one month ticket on the train of your every moving, ever developing life. You would be directing the path, choosing which tracks you would take, making all the moves, and he would have to figure out how to be your co-director. You weren’t going to stop or simplify anything for him. You were just going to continue on. In a month, the train would loop back to the station and you would decide to punch him another ticket, offer him the seat next to you, or leave him stranded there, alone at a run down train station probably in the pouring rain like in all the movies, before he would leave and watch as the station crumbled to dust upon his exit along with the idea of you and him. 

“Okay.” 

You settled into your answer as you gave it, trying to get it to settle over your body in a way that made you feel warmer rather than colder. Matthew’s eyes were staring into yours and he looked like he was teetering on the edge of crying, like he wanted to tell you everything that single thing that word made him feel, but he bit his lip and held his tongue. He was listening instead of talking, a welcome change, a welcome first attempt. 

“You get one month,” you told him, your voice shaking as you tried to force it to be level. “One month of being around, I guess we can call it that. You figure out how you want to prove it to me. I’m not here to help you out. You hurt me. This is me, unlocking the front door for you. You have to figure out how to open it all on your own, okay? After a month, I guess we can talk and see where we’re at.” 

“Thank you,” is all Matthew can figure out how to say for a moment. One month to try and show you he was worth another maybe, or if he let himself dream for a second, one month until you might want to be with him again. “I’d take anything, so thank you.” 

“Take your fucking breakfast,” you smiled softly, trying to break the tension as much as one joke can. “And your coffee is cold now but that’s going to be a you problem.” 

“Is your coffee cold?” Matthew asked you. He just wanted to fix something, even something as small as a too cold cup of coffee. “I can fix it.” 

“Well, it’s iced coffee,” you informed him, a genuine laugh in your voice this time as you reached behind you to grab your drink on the opposite counter, giving the cup a little shake, ice rattling, as you showed it to him. “So, I sure hope you’re not going to try and warm it up.” 

“No, no,” Matthew laughed softly, hands fiddling with the collar on his now room temperature at best coffee. “Probably should’ve asked what you were drinking first.” 

You nodded softly, “Your heart was in the right place.” 

Matthew smiled softly as you and your heart picked up in your chest again. God, that smile. It cut through everything, through the dull ache in your chest, through the deafening noise in your head of your own thoughts, and hit you right in the room in your heart that was reserved for him. It was vacant now, but the lights shone brighter for a moment and the furniture in the basement that used to be in there for him rattled, drawers and cabinet doors smashing, a reminder that everything you felt for him was still there. It might be covered in drop clothes and an inch of dust, but it was there. Part of you was already ready for him, but it wasn’t most of you. Maybe one day it would be. Or maybe this was one of the worst things you’d allowed in a long time under the impression that he simply couldn’t make things worse for you, which was almost a challenge to that fucking bitch fate at this point. Your insecurity and shaky foundation got the best of you for a moment and a sentence like a child’s prayer slipped out of your mouth. 

“Matthew, please don’t waste my time.” 

“I won’t,” Matthew’s words followed yours without a second of hesitation. “I promise. I won’t.” 

The romantic in you hoped he was right, that this would be worth how difficult it would be, how difficult it would be to look at him over and over again with his past words playing like a broken record stuck on a broken record player in your mind. If he truly did try, then enduring the torturous reminder of the past would be more than worth it because you were pretty certain that if Matthew Tkachuk could figure out how to be everything you knew he could be, he would be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. But could he get there? You didn’t know, but sometimes people take risks, people bend until they almost break in search of love, like sunflowers bend towards the sunlight, in search of a new and brighter day.

------

You woke up the next day after breakfast at Matthew’s, after ducking out for a planned series of activities, lunch with a friend, and errands to run. You had tried to fill your day after Matthew’s to give yourself an out if it went poorly and a break from Matthew to process everything if it turned out positive. Part of you was wondering if what had happened was really positive or not, but you felt better today than you had over the last month, able to get out of bed and get the coffee pot started with too much extra effort. The bags under your eyes looked better than they had in weeks.

A knock on your front door, eerily reminiscent of the one you’d delivered on Matthew’s door the day before, brought you and your freshly poured cup of coffee in hand to the door. You opened the door and were greeted with an unfamiliar face with a very familiar expression, one far too cheery for the hour in the day. The smile plastered on her face didn’t falter as she read your name and address off her list to confirm who you were and that she was in the right place. You nodded as confirmation, which just made her smile impossibly wider. 

“Great! These are for you then!” 

Her voice was somehow worse than the fact that she was downright euphoric before nine in the morning. No one who could be this excited about life before nine could be trusted. She practically shoved a bouquet into your hands, turned on her heels, then seemed to skip down the hallway and out of your building. You shook your head as if to shake off the memory of the world’s cheeriest delivery person from your mind, before turning back into your apartment, kicking the door closed on your way to the kitchen table. 

Of course, they were sunflowers. Matthew’s consistency with flowers was never in doubt. You grabbed the card, smiling at the words printed on the small card.

If you don’t hate sunflowers yet, give me a month. You’re going to get so many, you’ll be sick of them. Lunch today? - Matty

You tapped the card in your hand, taking deep steady breathes as you walked over to the counter where your phone was. You were really doing this. You were really giving him a chance to show you he could be better than your downright awful four months full of casual disagreements, fights, and near constant miscommunication had shown you. There were people in your life you didn’t think would approve. No, you knew they wouldn’t approve. That’s why you hadn’t told a single soul about yesterday, but this wasn’t about anyone else. It wasn’t about the opinions they would be bound to have. It wasn’t about what they thought was best. This was you and Matthew and everything that was still there. It wasn’t for other people; relationships never were. 

You texted him, accepting his invitation for lunch. He texted back immediately even though it was way too early for him usually. If Matthew had practice at ten, he wasn’t out of bed until a quarter past nine and he lived fifteen minutes from the arena. Your mind wondered if he had been awake, just waiting for your text, but you pushed the thought of side as you headed to take a shower. He wouldn’t get up before nine unless his building was on fire. 

Across town, a curly-haired boy who had woken up two hours earlier than he usually did, just to see if the girl he loved had gotten her sunflowers, smiled when he saw her text.

She had gotten them, thankfully. Matthew got to go to practice with a smile on his face, wondering how she’d smiled when she had seen the flowers arrive, and with the knowledge he’d get to see her smile in person after practice. Well, if he played his cards right, he’d probably be able to con a smile or two out of her. He felt damn near giddy, like a kid at a county fair who had too much cotton candy and who has just accidentally won the biggest prize the fair had to offer, even though he hadn’t even come close to winning you back yet. Getting to be around you again was his win, and it was so much more than he thought he would ever get, he could feel like a little kid for the morning if he wanted to.

He could and did feel like a little kid the entire time he waived for you at the restaurant. Matthew arrived fifteen minutes early. Being late had been his specialty the first time around, not necessarily a problem often within itself, but compounded upon everything else Matthew didn’t do then, a list that seemed to grow longer the more he picked apart the past from your point of view, showing up early carried more weight. The shock on your face when you saw him already waiting at the table when the hostess brought you around was proof enough that every effort Matthew made, every single thing he took notice of from the past and changed, would make a difference. 

“Hey, how was practice?” you said as you dropped down into the seat opposite him. 

Matthew had the smallest sliver of hope that the sunflower dress would have reappeared, but he knew he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to see you look like you had when he had gotten the opportunity to take you out the first time, to do this right the first time. If he hadn’t screwed everything up with his stubbornness and his general inability to be a boyfriend, he wouldn’t be wishing for that dress right now. He could be in your apartment, holding you, face in your neck, arms around your waist, decompressing from practice and life in general. But he was here, sitting four feet apart, in the middle of a restaurant, knowing he wouldn’t even get to hold your hand on the walk to his car later because you hadn’t even driven together. 

“Um, practice was good,” Matthew told you, his mind still running through a seemingly endless list of things he could be doing with you right now if he hadn’t given up before ever really getting in the game. “How was your morning?”

“Good. Didn’t do much since I didn’t have work.” 

Matthew nodded, taking a sip of his water before doing what he would need to do over and over again, if he really did want to get the chance to love you to you again. He tried again.

“So, um, how’s your mom doing?” Matthew asked, hands trying to find a resting spot on the table, his lap, somewhere.

“Fine.”

The distance across the table felt wider with each passing second to Matthew, like you were somehow slipping further away from him with each clipped answer you gave. It was painfully obvious that the sunflowers had only gotten you to show up. The magic of them had worn off the second you sat face to face with him and had to claw through all of the emotional shrapnel that was heavy in your chest and in your mind that Matthew had caused to sit across a table from him. Just sitting across the table from him, all you had was your past with him on your mind. You had too much time to think, to remember. Matthew needed to find some way to overcome it, to make you see the him from the present and not the past when you looked at him. It wasn’t going to happen in this restaurant with nothing but time for you to get hopelessly lost in the past.

“Okay, nope,” Matthew sighed, tossing his napkin and menu onto the table. “We’re not doing lunch here.”

“You picked it,” your brows furrowed down in confusion as Matthew stood from the table. “Do you not like see anything you like?” 

“I see you,” Matthew slid in with a playful smile on his face and just for a moment, you remembered why it had been so easy to fall for him what felt like a lifetime ago. “But no, this just isn’t working. Let’s get out of here.” 

Matthew threw far too much money on the table considering the only thing you had ordered was water, but he felt bad for wasting the wait staff’s time, and started putting on his coat. You slowly rose from your seat to do the same, confusion pulling your brows together. A patented Matthew Tkachuk date was a meal and that was pretty much it. A change of venue mid-date? Multi part dates? Definitely not in his wheelhouse. Especially when you considered you hadn’t even ordered an appetizer yet.

“Where are we going?” you asked him as he gestured for you to lead the two of you out of the restaurant. 

“Honestly,” Matthew sighed as he pulled the door open for you, waiting for both of you to exit before continuing, “I don’t really have a plan. That just felt stuffy? Weird? I don’t know. It didn’t feel like us.” 

“What does us feel like, Matthew?” you sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear, a nervous habit that would never die and never stop making Matthew want to die since he thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, every single time. 

“I know what it used to feel like when it was good,” he told you. “We could talk for hours about anything. We used to be able to anyway. I know it might be awhile before we can do that again, but that wasn’t like the good parts of us and you know it.”

You sighed again, something you knew you would probably be doing a lot as you tried to give Matthew the space to just try, but the part of you, a large part of you, the part couldn’t stand not being the line leader in kindergarten, was screaming at you to do something, anything. Kiss him, which would have been the worst idea you might have ever had, slap him, also not advisable, get in your car and leave, not a great suggestion either. Just something, anything other than just standing in the street, looking at him and remembering how much it all hurt, how much it hurt to love someone who always seemed to have one foot firmly planted somewhere that wasn’t with you.

“Come on. I know a better place,” Matthew told you, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts before you could fall too deep into them.

It took everything in him not to offer you his hand. He was pretty sure holding your hand might make him cry, which wouldn’t be the best look for him, but he was pretty sure it would feel like heaven. But no pearly gates were going to open for him today. He’d have to settle for standing next to you with the knowledge that maybe heaven did exist after all.

You walked side by side with him as he weaved through the streets of downtown, staying close, but far enough apart so you couldn’t accidentally brush his hand with yours. You stayed in step with him into a nearby coffee shop, the warmer more comfortable atmosphere already sinking into you and Matthew, loosening your shoulders, the tension softening. The restaurant had been cold somehow, harsh, and considering your love for him was pretty frozen in permafrost, this was much better. 

“They supposedly, according to Benny, have the best blueberry scones in the city,” Matthew said softly.

“You know me,” you smiled softly. 

“Love a good baked good.” 

You and Matthew spoke in unison, bringing a laugh over both of you, tension continuing to loosen with each passing moment. Matthew asked you what you wanted and ordered for you, mostly so he could pay without hearing a fight from you about how you didn’t need him to pay for you. You sat down with your scone and your coffee at a table Matthew dwarfed, but he didn’t seem to mind too much as he looked at you. 

“So, take two,” he joked. “Is this better by the way? You just didn’t seem happy at all there. It seems like this is more your speed.” 

To say you were stunned that he was actually checking on you, trying to tune into your emotions, would be an understatement. He had showed up early and was asking about how you felt, genuinely. His blue eyes, long standing one of your favorite features of his, bounced across your face, trying to take in every micro expression before you could even answer the question.

“Yeah, Matty,” the older nickname sliding out, “this is better.” 

“Okay, good,” he smiled softly and this one made its way to his eyes, crinkling them at the corners. 

He asked you about work, desperate to catch up on the office drama he had missed. You asked for updates on the team, the things the media would never and could never find out about. He asked about your mom again and you actually told him. Sliding back into old ways, it didn’t feel like your relationship in the coffee shop. It felt like your old friendship. The world felt like it felt when you fell in love with him in secret originally. Matthew was actively listening to you the entire time, something he deeply struggled with because did he ever have the tendency to talk too much, but he was trying. He apologized for cutting you off once to tell his own story and you almost got whiplash when he sank back into his chair and verbally gave you the floor. He was making space for you, fully and honestly, and trying to appreciate you inhabiting the space he was making for you in the conversation and in his life. He talked too much, but there was a peace he found in listening to the best person he had ever had the privilege of knowing tell him stories, tell him about her life like she wanted to give him part of it and god, did he ever want part of your life. 

Matthew went home that day and was damn near clinical about the whole thing, breaking apart everything he could remember about how you reacted to what he said, what you seemed to appreciate and what you didn’t. He treated his memories of it all like game tape, reviewing what he considered to be a win after a rough first period showing, looking to areas of success and areas of possible improvement and man, he was finding a lot of areas to improve. He kept getting stuck on your smile, the few true ones in the coffee shop, where you looked like the girl he fell in love with instead of the hollow one he created with his own words. Matthew let himself sit with those moments for a couple of steady breaths. You were worth the effort, he reminded himself again. You were. 

The next morning you were thankfully already milling about, halfway through your coffee and halfway through getting dressed when the knock came to your front door. You had a suspicion based on the knock which somehow itself was cheery that you were going to open the door to the same delivery person as yesterday. There she was when your door swung open, ponytail swinging, smile tattooed on her face, unable to fall. This time though, she shoved a bouquet of a dozen red roses into your hands, much to your confusion. You almost asked her if she’d given you the wrong flowers, but she had already vanished who you looked up from the flowers, off to curse the next person with her cheeriness. 

When you placed them on your side table next to your sofa, the spot on the kitchen table still inhabited by the sunflowers from the day before, you at least knew she’d given you the right bouquet. 

Can’t always get you sunflowers, sweetheart. Got to keep you on your toes. :) - Matty

You immediately pulled your phone out of your pajamas pants pocket and shot off the first thing that crossed your mind to him. 

Variety is NOT the spice of life, Tkachuk. Stick to the status quo.

You got a text back shortly after exchanging your comfortable pajama bottoms for the confines of work appropriate pants. You checked your phone seven times on your walk to your car, feeling like a version of yourself you thought you left behind in middle school. You had dealt with unrequited feelings for Matthew so long, fell in love with him in secret, that when you had the chance to love him out loud, you jumped at it and so did he. It might have been the only time you had ever been completely on the same page together. Before that, you had been fast friends, falling into friendship without any effort really by either of you. This was something else. Matthew Tkachuk was putting in more effort than you saw him put into anything besides his career. The effort was making you feel like you should be back in a plaid skirt, shoving a binder into your locker, and whispering about the cute curly-haired boy from your science class, a kid with a crush who had no idea what was yet to come.

But you could only wish you had no idea of what was to come. It had already come, running you over faster than you could ask, your heart shattering under Matthew’s feet due to his carelessness. One sentence from the speech he so carelessly used to break your heart felt like this moment. At best, I think we just had middle school crushes gone off the rails. The amount of times you had fallen in and out of crushes in middle school was too high to even attempt to count. Was what you were feeling just a recurrence, a temporary realignment of the train on the tracks? Was Matthew putting in all this effort for fleeting feelings? Was he right this whole time? 

------

Matthew Tkachuk was working against himself with you, fighting the mess he’d made of you and him a month ago. He created the situation that made you build the walls he was trying to surmount with an army of sunflowers and his poor excuse for love. Matthew was good at a few things, hockey, being a pest, and creating chaos. Righting the chaos he made had never been a task that was asked of him before and now, three days after that first day in the coffee shop, he was struggling to figure out where to go from here. He wanted to make the right decision, systematically work through the heartbreak he’d caused, taking leaps each time he saw you until maybe he’d be close enough to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go again. He might have to settle for a baby step today though since you were at work, slammed with a new project from your boss, with no time to see him

He sent you lunch at work instead, from your favorite burger place you always went together. You swore you could have cried when you realized he included both sweet potato fries and regular fries, your mind pulled back to the first time you went together, back when you were just friends. 

“Should I get the sweet potato fries or regular?” you asked him. 

“Get the sweet potato ones,” Matthew told you, running a hand to push his curls out of his face. “You always get regular fries and complain about how you should’ve gotten sweet potato whenever we all go out to eat together.” 

You agreed with his suggestion, letting the conversation fall comfortably back over the two of you as you waited for your food. You hadn’t even realized time had passed when the waitress dropped off your food. Spending time with Matthew melted away stress and your perception of the passage of time, letting you live in the moment, unencumbered by the stressful comings and goings of your day to day life. 

The sweet potato fries had been a good choice. They had a honey drizzle on them and you were more than pleased with your selection. But Matthew’s regular potato fries appeared to have some sort of special seasoning on them and you were itching to try one, but Matthew wasn’t big on sharing in general, let alone when it came to food. He saw you staring at them and groaned. 

“You’re the worst,” but he flipped his plate around so the fries faced you anyway. “Don’t say I never do things for you.”

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Tkachuk.” 

You frequented that same burger joint with him throughout the years of your friendship that came after, and during your short relationship. The burgers you ordered changed, but never the fries. You got sweet potato. Matthew got regular. He let you steal as many of his as you wanted without a single complaint sliding between his lips despite dozens of repeat visits to the restaurant.

In your office, holding a container of sweet potato fries and a container of regular in opposite hands, you thought it was a little ridiculous that french fries were making tears well up in your eyes. He hadn’t forgotten. You shook your head to shake off the desperate thoughts that were swirling, the ones that were tying emotional weight to french fries of all things, and shot him off a quick text to thank him for lunch before getting wrapped back up in your day. You didn’t see his reply text until you had already kicked your heels off at home too many hours later. 

Would never forget to get my girl her whole meal :) 

Sometimes, love wasn’t big gestures. Oftentimes, it wasn’t even gestures that would make much sense to relay to other people. Two kinds of french fries wasn’t something you could explain to anyone else because it would just seem childish, but you felt cared for. Above all, you felt remembered when you’d opened that bag. You felt like Matthew Tkachuk had seen you almost two years ago in a restaurant and remembered exactly who you were in that moment and still knew who you were today. The french fries would go untold to anyone else, but they made you smile more than the roses on your coffee table when you fell asleep that night. 

The next month felt like it happened all at once. There were enough sunflowers to create your own you-pick patch of them, rose and tulips and whatever other kinds of flowers Matthew knew the names of interspersed, just to keep you on your toes. Movies nights at his place, complete with half-burnt, half-unpopped popcorn courtesy of Matthew’s non-existent culinary skills. Nights out, full of laughter and storytelling that made you feel like nothing had ever changed, like you had flipped over an extra month in the calendar, skipping one entirely, the month you’d been apart, and moved on without it. He felt like your friend again, something that had lapsed when you’d started dating. You both tried so hard, arguably too hard, to change your relationship into a romantic one that you didn’t leave space for friendship, booting it out without anything solid to fulfill its previously occupied space. The relationship collapsed without a solid core, the frail coverings of romance too heavy for the hollow center to bear. 

Matthew wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. He still talked over you, parts of his brain running faster than others. He still forgot to talk to you on road trips sometimes. He still forgot your sister’s birthday. He still resisted emotional responses from you, physically pulling back and trying to dodge conversations that would bring discomfort. The gestures were there, hundreds of them in the form of your favorite flowers, but was it enough? Did you truly believe you two were hand in hand, putting the train station of your relationship back together, or was this just an attractive paint job hiding the cracks for a few months until they became exposed again because of time? Was the effort a permanent fixture? Or was it just a passing small town station that Matthew had created to attract you, pulling you into town with the promise of nice accommodations and restaurants always being available, only to abandon them as soon as the train left the station and your life got on without you, leaving you stranded, trapped in a small forgotten town forever?

As you walked into your favorite coffee shop, you cut the line, heading right to the front like you had become accustomed to doing. Matthew had called your order in and paid for it over the phone every work day before you got there since that first day after he sent you lunch. He knew what time you usually got to your favorite shop, and worked it out with the staff that they had your order ready for you now like clockwork every day. You had been able to gain twenty minutes of sleep from it, but you were wondering now if this would all stop if you took him back or not. Really, the coffee order ceasing would be more than fine. Love wasn’t in monetary gestures like this one technically was, but what else would disappear with it? Would Matthew trying to verbally and physically make space for you in his life disappear too? Would him genuinely trying to, even if it’s hard and he’s pretty shitty at it, understand your emotions fade away? Would all the effort fragment into sporadic moments, slowly growing further and further apart until they stopped happening all together and you wasted years of your life giving Matthew Tkachuk your love and not getting enough back? 

You didn’t know the answer, which is why you were thrilled you were having dinner with some of your closest, non-Matthew related friends after work. You had been keeping Matthew a bit of a secret. Actually, a complete secret. You knew your friends wouldn’t approve at the start, so you hadn’t told them a thing. They would have told you he didn’t deserve any semblance of a second shot, that the things he had said in the past could never be overwritten by future good actions, that you weren’t supposed to give people who break your heart second chances. But now, you were at a crossroads. 

You could give Matthew more time, maintain the status quo until inevitably your heart gave out. You could open your arms to love him again, knowing full well that you would never be one hundred percent sure or not. You could brush him aside, thanking him for his temporary effort that would never be enough for you. Three clear options left you further from a solution than you thought possible. You needed advice. You needed opinions from people who only had stake in you in this relationship. You needed to be more selfish than you knew how to be, so you were passing the task off to your friends. 

While they were usually quick to pass judgment, they were silent as you went through every painstaking detail of your past month, starting with that fated text about sunflowers, through every dinner, every movie, every moment until the text you got before you sat down in this chair at dinner with them. You were exhausted by the time you got through everything, emotionally and verbally spent, feeling no closer to your answer. You had hoped retelling everything would pull you in one direction or the other, with no such luck. Your friends, however, weren’t undecided in the slightest. 

“So, you’re ending this experiment, right?” 

You were shocked, almost spitting out your drink at the harshness of the words that spilled out of your best friend’s mouth. She shrugged off your shocked expression. 

“I mean, it was a nice experiment, I guess, but a total waste of your time,” another friend added. “There isn’t any way to prove this is a permanent change and I, for one, will never tell you to take that kind of a risk. You’re too good to put up with a guy who very well could end up not being worth it.” 

Your friends were talking a mile a minute, all at you, but really at each other in their bubble of agreement, agreement that Matthew Tkachuk was not worth your time. He could buy you flowers, coffee, as many lunches as he wanted to. He could make promises about listening and trying and making an effort, but he was on trial during it all. He was under a performance review. It was a manufactured situation as far as they were all concerned, entirely unrepresentative of who he would be outside of it. When there wasn’t a close date, a date he could begin to slack off again according to your friends, and you demanded engagement and effort from him every single day without any relief from that pressure, he would fail. He would fail every single time. 

How had you not seen that? You created a situation with a time limit, a window in time he would have to be a different person than he was, with a definitive end date. Was anything he had done representative of actual change, or was it just a temporary side step towards being closer to what you needed, only to return back to his original spot when you took him back? There was no way to know if anything he had done over the last month was real or some elaborate farce.

The farce, this charade of a month, it swept the both of you up with returning feelings of seemingly endless longing from when you loved each other in secret. You were pretty sure Matthew had gotten swept up right along with you by the fantasy of fate and love being something unbreakable that would always pull people back together. This effort wasn’t real, even if Matthew believed it was. It was all part of some twisted game fate was playing by telling the both of you that you were meant to be. Two puzzle pieces that aren’t supposed to go together don’t go together, even if one tries to bend their corners until they can. Matthew thought he was cutting corners off, not just bending them, making permanent changes to fit with you, but it would never matter. The picture the two pieces that were you and Matthew created together would never be correct. You were shades of blue, like the sky on a Sunday morning as you remembered it as a child full of wonder, like the ocean, powerful and unstoppable. Matthew was red, like the deepest tones of a fading sunset, like the feeling of sitting by a fireplace on Christmas morning. Both pieces individually were beautiful and important to the larger picture, but they didn’t belong anywhere near each other. There were no transition colors. It was blue and red, black and white. They couldn’t mix. They just had to fit. And you two just didn’t fit. You didn't create a picture together. It was just two pieces trying desperately to create something you couldn't because red was your favorite color and blue was Matthew's and fate was a fucking bitch.

You were crying as you walked into your apartment building and pulled out your phone. You typed out a text that echoed one you’d received two months ago without even meaning to do it. 

We need to talk. Come over? 

It was identical to the one Matthew had sent before he set all of this in motion and you were about to mirror him even more closely. Before he came over, you had to have your words collected. You knew he would push back, try and argue that your friends didn’t know the two of you, that they didn’t know what you both felt. But feelings were fickle and often told lies and it was telling you and Matthew the same one right now, that this would work if you tried hard enough even though it would just hurt a thousand times worse when the lie became undeniable six months down the road. 

You almost didn’t notice the small package on your doorstep, eyes too clouded with tears to successfully unlock your door on the first three tries. You snatched it off the doorstep, a sob breaking through your chest when you realized it was from Matthew, no address on the package, just your name scribbled on the top in his horrendous handwriting. He had dropped this off himself and somehow that made it all feel more heartbreaking in your chest. You shuffled inside, the fourth attempt being the charm today, and tore into the package as you kicked the door shut behind you. The wrapping was even his handiwork, too much tape, not enough but somehow too much paper, and you were ruining it with tears dripping on and staining the paper. 

You sat down on the floor, back against your front door. The lid of the box slid off easily and you tossed it aside. You were greeted with a picture of your mother, one you had framed on your front table, mere feet from where you had collapsed on the floor. It was your favorite picture of her, something you had definitely told and retold to Matthew one too many times. You flipped it over in search of some reason for it’s inclusion, finding more of Matthew’s handwriting on the back. 

Hey sunflower, 

Hope work was good today :) If it wasn’t, I’m sorry and call me and we’ll talk about it. They switched our flights around for this roadie so I’m on a plane right now, but I wanted you to have these before I left. 

You told me your mom was a big part of the reason you loved sunflowers and that she had these sunflower earrings you loved growing up, but that they were lost. I saw your mom was wearing them in this picture, so I took it to a jeweler and well, they aren’t the ones your mom wore, but I hope you like them anyway. 

I know you probably aren’t ready to hear it from me, feel free to skip to the end if you aren’t, but I love you and the past month has made me realize just how much I do and how stupid I was in the past. I’m going to keep trying to get a little better every single day and maybe, if I try hard enough, I might become someone who deserves you. 

- Matty  

Your hands shook as you slowly set the picture on the ground next to you and pulled back the tissue paper. Nestled safely in the box were two golden sunflower earrings, delicate golden wire bending to make up their shape. They were identical to the pair your mother had worn almost every single day of every summer of your childhood. Except these were yours. And they were made for you by a boy who loved you who was trying really hard to become a man who loved you and deserved to be loved back by you.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter. Your judgmental friends didn’t matter. Your negative thought spirals that tried to ruin everything good you ever had that was risky because the best things in life were always inherently risky didn’t matter. Fate and whether or not she was on your side or not didn’t matter. Matthew Tkachuk mattered. His effort was real and raw and pure and the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done for you and it mattered. And all Matthew needed for all of his effort to matter was exactly one single act of effort from you. It would have to be a continuous act, a constantly, daily task, but all he needed was your patience with him. And as you sat on the floor, tears staining your cheeks, holding a pair of sunflower earrings you knew Matthew Tkachuk was worth your patience, that he was worth your love, and that you didn’t hate sunflowers at all, not even a little bit.

People weren’t puzzle pieces. You and Matthew Tkachuk didn’t fit together seamlessly to create one image because that’s not how people work. Puzzle pieces are stagnant, fixed, unchangeable. People are supposed to flex and grow and change, be mutable over time, with contact from others. You were blue now, but there was no reason to say throughout your life, from touching other people and their beautiful lives, that you would always be the same shade of blue you were now. Tomorrow, maybe you’d meet the most yellow person you had ever met in your life, and you’d be a little more green for it. Matthew Tkachuk was red and just maybe, purple was supposed to be your favorite color. 

You pulled out your phone and deleted six words and two punctuation marks you had typed walking into your apartment building, but never sent. You replaced that text with a picture of the earrings in your lap, and simple red heart emoji because you knew words would fail you and any words that came to you, you wanted to say to his face when he got back from his trip. He texted you back almost instantly, just a simple red heart emoji. Matthew had started the red hearts. When you were friends, he’d send every other color except red. But when when you started dating, he would send a red heart whenever he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t, when he was on the road and wouldn’t see you for a while, when he was across the table from you at dinner with his parents. It was one of your little quirks, little things that neither of you had forgotten, an old habit that never worked its way out of your behavior. You didn’t send red hearts to anyone else anymore, and neither did he. But you sent one to him now. 

Matthew Tkachuk sat on a plane that night, wishing he could driven across town fast enough to deserve to get pulled over and kissed you instead of sending you a stupid fucking emoji. He fell asleep that night, letting himself remember what it felt like to kiss you, something he had kept in the back of his mind for the last month because the thought of never being able to do it again made his knees pull up into his chest to try and block off pain that was unfortunately coming from inside himself. But tonight, tonight he let himself remember it, let himself pretend that you were thinking of the same thing, let himself remember what it was all like with you because you wanted to kiss him too. He fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in months and woke up the next morning with it too, still thinking about you and getting back home to you to finally get to kiss you again. 

------

Matthew didn’t even think twice when his feet touched the tarmac a few days and two road wins later. He knew where he needed to go. He got to his car and tossed his tie into the passenger seat before starting to drive way too fast to your apartment. He didn’t hit a single red light, which made him think about fate again for a brief moment, but then he remembered this wasn’t about her or anyone else. Everything was just about you, you and your love affair with big yellow flowers and hopefully, him again. He took the stairs two at a time after parking incredibly poorly in front of your apartment, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to kiss his best friend, the girl whose heart he broke, the girl that somehow didn’t hate him or sunflowers, the girl that just might love his undeserving self in spite of it all. 

He barely got two knocks on your front door before you yanked it open and Matthew could swear he wanted to die. There you were, a lightness in your eyes he hadn’t seen for months returned to you. Your hair was pulled back, the earrings he had made for you on display. His eyes drifted down, taking in the familiar golden chain around your neck, the one that had been missing for two months now, the one that held a small sunflower and the number nineteen at its base. But Matthew Tkachuk swore his heart almost gave out when he saw the familiar white neckline of that damn sunflower dress. You hadn’t worn it in the past two months, unable to take it out of your closet without crying, but you put it on today and it made you smile. 

“Hi,” he breathed out. 

Driving over with the intent to kiss you was as far as he’d gotten and you in that sunflower dress was making it impossible to think of anything other than that one word he had managed to say.

“Hi,” you breathed back, a genuine smile pulling up the corners of your mouth.

Matthew cleared his throat, letting his eyes close for a second so maybe he could try and think about something other than how you looked right now. He let his head fall back, taking in a deep breath, giving his head a shake in a vain attempt to shake off some nervousness from his mind to clear his thoughts. It worked well enough so one thought could slip through as he let his head fall forward and opened his eyes into your gaze again.

“Do I, um, get another month?” Matthew asked you, his voice timid and frail, on the edge of breaking. “Today is a month.” 

You looked up at him, eyes taking him in. The parting of his lips, the happiness that finally reached his beautiful blue eyes, the curls falling on his forehead, the wrinkled game day suit sans tie that you knew was probably crumpled in the passenger seat of his car. He was on a tightrope, ready to fall to either side with your answer. One side was absolute heartbreak, the kind he was pretty sure would taint the concept of love for him for most of this life, and the other was joy and love and happiness and everything he ever wanted. He was ready to fall with your words, giving you all the control to push him to one side or the other. 

“No, Matthew,” you told him softly.

Matthew’s face started to fall instantly and he felt like his heart dropped into his stomach where his own body started to eat away at it immediately. The dress, the earrings, the red heart, everything, he thought he had finally broken through to you. More than that, he had thought he finally was loving you in a way you wanted, in a way that you deserved. He thought he finally had enough of the pieces of what you needed, wanted, and liked together in himself to be someone you wanted to give your love to. He knew a month wasn’t a lot of time, but he’d loved for over two years now. He loved you as a friend. He loved you when he thought there were only unrequited feelings. He loved you when he was your lover. He loved you when he broke your heart out of sheer stupidity, when he thought fighting meant you would never work together, that somehow he was wrong to love you. He loved you the entire month he didn’t see you. He loved you this past month he spent desperately trying to show you he could love you through actions, not just in his own head and chest, that he could love you like a partner, like you deserved to be loved. 

“You don’t get another month,” you continued, each syllable twisting the knife deeper into Matthew’s chest. “You don’t get another month because you don’t have anything else to prove to me, Matthew.” 

Matthew willed his eyes to find yours again, hoping the hope that had just alit itself in his chest wasn’t misguided. You were calm, your eyes steady, keeping contact with his. Matthew almost dared to feel reassured for a moment, like maybe the hope he felt when you said he had nothing left to prove was correct. But if he was wrong, which he so often was in general, but especially with emotions, yours in particular, it would just serve as an additional twist of the knife. When it was already in so deep, did it really matter anymore? 

“You’re not on trial. No more tests,” you said to him, letting your love for him you had tried to store away pour out. “I want you, Matthew. I want you and me. I want to see if purple is my favorite color.” 

The purple part was beyond Matthew and he made a mental note to ask you about it in a minute, but he needed to kiss you right now. He reached out and you leaned into his touch for the first time in a long time. His hands cupped your face and you rocked up on your toes as he pressed his lips to yours. Your hands came up to rest on his chest as he kissed you so softly, tenderly. He wanted to crush you into him, but that wasn’t what this moment was. This was hopefully the end of the longest period of his life he’d ever have to go without kissing you again. He wasn’t going to rush this, his second chance with the girl who loved him for some reason and sunflowers for much more obvious reasons. 

Matthew was slow as he pulled away and tilted his head down to rest his forehead against yours. One of his thumbs shifted to ghost over your lips, his blue eyes staring into yours, but really past your eyes, and into you, seeing you better than anyone else did. He loved you without the rose colored glasses. He saw you and loved you, it had just taken him almost too long to figure out how to show it. It had almost taken him too long to figure out that love wasn’t just something you could feel and ride the feelings to bliss. Love was daily effort, trying and retrying and sometimes he would fail, but it was constantly showing up anyway. Love was hard, but holding your face in his hands, he knew you were worth the effort he planned on putting in every single day for the rest of his life. 

“I love you, sunflower,” Matthew whispered, the words left raw and unpolished by how real the feelings he injected into them were. 

“I love you too.”

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.8)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language

Laying snuggled up under the blacket Amiyah shifted sides on the couch as the tv played quietly. Not watching anything in particular but only wanting some noise in the background as she closed her eyes thinking to herself. Shuffling sounds came to the front from the back. She could hear Kelley getting ready for work. It was 5:30am and she would have to leave by now to make it on time. Hearing the footsteps getting closer her eyes opened.

“Hey girl! You sure you gonna be okay here by yourself?” Kelley bending down in front of her with eyes that showed she was worried.

Sending over a smile to console her Amiyah grasped her hand giving it a light squeeze. “I’m okay, and thanks for covering for me today. I just need a day to relax. I appreciate this.”

Not having any other choice but to take her word Kelley return a smile as she pecked her forehead before strolling towards her door. She gave her one last glance and a small wave goodbye as she left. Amiyah picked up her phone. Going through her messages she seen that she had two from Erik. They were sent some time around 11pm. She didn’t get to them because she fell asleep early exhausted from work. The only thing that was stopping her from opening them was the last text he sent that she could read through the thread.

Erik💋:You and me need to have a talk...10:57pm

Sighing and mushing her face into the pillow, her mind raveling over the things he could possibly want to talk about. Getting a text like this has never been associated with something good. It could only mean that he found out about one of her secrets. Did he know about Durk putting her out? Was there any way possible he heard about her accepting a date with Cane? The questions invaded her brain as she hesitated to respond.

“Stop being a bitch and just do it.” Talking aloud she gain the courage to click on the message.

Erik💋:Baby if your up can you call me...10:56pm

Erik💋:You and me need to have a talk...10:57pm

Was he upset about something? Amiyah couldn’t decipher his tone through the text. Tapping on his name she decided to call him instead. The ringing went on for about four times before he picked up.

“Why you ain’t call me last night.” Erik answered straight forward.

“I fell asleep. Lately I just been really tired. I’m sorry baby.” Amiyah spoke softly into the phone.

“Mm...that sweet voice you putting on not getting you out of trouble. You still at your friends place?” Erik asked already knowing the answer.

“Yeah she just left to go to work. You want to come over?” Twirling the string on her hoodie she waited for him to respond.

“I’ll be there. Let me make a quick stop and I’ll head over there.”

Nodding her head as if he could see her she gave an ‘okay’ before hanging up. Lifting up from her spot she walked to the bathroom. Grabbing her toiletry bag she reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste. Placing that to the side she went for her skincare products first, washing her face with her even bar before finishing up with a toner and a vitamin c serum. After brushing her teeth twice she checked in the mirror making sure they were nice and clean and went back in to the livingroom.

Fifteen minutes later she heard a hard knock. Getting up and checking through the peek hole she saw Erik standing there with a Dunkin Donuts bag in one hand and an orange and apple juice in the other. Unlocking the door she was greeted with a grin. Even though his hands were occupied Amiyah rushed him with a hug wrapping her arms around his neck but having to stand on her tippy toes because he was so tall and not bending down as usual.

Laughing, Erik return the hug to the best of his abilities without trying to drop the food and drinks in his hands. “Mama you gon make me drop our shit.”

“Sorry..I just missed you.” Bashfully blushing Amiyah step to the side to let him in.

Placing the items on the table that was between the furniture and tv Erik observed the area noticing the blanket and pillows sprawled out. He took off his jacket laying it on the arm rest of the couch before plopping down taking a seat. Throwing his arms on top of the couch he watched her steadily walk to him before she sat down. But she wasn’t sitting within arms reach.

“So you do all that hugging but yet you sitting all the way over there. C’mere.” He commanded.

Averting her eyes between him and the tv that was now at the time playing some old movie Amiyah slowly scooted over until she felt their thighs collide. Erik chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her neck bringing her closer to him. Now she was leaning her back into his chest holding the hand that was laying on her as they watched the movie.

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke.

“You want some breakfast? I brought a bacon egg and cheese on croissant and a sausage egg and cheese with some hash browns. Which one you want?” Leaning over, his long arm stretched out to retrieve the bag and sat it in his lap.

“It doesn’t matter. You can choose since you bought them.” She sheepishly replied.

“Unh uh mama...ladies first. Pick one baby.” He kissed the top of her head trying to tell her it was okay.

“Okay I’ll take the bacon please.”

Taking it out of the bag he handed it to her and gave her a side of hash browns as well. Amiyah thanked him and started chewing on the small potatoe bites while keeping her eyes forward on the tv. They ate in silence occasionally stealing glancing at each other. Even after they were done they still were quiet in each other’s company. It wasn’t until Amiyah’s phone alerted her that she had a text that snapped them back into reality.

Sitting up she leaned over to the other side checking it. As she glanced down at the notification her body tensed up with nerves as she swiped it away before sending her phone back to sleep. Erik noticed the change in her body language.

“Who was that?” His eyes gazing at her laying back into her previous spot.

“Kelley. She was just texting me about some rude customer she had to deal with.” Amiyah smiled nervously lying to him.

It was Cane. He sent her a good morning text and told her that he couldn’t wait until tonight. Guilt started to eat her up as she shrunk into his arms. The same accusations she tried putting on him that early morning when he asked her to be his girl were the same ones she committing now. Amiyah was trying to please both men at once. Being stuck in between a rock and a hard place she felt helpless. She wanted so badly to tell Erik but she would always wave the feeling off whenever she reminded herself that this was a one time thing. No strings attached. But she couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Erik I have to tell you something.” She paused.

Taking his attention off the television and on to her he brought his hand down to her thigh and caressed it. “What’s up.” He spoke softly.

“Two days ago me and Durk got into a fight. Not a physical one but a yelling match. I ended up saying some things that I shouldn’t have and it resulted into him putting me out. Which is why I’m here.” She said everything in one breath. It wasn’t the Cane situation but Amiyah hoped that if she was honest about this it would relieve some of the weight she was feeling right now.

Watching his face expression it was motionless. He looked unfazed about what she had just said as he sat there chewing on his bottom lip.

“Really? Nothing?” Amiyah scoffed folding her arms.

“Nah I was just wondering when you were going to tell me. That’s actually what I was trying to call you about last night. I thought I was gonna have to be the one to speak up.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You knew?”

“When I went to see your brother last night he told me everything. Then I told him I didn’t like that shit and that he needs to call you so you can go back.”

Her lips formed a small smile as she listened to him revealing how he spoke up for her. Her eyes gleamed detecting his protectiveness in his voice.

“Well what did he say?” Amiyah asked curious about her brothers reaction.

“He definitely knew he fucked up. I just seen the hurt in his eyes when he was talking about the situation. He’s worried about you Miyah.” Staring into her eyes Erik wanted her to know that he was serious.

Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling she shook her head.” He didn’t seem worried when he kicked my ass out. All he wants me to do is run back to him and depend on him for the rest of my life like he’s expecting me to. I’m not going back.”

Erik chuckled taking note of her stubbornness Durk was informing him about.

“So what you gon do? Stay here with ya friend? I don’t mean to offend you when I say this but after a while miss Kelley’s patience is gonna get short every time she sees you laying her couch and getting in the way of her alone time.” He truthfully told her.

“No she’s not like that. In fact she told me I’m able to be here as long as I want so you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice heightened circling her body around towards him.

His forehead creased. “Okay so even if it was like that, you still plan on staying here for a long time?”

“No-“

“So what you gonna do?” He cut her sentence short.

“Erik I don’t know but I don’t want to just run back. It’ll make me look weak...especially after how he treated me.” Her eyes became glossy when she shifted her head down to her lap.

Erik taking his hand tilting her chin lifting it back up. He pulled her face near his making them only inches apart from each other.

“Making up with a love one doesn’t make you weak. We only have one life and we need to spend it cherishing our family while they’re here, you never know when it’ll be the last time you see them.”

When he said that he began to recollect the times that he had with his father. He took those moments for granted. So when the tragedy happened when his father was murder it broke him down in the inside knowing that he will never be able to make anymore memories with him.

Amiyah captured his words and took them into consideration. Maybe she should make up with her brother. After losing both of their parents she couldn’t stand the thought of not having him in her life. If anything was to happened to Durk before they could make up she would be devastated and live with resentment towards herself. Maybe it was time to put her pride aside and put it behind her.

“Okay. I’ll call him later.” Sighing in defeat but filled with alleviation she cradled into him. This time she laid her head on his lap facing his torso.

Erik played in her hair smirking at her position. “If you tryna suck a little dick just say that.” He mumbled lightening the mood but knew she heard him.

Amiyah quickly got up hitting him in his chest. Going to the other side of the couch she mumbled a few words herself. “I bet it is little.” Rolling her eyes she cuddled the pillow.

Erik’s eyebrows lifted in amusement. A smile crept on his face when he stood up. Walking to her side of the love seat he stood in front of her. His hands folded behind his back as he sucked in his bottom lip making his deep dimples poke out.

“You tryna find out?” His low voice delivered a lustful tone never taking his eyes off her.

Sitting up she leaned her weight on her right arm. Amiyah was now face to face with his crotch. It was at this moment when she noticed the imprint of his dick. It was so visible anyone who saw it would assume that he was free-balling right now. Her lips involuntarily parted giving a light gasp when she seen the tip. What could she do with that?

Her doey brown eyes traveled to his face. His dark amber orbs were enticing. As if he was the devil himself tempting her to take the bait he made it worse when he stroked her cheek giving her a questioning ‘hmm’.

“I wanna see.” Amiyah retorted not knowing that her curiosity was going to get her cat killed.

“I pull my dick out you gon have to apologize for offending him. You gon be able to do that for me?” His eyes steady boring into her.

“Maybe.” Her soft voice sending chills through his body.

Erik groaned. The tenderness she spoke with always driving him crazy. To him it seem like she was ready for everything physically but not mentally. He knew that if he gave her some dick now she wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not being pleased since the last night when he was with Alexis his dick ready to stand at attention from anything. So Erik knew that he didn’t want to take out his sexual frustrations on her inexperienced pussy just yet. It’ll ruin her.

He chuckled lightly stopping his touch. “Quit frontin you know you can’t take no dick.” He teased her sitting down.

“Whatever! You don’t know that.” She chucked a pillow at him trying to plead her case.

Ignoring her Erik moved next to her and pulled the blanket off her body. His hands fondle her thighs before opening them and laying on top of her between her legs. His head resting under her breast and on top of her squishy tummy. Grabbing the cover he pulled it back over them and closed his eyes after. He felt her squirming under him shifting his body. Pinching the outside of her thigh lightly he moved his head getting comfortable again.

“Stop moving.” His voice muffled from talking into her stomach.

“Why do you have to lay on me? You’re heavy Erik.” She playfully complained.

“Shut up and rub my head.” His smile could be felt through the fabric of her hoodie.

Amiyah’s stomach filled with butterflies. Bringing her fingers to his hair she began to rub the waves in the pattern that they were flowing. The smell of a Shea and Mango butter reached her nose. Her head tilted when she heard him give her groan letting her know that what she was doing was feeling good. Her lips curled into a smile.

Around ten minutes into this position Amiyah felt his breathing slow down. They became shallow and rested. Glancing down she tried to look at his face but couldn’t see so she called him.

“Erik?”

She called a second time. “Baby?”

The moment he didn’t answer was when it came to her that he fell asleep. Her heart fluttered. It made her happy to know that he felt secure enough to fall asleep in her arms with no worries. Even when Erik was sleeping Amiyah didn’t stop her movements. In the inside she couldn’t stop her feelings from overtaking her body. She was falling for him. She was falling hard.

________________________________

Erik’s bell tower chime went off waking him out of his sleep. Hurrying to shut it off he dug in his sweats pocket grabbing the phone and turning it off. It was his usual reminder he set for himself to go on his daily jog. Checking the time it was one in the afternoon. Tossing the cell on the table he yawned examining his surroundings.

The feeling of a body under him shuffled. Lifting his head he watched as she was still in a deep sleep. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way her breast lifted up and down when she inhaled and exhale. The light twitch in her eyes. Her head turning from side to side periodically. She was like a black sleeping beauty in his eyes. She looked so peaceful he didn’t bother to wake her up.

Getting up carefully he grabbed his jacket throwing it over his body. Picking up his phone he place it back into his pocket. Erik checked to make sure he had everything that he brought with him. Bending down he kissed her lips three times making her turn her body.

“I’m bout to go mama. I’ll call you later.” He whispered in her ear.

Amiyah gave a sleepy moan. Erik smiled pecking her head one last time and left. Getting into his car he put his phone on the charger and sat it in the cup holder. Wiping the sleepiness out of his eyes he yawned before starting up his car and taking off to his place.

Scratching his beard Erik chortled thinking about how fast he fell asleep on top of her. It only took him a few minutes before he was out like a light. The feeling of her body and her hands running through his head cradle him to sleep. That was the best rest he had in a long time. Not that it was long but it was just enough. He felt well rested waking up next to her.

“What is she doing to me?” Blowing out air as he leaned into his seat driving with one hand on the steering wheel.

Erik was trying to unravel the thoughts in his head. It’s only been just under two weeks and he was already doing things with her he wouldn’t normally do with any other woman. He tried to justify his feelings to himself coming up with the excuse that he knew her longer than when they first started talking but that didn’t even work.

Before he started engaging with Amiyah he didn’t have any strong feelings for her. He liked her and would always check her out from time to time but that was it. This was different. In just such a short period of time Erik acknowledged that it was becoming more than that. She wasn’t some broad he would fuck on and then leave. He wasn’t capable of doing that. Not only out of respect for his best friend but for her as well. He cared for her and everything about her.

Arriving at his condo apartment Erik parked his car and went inside. Making it to his door he was interrupted by a phone call. Answering without looking he made his way in and hung his jacket on his coat hanger.

“Yo!” He stated to whoever it was.

“What’s up bro?”

Erik did a quick look at his phone. It was a random local number. He walked up the stairs and into his bedroom taking a seat at the edge of his bed looking out of his ceiling to floor windows gazing at the view.

“Who this?” The question came out crudely.

“Cane nigga. What’s good?”

Throwing his head back his brows lifted up with a slight surprise. “What’s up lil nigga. How you get this number?”

“Your mans Durk gave it to me that night we did some work.”

Erik nodded. “Oh so what’s up, what’s going on with you?”

“Shit just chilling right now. Yo you got paid from that job yet?”

“Yeah most def. Why, you ain’t been down at the shop yet? Durk should have your cut.” Erik replied as he got up to walk to his bathroom. He turned on the shower letting the water run.

“Nah not yet but yeah I’ma need that. Got a little date tonight so I’m tryna wine and dine and finesse shorty out of some pussy ya feel me.” Cane joked causing a chuckle to leave Erik’s lips.

“Aye do what you gotta do.”

“But no I was calling to say thanks for putting in a good word for me. Durk let me know what you said and he thinking about bringing me into the business with y’all from time to time because of that. So thank you man.”

“I just told him what I saw. A nigga that ain’t scared and with the shits. You know how to get the job done and don’t hesitate. Not gonna lie I thought you was a bitch when I met you.” Giving him his honest opinion.

“Listen that’s something you’ll never see in a nigga like me. I’m always ready to pull the trigger on anybody.” Cane boasted.

Erik smirked.“Well now I know when I saw it in person for myself.” He referred to the job.

“Exactly but I’ma let you go business awaits and yo man if you need anything hit me up. I got you!”

“I appreciate that. Peace.” Erik smiled shaking his head ending the call. He saved Cane’s number before placing his phone on the bathroom sink.

Undressing from his attire he walked inside the spacious walk in shower. Standing directly under the square shower head the water poured on him getting him soaked. His eyes closing to block them from the sudden rush. When he did Amiyah invaded the darkness in his mind. How her body felt up against his. The fullness of her lips. How her voice would go up an octave whenever she was excited. How she would nibble on her lip when she would overthink.

The simple things like that had drawn him into her. But what made his insides heat up with lust was when he replayed the way he had her moaning in the back of his car that night. Her pebble nipples perking up with ease the moment he flicked them. The grip her tight warm sticky pussy had on his fingers and he wasn’t even deep enough for his satisfaction. Her natural essence coating his tongue when he brought his hand to his mouth.

“Fuck.” Erik groaned as he took his Old Spice body wash and poured into a rag and began to lather his body.

To Erik it felt as if she was so close but yet far away from him, because he wanted her. He wanted her in a way he couldn’t have her yet. His body yearning to scratch that itch with hers. Glancing down he watched his dick grow with every thought. Erik wasn’t one to jerk off much since he always had access to some pussy on the regular but due to the circumstances of his new relationship he had no option.

“Calm down big man...we gotta be patient.” He chuckled when he talked to his appendage.

Adding more soap to his rag his body became covered with small bubbles. Traveling down low he washed his long and girthy member. Hanging the towel up on the handle he used his free hand to stroke his dick. Leaning one hand against the tile wall for support he glanced down and noticed the precum dripping out. He used his thumb and massaged the sensitive tip with the liquid before gripping the shaft and going up and down.

“Damn Amiyah...” He mumbled in a hush tone.

Putting his imagination to work he began to fantasize about her being in the shower as well and on her knees in front of him. Water flowing between her heavy brown titties. Her mouth open and tongue out waiting for her reward after sucking him dry with her tight lips. Soft brown eyes staring up while running her nail tips up and down his thighs creating goosebumps.

“Please give it to me Daddy...I want it.”

He could hear her moan the words in her soft pretty voice. His hand circled around his sensitive tip,which was his spot, as he worked to get his nut. The feeling of his abs tightening up let him know he was right there. He continued to stroke the shaft the way he liked it this time with a firmer grip imagining it was her tight walls.

“Shit..get it mama.” His toes curled into the wet floor not stopping his motion.

He was there. All of his energy was going to get drain out through his orgasm. Pinching his eyes closed and biting on his bottom lip he felt the pulsing at the head of his dick. Getting closer and closer to his climax until...

The sudden sound of his phone ringing made his eyes snap open. It alarmed him. His focus was gone. He could no longer see the image of her body he made up in his mind. Cursing to himself he was heated. Just when he was about to get the release he needed, it was taken away from him.

Turning the knob and walking out the shower he wiped his hand with a bath towel and wrapped it around his waist. He answered the call with irritation radiating through his voice.

“What!”

“Nigga you want to tell me why yo bitch Alexis is calling my place of business making threats she can’t keep.” Durk blared through the cell.

Erik shook his head forgetting about the situation.

“Shit! Look man don’t worry about that. I’m on the way right now.”

_________________________________

Seven thirty in the evening rolled around as the time was getting closer to her ‘date’ with Cane. Checking her hair in the bathroom Amiyah fluffed out the curls. She didn’t want to do to much so she settled for a basic body wave look. Amiyah didn’t want to go out her way to try and impress the man that she was only going to see for this one time and hopefully never again.

The black sweater maxi dress with a side slit clung to her curves. Deciding that it was appropriate for the night because it didn’t reveal too much it was any easy choice for her. Her thoughts were interrupted when Kelley stood in the doorway eating a bowl of ice cream. She observed her outfit with a grin.

“Okay bitch I see you! Where we going out tonight?” She cheered her on while taking spoonfuls of her dessert.

Amiyah laughed putting on her diamond studs.

“I’m actually going on a date tonight.”

“Aww with Erik..that’s so cute.” Kelley’s lip pouted as she admired her friend’s wardrobe.

Hesitantly Amiyah looked back in forth between herself in the mirror and Kelley. “Um. It’s with someone else.” Her words were mumbled.

Kelly’s eyes lit up looking amused before walking over next to her friend. “Sis are you treating these niggas like Lori Harvey? Let me find out.”

Their laughter became suspended when Amiyah got a text notification from Cane. He told her that he was waiting for her outside.

“Oh my God he’s here already.” She stated nervously as they both exited the bathroom.

“Hold up, he’s where?” Kelley put her bowl in the sink.

“Outside. I told him to meet me here.”

Amiyah watched as her eyes widened. “Bitch why you tell that nigga to come here. He could be crazy as hell.” Walking to her door Kelley peeked through the window blinds.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t know what else to tell him. I can’t meet him at the restaurant because I have no car and I don’t think he’s like that so you shouldn’t worry.” Amiyah spoke with reassurance so she wouldn’t have to worry as she grabbed her purse along with her trench coat.

“I hope you’re right. Don’t forget to share your location with me and be careful Amiyah.”

“Already done and I am careful.” Walking to the front door she gave Kelley a small smile and a glance before leaving.

When she made it outside she seen the black BMW parked in front of the house. Cane got out with a smile covering his face. He was wearing a cream colored turtleneck with black slacks. An all black LV jacket with 3D pockets draped over his fit and two gold chains to finish the look. Stepping off the porch she made her way to his vehicle.

Cane’s fist balled up to his mouth as he shook his head smirking. “Mm mm..damn ma you showing out tonight.” Walking up to her he greeted her with a hug holding her waist.

Amiyah couldn’t stop herself from blushing with the little distance they had between them. He was a little rougher than Erik but his touch still ignited something in her body. She returned the gesture quickly wrapping her arm around him and then released. She felt his hand swiped pass her butt when he let her go.

“You ready to get out of here?”

Shyly giving him a ‘yes’ she allowed him to walk her to his car guiding her by the small of her back. When they reached it he did a light jog to his side hopping in. Amiyah’s face screwed up when he didn’t opened her door. Mentally rolling her eyes she let herself in.

“So where are we going?” She started up a conversation to prevent an awkward car ride.

“The Signature Room. It’s a little drive so it might take us a while to get there. That okay with you?” He plucked at the cuff of his jacket.

Fiddle with her earring she gave a shy smile. “Of course.”

The ride lasted forty-five minutes. The tall look alike skyscraper building glowing with lights beamed in her eyes. Cane drove through a parking garage finding a spot. Shutting off the car they both got out simultaneously.

“Why are we here?” Her face brighten becoming agape.

They walked hand in hand towards the elevator.

He chuckled. “The restaurant is on the top floor to give you a view of the city.”

When they reached the top the doors open to a beautiful dimly lit restaurant. Tall windows with white drapes surround the restaurant. The pleasant smell of spices and herbs filled her nose. With her eyes dancing around Amiyah noticed that majority of the consumers were high class white people. She felt out of her element as they walked to the hostess.

“Welcome to The Signature. May I have your name?” The small petite lady spoke cheerfully.

“Last name Tejada and first is Lorenzo.” He replied with confidence.

“Oh yes Tejada! I see here that you recommended a private area for you and the lovely young lady here. Which I love your dress by the way. But yes follow me please!”

Cane glanced over watching Amiyah blush from the unexpected compliment. His eyes explored her body appreciating the silhouette that her dress was teasing him with.

Making it to the table the hostess left behind two menus before parting with a smile. Cane reached for her jacket helping her take it off. Amiyah gave him a soft thank you while observing the table.

It was facing directly out the window. The city’s lights giving a luminous glow into the building. The wrap around booth made it easy for them to have dinner with a view. Slipping inside she sat her purse to the side of her then folded her hands in her lap.

“Wow this place is beautiful. Great pick.” Her expression marveled at his choice.

Taking off his own jacket he places it next to him once he found his spot beside her.

“Thank you. I promised you I would bring you to the finest of the finest and here we are.” He stared into her eyes as he laid his arm around her resting it on the dining booth.

Amiyah’s face flushed with nerves. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as she tugged on her earlobes to help calm her down. She became extremely jittery under his gawking eyes.

“Well thank you for bringing me here.” Giving him a light smile she picked up the menu going over the dishes.

“Of course. I just hope this isn’t the last date we have together.”

There was that word again. Her mind immediately thought of Erik. Here she was on a date with a random man while she was hiding it from her man. Her memory went back to her and Erik laying on the couch together as they fell asleep earlier this morning. Her body missed the weight of his being pressed on top of her. The feeling of his hands caressing her thighs to help get him to a relaxed state. She became filled with regret with every flashback.

Minutes had past by when the two of them quietly glanced over their menus. The silence was intense and thick. Amiyah stayed to herself not knowing what to say especially with the emotions she was dealing with. But Cane broke her muteness when he asked her a question.

“So tell me about yourself?” His arms now folded resting on the table.

“What do you want to know?”

He snickered. “Anything you want to let me know.” His voice became soft and attentive.

Clearing her throat she responded. “Well um..I’m 21. My birthday is in March. I work at a boutique called Bella Ellas. My favorite color is purple and I have one brother that I live with. Or used to.” She mumbled the last sentence low enough for him to not be able to hear it.

“No shit my birthday is in March too!” He sipped on the water that was brought to the table just seconds after they were seated.

Amiyah’s eyes lit up. “Really? What day?”

“March 5th, what about you?”

“March 16th. Your a Pisces too?”

“Yup, best zodiac sign out of the bunch.”

He bobbed his head as they laughed.

“Wait so what about you? Lorenzo? I would have never guessed that to be your real name.” Placing her hand under her chin she watched him lean back into the seat.

Cane laughed and folded his arms. “Yeah I was named after my dad. With me being the oldest of my siblings I had no choice but to be the one.” He threw his hands up.

Amiyah smiled feeling herself becoming comfortable. “So how did you get the nickname Cane?” She asked interested in his background.

“When I was a kid I used to go crazy around the house. I had so much energy just storming all over the place like a hurricane. So that’s what they called me, hurricane. But when I got older I stuck with it and changed it to Cane for short. I never felt like Lorenzo fitted me.” He tapped his fingers on the table as he finished telling his story.

Her body moved next to his. Both of their backs against the booth. Bumping his shoulder with hers playfully she gave him a gentle smile.

“I like Cane better anyways.” Her soft voice was comforting to him.

Canes eyes glanced at her full glossy lips. Sucking in his bottom lip he leaned his face closer to hers.

“And I like the way you say my name.” His voice low and deeper.

Amiyah studied him knowing what was coming next. She watched his hand travel up to her face caressing her cheek. Her eyes closing as she felt him pull her into a kiss.

_______________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

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[asciendo]

It’s Time

Chapter 22 

Jean was the cocky bastard that walked around like he owned the place. Y/N couldn’t stand him so when the time came that you were his sparring partner, you couldn’t wait to teach him a lesson.

Little did the both of you know, that sparring match would be the start of your unexpected relationship with Jean Kirschtein, that will change your life, and the rest of the Scout Regiment forever.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14/Chapter 15/Chapter 16/Chapter 17/Chapter 18/Chapter 20/Chapter 21

Tag list:  @empty-glass-full-of-emotion @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91@princess-peaches1 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag

It was your 9th month into your pregnancy and all you wanted was the baby to finally out of you. Your mood swings and cravings were unbearable, and you wanted your old body back.

"How's Y/N?" Connie asked Jean as they lounged in the dorms. You and Jean had moved into a shared room now that you were pregnant. The baby was almost due so Hange decided it was best to keep you and Jean together so it would be easier to care for the baby once it was born.

"Moody as always." Jean grunted. The past two months, your hormones were driving you insane. One day you were all sweet to Jean, asking him if he wanted massages and making food, other days you couldn't stand to see him blaming him for the pain you were experiencing during the pregnancy.

"I can't do anything right! I bring her all the food she wants! She craves for fucking pickles at 3 in the morning and I run over there to get them for her!" Connie chuckles as Jean plumps back down on the couch.

"That's what you get for not being careful." Eren states from across the room which causes Jean to shoot up.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP JAEGER—" Connie pulls Jean back down before he could finish.

You and Sasha enter and sit in the couch across Jean and Connie. Jean picks up an apple from the table and as he's about to bite, you look at him with puppy dog eyes.

"What?" He asks and you smile. "Can you get me some soup?"

"B-but I was just about to eat!" Jean whined. But as soon as he saw your eyes, those puppy dog eyes that he could never refuse he grunted and stood up from his seat into the kitchen. Smiling proudly at yourself you grabbed Jean's apple and continued to eat it.

Jean came back with your soup to find you munching on his apple. "Seriously?" He sighed as he dropped the soup in front of you.

"This is so entertaining." Sasha chuckled and you laughed as well.

Your smile instantly dropped when you saw the exhausted look on Jean's face. You felt guilt overwhelm you on how hard you were being on him. You felt like everything was happening to you and forgot he was going through this too. How he told you how anxious he would be whenever they had a mission and would have to leave you behind. How you would feel his hid rest on your stomach at night while you were asleep, checking if the baby was okay. You cursed yourself for being terrible and inconsiderate towards him and wanted to let him know how much he meant to you.

That night in your shared room, you were lying on the bed while Jean was reading a book by the window. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes and regretted asking him to make you something during your late-night cravings.

You stood up from your bed and knelt in front of him.

"What is it now?" he grumbled as he continued to read his book.

"I'm sorry." You sighed, but Jean continued to read his book. "Jean...can you please look at me?" He sighed and finally met your gaze.

"I'm sorry for being...such an ass to you the last few months," you started and he dropped his book to his lap.

"I felt like I was the only one going through this and I didn't take into consideration how you must be feeling—I know it's scary for you too and I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Jean...you mean the world to me, and I don't want to ever make you feel like I take you for granted." Jean looked away from you, so you continued.

"I know you're tired. I know you do everything you can to make me feel as comfortable as I can be, You're going to be a good father, and I know I am so lucky that you are going to be the father of our baby." Jean suddenly looks at you and his face softens.

"It feels good to hear you say that." He smiles lightly.

"That I'm sorry?"

"No...that I'm going to be a good father." You look up at him and you sigh. You could see him fumbling with his hands and you grab them. "I always knew you were going to be a good father, that was the only thing I was sure of this whole pregnancy." Jean smiles at you and you take his face in your hands and kiss him.

"Wait...I don't forgive you yet..." He said teasingly and you pull away. "What?!"

"You have to make it up to me." Jean smirks and you roll your eyes. "I'm nine months pregnant, Jean." You back away but he pulls you closer. "I know there are other ways you can make it up to me." He teases and you smile seductively at him

You lower yourself down to his crotch and unzip his pants. You look up at him and he already has his head leaned back. "I love you." You say, and he raises his head once more. "I love you too." He replies and you begin to show him how much you love him with your mouth around his cock.

***

The next week, you were alone in your room as the rest continued to train. Suddenly, you felt something wet between your legs and your eyes grew wide. The baby was coming.

You make your way over to the training field and spot Jean sparring with Connie.

"JEAN!" You yell but he ignores you. You roll your eyes and call him once more, "JEAN!"

"WHAT!" He yells as he continues to grapple Connie's head. "IT'S TIME!"

"TIME FOR WHAT?! Y/N I'M BUSY—"

"Such an idiot." Mikasa sighs next to him. Before she tells him what's going on you scream at him with so much anger as you start to feel contractions.

"JEAN, THE BABY IS COMING AND IF YOU'RE NOT HERE IN 10 SECONDS I AM GOING TO KILL YOU MYSELF!" You yell and everyone freezes. Jean doesn't move but Connie is suddenly pushing him towards you.

Jean bruns to you and grabs you hand and attempts to run.

"SHE CAN'T RUN, YOU IDIOT!" Sasha yells as the rest follow you and Jean to the infirmary. Jean suddenly picks you up and begins running.

"How do you feel?" Jean pants as he carries you.

"I FEEL LIKE I'M GONNA DIE!" You yell and Jean tells you to calm down.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP!" You tell and Jean whimpers in panic.

You and Jean burst into the infirmary and as soon as the nurse sees you, she rushes to get a stretcher.

Jean lays you down on it and the doctors grab the stretcher from him.

"Wait I want to be there—"

"Leave them Jean. You'll just be a distraction." Levi announces from behind and Jean slowly nods as he watches you get rolled away.

Your entire squad is there including Levi and Hange. Hange was bouncing up and down until Levi reprimanded her.

"If it's a girl you should name her Sasha!"

"Shut it, it's going to be a boy and I know Jean will name him Connie!"

Eren rolls his eyes at their banter while Armin giggles. Suddeny, Jean feels a figure sit next to him.

"How are you?" Mikasa asks. Jean's fingers are trembling as his leg bounces up and down.

"Not good..nervous."

"Don't be. You're a good leader, Jean. You'll be an even better father" Jean smiled back up at her and she smiles at him as well. There was a time all Jean could think about was Mikasa but ever since you came into his life, his mind and heart have all been you. He still respected her though, so hearing her say that meant a lot to him.

Before he could respond, the doctor's doors burst wide open and everyone stood up.

"Jean...come in." The nurse smiles but Jean remained frozen.

Mikasa nudged him and Jean began to walk forward. Looking back at everyone, Hange was shaking with joy, Connie and Sasha were giving him a thumbs up, Mikasa and Armin were smiling, Eren nodded and even Captain Levi had a small smile on his face.

Jean walked in the room and saw you holding a tiny baby in your arms. You were glowing. He thought he's never seen anyone that beautiful in his life and he smiled.

"Come here." You looked up at him. He could tell you were crying but it was happy tears.

"It's a boy." You beamed and Jean's smile grew wider. He slid in next to you on the bed and he wrapped his arms around you and your baby.

"I'm so happy..." he whispered as he caressed your son's cheeks.

"Here, hold him." You looked at Jean but he froze for a bit before taking the baby in his arms.

"I promise...I'll protect you. My whole life I won't stop..." Jean begins, and you lean your head against his arm.

"I've never felt this way before..." You smile at him and observe his loving gaze towards your son.

"What do you want to call him?" You ask Jean. His brows furrow for a bit, trying to think of a name that would suit your son.

Out of nowhere he smiles and you giggle.

"What? Don't name him something stupid." He chuckles at your reaction but places a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Marco. His name is Marco."

[emcon-imagines]

Finally Okay, Pt. 3

part 1, part 2

gif

characters: Wanda Maximoff x reader words: 2194 summary: reader and Wanda are close friends, one joining the Avengers and one going rogue after Sokovia. But after one terrible night, Wanda is forced to face the reality of your mission for revenge. a/n: ahhh fingers crossed please don’t let this flop lmao I worked real hard on this part and you can catch up if you haven’t read parts 1 + 2 yet!!! but anyways surprise and merry christmas!!!!! it’s like a little additional gift to you guys and the conclusion to this trilogy. tagging: @moonlit-imagines​ and @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​, who both expressed interest in a part 3!

You sat with Wanda for a long time in containment, saying nothing, but her familiar presence calming you down enough that your stomach started to churn less and less, and the shaky, panicky feel began to dissipate into exhaustion.

“You still with me?” Wanda murmured as you laid into her, head resting against her shoulder. She squeezed your hand again, trying to get a read on where your mind was. “You seem better.”

You lifted your head up as the door opened, simultaneous with the mechanical beeping of it unlocking. Wanda seemed to sense you tense and she didn’t let go of your hand, even as you clenched hers harder.

“Y/N?” one of the SHIELD agents in the doorway asked. “We’re going to have you stop by the lab to get checked out one more time, and then someplace more permanent for you to sleep tonight.”

You looked at Wanda, uncertainty etched across your face, as you mouthed the word “lab?” with the fear unmistakable in your eyes.

“They’re gentle,” Wanda said. “They’re not going to hurt you. Probably just make sure...” she nodded at the bandage on your stomach. “Well, you really tore yourself up there,” she said, almost ruefully.

You considered her words and finally nodded, sliding off the cot and wincing at the muted stab in your side, still hugging the shawl over your shoulders, as if it could offer some sort of protection from the unknown. When you got to the door, the SHIELD agent waved over to Wanda, who had gotten up as well, but was still standing on the other side of the room.

“Coulson asked if you could stay with y/n,” the agent said. “It’s better than...” he trailed off, glancing down at you and then back at Wanda, who was glaring at him.

“Sedating them again?” Wanda asked. She stepped over. “That’s what HYDRA used to do. You scared them, working on them while they were asleep.”

“That wasn’t my call,” the agent said, quietly. “But... I’ll let Coulson know.”

“It won’t happen again,” Wanda said, and you weren’t sure if she was talking to you or the agent.

The journey to the lab was quick, though you couldn’t ignore the stares from other agents, and the way many of them stopped walking completely to let the five of you, the main agent accompanied by two others, pass. You tried to look braver than you felt, standing up straight, putting up the same mask of anger that had helped you survive for so many years with HYDRA, your eyes dark and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a hard slash.

It was clear that Wanda wasn’t comfortable around the agents either, perhaps she would have preferred Natasha or Clint be the liaison instead, but if she did feel that way, she didn’t say anything about it. She’s here, isn’t she? Not her hero friends. Wanda came.

There were only two people in the lab when you arrived, but it seemed busy enough for ten times that amount of people. Not like any of the labs you had seen before. It was well-kept, though lived-in, a mug of tea here, a sweatshirt tossed over a chair there. Work covered the lab benches; you could only begin to guess what SHIELD was working on.

“Hi,” the new woman said, and gestured to a medical station set up behind a glass partition. “You can sit right over there, I’m just finishing something up first.” The others agents stopped at the door, not going any further, and you stepped into the lab cautiously, as if breathing could break something.

“Fitz, where did you put my notes when you moved them?” the woman asked. “Was two tables not enough space?”

“I put them over there,” Fitz said, pointing to where you had been directed to sit.

“Oh.”

You said down on the edge of the cot just as the woman, who you realized must have fixed you up earlier, joined you, finding her notes. “Sorry about that,” she said. “We’re all over the place today, Fitz is trying to build a... well... never mind, that’s a whole other thing.” She pulled a tool off a shelf, something that looked like a gun and you flinched. “Mind if I take your temperature again?” she asked. “I want to see if it’s gone down at all.”

You relaxed and nodded, picking at the paper unrolled on the cot underneath you. She held the thermometer up to your head and read it when it beeped.

“Hmm. You’re still a bit warm. How are you feeling?”

“Y/N runs warm,” Wanda interrupted, and you looked over to see her leaning against one of the lab benches, her arms crossed. “Something to do with their powers. It’s why they’re always cold, too.”

“So, you radiate it all out?” Simmons asked. “And so it’s like you leave none for yourself?” She smiled a little as she put the thermometer away and scribbled a note down. “That’s neat.” She glanced back at you. “I mean, it’s just interesting is all.”

“Thanks.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow at Wanda, they talk?, before picking up her notes and writing something else down. “When was the last time you had a doctor’s appointment?” she asked. “I mean, a real one.”

“Um...” you glanced down at your feet. “Never?” You had managed to avoid doctor’s all these years, even the time you had the flu, or the time you nearly cut your own finger off trying to cook. Glancing at the nasty scar on your thumb, you began to think that maybe that was a mistake. From the other side of the room, you heard Wanda’s exasperated sigh.

“Right, okay,” Simmons said. “Well, I’m going to try to make this as painless as possible, as long as... well... you’re going to have to promise to help me out here. Have you eaten yet? I can send Fitz to the cafeteria to get you something to eat while we talk. What do you like?”

“I’m a bit occupied at the moment,” Fitz said from the other side of the lab, earning a hard look from Simmons, under which he finally relented. “Sorry, what do they like?”

Simmons kept her promise, which surprised you, and you kept yours, which maybe surprised you even more. She checked on your wounds and changed your bandages, tried to find out if anything else hurt that she had missed when you arrived, and only gave you one shot-- a flu shot-- of all things. And you finally ate, picking at the layers of the sandwich Fitz brought, eating one ingredient at a time, swatting Wanda’s hand away when she tried to steal one of the apple slices Fitz brought as well.

“You’re not going to share?” she asked, nudging you and giggling.

“No.”

“Brat,” she said, but she was still smiling. “After all this, you won’t even share one?” You saw red magic light up around her fingers and you clutched the bag of cut apples closer to you, knowing what she would try. “What if I--”

“Nope.”

Simmons’ exam ended shortly after that, and the SHIELD agents returned to escort you to your next destination, which the scientists had referred to holding. It was a stark white room, the walls made up of the same material your original containment cell had been made of, but this room was warmly lit, with a real bed, couches, a desk, and even a television screen. There were clean clothes laid out on the bed, grey sweatpants, socks, and a grey SHIELD sweatshirt, heavier than you expected. Warmer. There was a bathroom, too, already stocked with tiny soaps and shampoos, and you finally got to scrub the blood and soot off of yourself, turning the water as hot as possible and watching the grit run down the drain.

“Better?” Wanda asked, when you got out of the shower, examining the sweatshirt you had changed into. “You look better.”

You nodded, flopping onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling, just as the door opened again, and Wanda stood up from the couch to see who was there. “Hey, how are you?” Phil Coulson asked, stepping through the doorway, tablet in hand. You looked at Wanda, who gestured back to Coulson.

“He asked you, not me.”

“Tired,” you said. “Um... but all right.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing,” Phil said sitting down on the couch. He turned to Wanda. “Natasha dropped some things off for you if you want to grab them and clean up as well.”

You realized that Wanda still had blood, your blood, under her fingernails, and that she had been there the entire time you had. Did she not even leave this place once? When Wanda did step out, you sat on the edge of the bed, eying Coulson, still trying to figure him out. Is this someone I can trust?

“This won’t be too long,” he said. “I’m going to let you rest. I just wanted to talk with you a little more. Is that all right?” When you didn’t respond, he went ahead, glancing down at something on the tablet. “So, Simmons mentioned something in her notes here about your temperature readings. I’m assuming that has something to do with your abilities? Can you walk me though that?”

You paused, staring at your hands. “Um. They said I run hot. I heat things up with my hands... usually.... but sometimes without even touching them.”

“Is that how the fire started?” he asked softly, and you nodded.

“I didn’t want that to happen,” you said. “No one was supposed to be there.”

“I know you didn’t,” Coulson said, and you blinked, surprised. “Powers can be unpredictable. Scary, if you’re new to them, or if you were never trained.”

“I was trained to burn things,” you said. You remembered the trials, trial after trial, leaving you colder and weaker each time, unable to stop shivering, curled up against the glass wall of your cell, where a heat from the lab had warmed the glass enough for you to sleep.

“Wanda told me,” Coulson said. “I’m sorry for what you went through there.” He took another read through of his notes. “We’re going to bring someone else in to do a psych eval tomorrow morning. He’s one of the best, even helped our own. I think you’ll benefit from talking to him. And we’ll go from there. How does that sound?”

You nodded once, and Coulson stood back up, adjusting his suit as he looked around the room. “Get some rest for tonight. Simmons might be by a few times to check on you, and if you need anything in the meantime--” he pointed at a button under the screen “--call button is right there.” Just as he prepared to leave, the door unlocked and opened again, Wanda stepping back in, having cleaned up and changed herself, dropping a duffle bag by the door. She and Coulson nodded at each other as he left, the lights in the room dimming in his wake, something more suitable for sleeping.

You leaned back on the bed, sinking into the pillows, though the constant undercurrent of anxiety prevented you from relaxing completely. “Can you stay?” you mumbled, not daring to ask the question any louder, afraid of the answer. “Just until I fall asleep.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up, too,” Wanda said, crossing the room and sitting down on the other side of the bed. “Okay?” You had pulled her shawl over yourself again and she reached over to tuck it tighter around you, you pulling away for a moment.

Oh.

It was love. All of it, all around you, you realized, was love. Something you had been certain you didn’t deserve, especially in places when there was so little to go around, acts of kindness existing only in mercy. 

Wanda paused, waiting for you, as your heart beat a little faster. It was too much, sometimes, overwhelming to think about, these people with so much love to give, relentless until you were ready to accept that perhaps you deserved some peace after all. Not despite your past, but because of it.

Finally, you laid back down on the bed, leaning into her, tucking yourself in close to her warmth, sighing as a burden was lifted off of you. “There you are,” Wanda said, her hand rubbing your back as she pulled you in closer, and this time, you didn’t feel like you had to escape. It was okay. You were okay.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shutting your eyes, already drifting off.

Wanda planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled in response, the first smile she had seen in a long time from you. It was safe to sleep here. There was enough warmth to go around. Your head rested in the crook between her arm and her chest as she laid back as well, her hoping maybe you finally would sleep peacefully for the first time in a long time.

“I’ll be right here in the morning,” she repeated again, the last thing you heard before you finally rested, finally okay at last.

[aethes-bookshelf]

three times you’d met & a fourth you remembered || Mirio/Reader

This took me SO LONG to finish and I don’t even know why. Also it’s 3 am where I live and I should be asleep. Do with that what you will.

Quoting the great @readwithcindy:

Bone Apple Titty.

Pairing: Mirio x Reader

Warnings: none, this is just pure fluffy goodness

AO3 link

The weather was unusually good for a late fall afternoon; the sun was still out, the birds were chirping and there was this nice breeze – not too cold, not too warm. School kids had just finished their club activities and were on their way to their homes. Some were walking with friends, some alone, but all of them were happy about the next few hours of complete freedom. Mirio wasn’t an exception. He hummed cheerfully while walking down the street. He was strangely happy, even for himself. But how could he not be, when his classes went well, he had fun with the people from his club and he started getting a better grip on how exactly his Quirk worked. It had been a great day, for better or for worse.

Mirio noticed a single orange butterfly – probably one of the last of the year. It fluttered around right above Mirio’s head. He stopped to look at it. The grin on his face just got bigger.

But apparently his happiness wasn’t something to cherish to some people. Mirio’s upperclassman, a guy slightly taller and stockier than him, bumped right into him despite the street around them being relatively empty; then he grumbled something about 'stupid second-years'.

Mirio’s bag tumbled to the ground. He stared at it for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh. Such a small thing ruining his day? Never. That wouldn’t be his style at all. He could never be a hero who’d save a million people if he let some stupid jerk ruin his good mood.

He leaned down to pick up his school bag, and his fingers brushed someone else’s. That mysterious someone was also trying to pick up his bag. They had a bright orange bracelet on their wrist; but their uniform was a deep shade of green. Interesting combination, Mirio thought.

‘How’s it going?’ he asked.

'Pretty good! Oh, and sorry for that guy. He pretends to be all tough, but he’s a sweetheart deep inside.' The girl in front of him was speaking really fast. She was still holding his bag, gesturing wildly with her free hand.

'I’m not a sweetheart' mumbled the guy behind her.

'Yes you are, Keiki!' she turned back to Mirio. 'The girl he likes rejected him today, so he’s in a bad mood.'

'Why’d you tell him that?!'

'Because you owe him an apology for just bumping into him like that.'

'No problem.' Mirio shrugged slightly, still smiling. 'I don’t let stuff like that get to me.'

'That’s good.' She smiled back. 'I wish I could say the same thing.'

They finally got up. She passed Mirio his bag.

'Well then, have a good day,' she said.

'Thanks, you too!'

She hurried after her friend. They both were out of sight just as quickly as they’d appeared.

Mirio was beaming. He knew his day was still a good one. And now that a cute girl had helped him pick up his bag – even though he was perfectly capable of doing that himself – it started to change into a great one.

The orange butterfly fluttered above Mirio’s head.

* * *

It was Mirio’s first day at U.A. The welcoming ceremony had just finished, and he was walking back home.

Tamaki was right by his side, flustered by all the attention they had gotten from their new classmates. And while he had a small, subtle smile dancing on his lips, Mirio was sporting the biggest grin; he didn't think he’d ever smiled that much in his life.

‘I can’t believe we’re finally starting our hero course for real. And we’re in the same class!’ Mirio said. There was a spring to his step. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, I knew we’d both make it, but it still seems unreal, you know? It’s like a dream come true! Well, not that it isn’t…' Mirio laughed sheepishly. 'I’m rambling again, sorry.’

A small, orange butterfly flew right behind them.

‘It’s okay. I like hearing you talk,’ said Tamaki. ‘It’s pretty amazing how much you can say without running out of things to talk about. I wish I could do that.’

‘Oh, don’t sulk, Tamaki! I’m sure you’ll learn. Besides, it’s not like you never know what to say, you’re just afraid of talking too much.’

‘It’s not… I…’ Tamaki stuttered a bit. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said.

Mirio laughed a bit.

‘You worry too much. People like you, I mean it. You’re cute and talented, and you’re a genuinely good person. You just have to give yourself a chance.’

‘It’s easy for you to say. You already shine so brightly it’s blinding. You’re going to become the hero everybody wants to be. And me…’

Mirio stopped walking. He looked way more serious now. He took Tamaki by the shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes.

‘Listen – if not to yourself, then to me. I’ve told you many times, you’re great! And you’re going to become an even greater hero. Do you trust me enough to believe that?’

Tamaki looked away and nodded slightly.

‘That’s the spirit! Now come on, we have to celebrate. How about we get some ramen, huh? What do you say?’ Mirio wrapped an arm around Tamaki’s shoulder.

‘I’ve heard that a new ramen place opened somewhere around here,’ said Tamaki. ‘Maybe we could eat there? If you wanted to…’

‘Sure!’ said Mirio. He looked around the street. ‘Where exactly is it?’

‘It should be somewhere straight ahead.’

‘Alright. Do you know what it’s called?’ asked Mirio. ‘Probably something to do with ramen. Maybe something simple like… Wait a minute!’

‘Wait a minute?’

‘No!’ Mirio leaned forward. ‘Isn’t that one of our senpais?’

He pointed towards a huge guy wearing a U.A. uniform. He was towering over a girl in a dark green uniform Mirio didn’t recognise. It seemed like she was teasing the guy; he was blushing like crazy. But even though he was embarrassed, he seemed happy. And so did she. Her face was split by the biggest, brightest smile he’d ever seen. He felt his heart skip a beat.

‘And who’s that girl? She’s really cute!’

‘Mirio!’ Tamaki whisper-yelled. ‘You shouldn’t say that so loudly. They might hear!’

As if on cue the big guy glared at them, but the girl didn’t seem to mind, so he kept on walking.

Mirio heard her talking really, really fast.

‘I mean, if you want to buy that plushie then buy it. Those jerks from your class shouldn’t stop you. Just because they’re too cowardly to admit they like cute stuff too doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. Besides,’ she lightly elbowed her friend’s side ‘there’s nothing more manly than challenging stupid stereotypes like this one. 'Guys can’t like plushies'. BS, I say!’ She was gesturing wildly. There was an orange bracelet on her wrist.

The guy sighed heavily.

‘I guess you’re right’.

‘See? Now let’s go get you that plushie, Keiki!’

‘I’m gonna talk to them,’ said Mirio.

‘What?’ Tamaki looked genuinely frightened.

‘I’ll go talk to them.’

‘What? No, Mirio, wait!’

But Mirio was already leaving. He approached the pair and smiled.

‘Hello!’

Keiki glared. ‘What do you want?’

‘Don’t be rude!’ said the girl.

‘It’s fine!’ Mirio chuckled. ‘I just wanted to ask about this new ramen restaurant that opened somewhere around here. Do you happen to know where it is? My friend,’ he gestured towards Tamaki, who looked like he wanted to die ‘and I completely forgot it’s name and now we’re lost.’

‘We don’t know any restaurants. Go away,’ said Keiki.

‘But Keiki, isn’t it that one ramen shop we went to last week?’

Now it was Keiki’s turn to wish for death.

‘Were you planning to go to 'Silver Dragon'?’ she asked Mirio.

‘'Silver Dragon'... Yes! Thank you for reminding me.’

‘It’s just down the street to the right. It has a big silver dragon on its front. You can’t miss it.’

‘Again, thank you. Have a nice day!'

‘You too!’

They left. Mirio came back to Tamaki.

‘She was so cute!’ Mirio sighed. ‘I should’ve asked for her number.’

Tamaki only looked down and muttered something under his breath.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing. Let’s just go.’

* * *

The first semester passed by way too quickly for Mirio’s liking. Three months gone, just like that. A part of him knew he was falling behind his classmates. Everyone’s Quirks were great; he felt a bit out of place with how simple his own was. Not that Mirio didn’t know how to use it – he pretty much mastered all the basics and even some of the more advanced moves. The problem was that even after all this time, he couldn’t figure out how to phase through stuff only partially. He was quite sick of literally pummeling into the ground because he tried to make his arm phase through a wall. Mistakes like this had gotten pretty embarrassing during class; especially if he’d happened to be wearing sweats instead of his usual hero costume. He’d laugh and joke his way out of the majority of those situations, but he was slowly getting fed up with making the same dumb mistake over and over again.

For the first time in a while, Togata Mirio was frustrated.

He’d asked one of his friends from the support department for a simple tracksuit made from the same material as his hero costume. He’d been taking it to the nearest park ever since he got it. Mirio would go there every evening – no exceptions – and train well into the night. Most of that time was spent just phasing through everything he could find; from trees and benches to bigger rocks. He’d usually focus on a specific body part. Somedays he’d use just his hand or arm, or calfs. He’d worked himself into exhaustion more times than he could count.

Tonight wasn't any different. He started with just a few laps around the park. He made it a point of honor for himself to do all of them without stopping or slowing down. He ended up slightly out of breath, but proud. And so, after going through about one third of his water supply, he moved onto the real thing.

His regime was so repetitive it was almost boring. Tonight Mirio was supposed to focus on gaining better control of his quirk in his upper body – mostly shoulders up. He knew he looked silly with his head constantly popping out of random trees, but he kept going. He started to notice that with each rep his feet would stink less and less into the ground. He couldn't help but smile.

And then he nearly rammed his head into someone's shoulder after phasing through a particularly old tree.

It turned out that person was a girl. She shrieked to high heavens and jumped away. The big black dog she had on a leash started barking.

'Ah, sorry! I didn't mean to scare you,' said Mirio. He ignored the warmth in his cheeks. 'You see, I was just training my Quirk control.'

'It's fine don't worry,' she said after a minute or two.. She scratched behind her dog's ear to calm him down.

Mirio noticed a bright orange bracelet on her wrist. He’d definitely seen it somewhere before.

'You just surprised me, that’s all,’ she finished.

Then there was a long, painfully awkward silence. 

Mirio took the opportunity to discreetly get a better look at the girl. There was something familiar about her – something in her posture and the glint in her eye, but he couldn't exactly put a finger on what it was.

And then she smiled, and Mirio felt like something almost clicked into place in his brain.

'You seem familiar, you know? Like I've seen you somewhere before,' he said.

'Really?' she furrowed her brows.

'Really.' It was Mirio's turn to smile. 'Maybe we're going to the same school and just haven't talked before?'

'I don't think so… I would've remembered someone like you.' She flashed that smile again. 'Which school do you go to?'

'U.A.' Mirio pretended her remark didn't make him blush even more. He was probably overthinking it. Someone as loud as him wasn’t hard to miss. She definitely meant that, nothing more.

Her expression changed.

'My friend goes there too! I walk him home sometimes. You must have seen me then.'

Mirio hummed lightly. His brain was working overtime to remember where – or at least when – he'd seen her, but there was nothing. It felt like he was missing just one crucial detail that would complete the picture. Who was her friend again?

A small orange butterfly sat on her dog’s nose. He sneezed. The girl gently patted his head.

'You're probably right,' he finally said with a casual smile. 'Well, I won't take any more of your time. But remember, the next time you come to pick up your friend, I'll find you, and you'll have to talk to me again.'

She chuckled.

'Is that a threat or a promise?'

'Maybe a little bit of both.’ Mirio suddenly felt sheepish. This wasn’t like him. ‘But don't worry, I'm just kidding.'

There was a playful glint in her eyes.

'Well… If you're going to keep that threat-o'-promise, then look for a dark green uniform next time you're at school!'

'Dark green, huh?' Mirio cocked a brow. Not remembering where he’d seen her before was getting frustrating. Maybe it was a ramen shop? 'I surely will. Have a nice day!'

'You too.' 

And just like that, she was gone.

Mirio went back to his training, but he couldn't focus anymore. His feet kept sinking into the ground.

* * *

The hot summer sun knew no mercy, and Mirio was starting to regret choosing such a thick material for his costume. Sure, it was necessary for protection and the big not-fighting-naked thing but wearing it got nearly unbearable during the scorching hot summer time.

He’d been patrolling for the better part of two hours now and the heat was starting to really get to him. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his palms felt like the Niagara Falls. Mirio silently thanked Sir Nighteye for distracting him via checking up on him every half an hour. It made it all easier to ignore how gross he felt – at least a bit. Plus it made sense to be checking up on him so frequently; this was only his second patrol ever. And, just like on the first, everything was calm. Almost weirdly calm. Like Sir purposefully sent him to this part of town to make sure he’d come back without a scratch. He could’ve as well done that, given his foresight and all.

And then Mirio heard an explosion.

Spoke too soon.

'No!' someone screamed.

A huge, slimy villain emerged from the corner. He was holding a girl. Her bag slipped off her arm and landed by the villain’s feet with a thud. Her green uniform was covered with specs of blood.

'No!' he screamed with the girl’s voice. 'They always sound so funny when they’re afraid' he chuckled. His real voice was unpleasant to say the least. Deeper that anyone’s voice should be, gravely and throaty; like something from a horror movie.

'Oh, a hero? Are you gonna try and save her?' The villain shook the girl around, and a sickening crack was heard.

She opened her mouth and shrieked.

She sounded like an explosion, like an avalanche coming down. The villain covered his ears and let her go. She dropped right next to her bag; she didn’t stop screaming. A swarm of orange butterflies flew to the villain and sat all over him.

‘Get them off, get them off!’ he screamed. ‘I can’t see!’

Now Mirio had an opening.

He let himself sink into the ground. For a moment, there was only perfect silence. Then, he shot out of the pavement, right into the villain. Mirio felt his eardrums pop as his fist collided with the guy’s jaw. The girl’s voice was downright painful, and she only stopped once the villain dropped to the ground.

He didn’t get up.

'Are you okay?' Mirio asked, turning around to face the girl.

'I think' she nodded 'but my arms might be broken. They hurt like all hell.'

Mirio winced slightly.

'Yeah, I heard that crack. But don’t worry, I’ll get you somewhere safe.' He bent down to pick her up. 'Or, you know, at least to the closest police station.'

'Thanks.' She smiled slightly. 'By the way, who even was that guy? He seemed like a total nutjob.'

'No idea. We’ll probably learn that from tomorrow’s news…' Mirio paused when he got a good look at her face. She seemed familiar, really familiar. He remembered something about a dog and a ramen shop, but that was as good as his memory got. 'Do I know you?' he blurted out.

The girl gave him a long look.

‘I… I think?’ she said. ‘I think you might have jumped out of a tree when I was walking my dog.’

'Oh, did I?' His laugh was shaky. 'I’m really sorry about that. Didn’t mean to.'

‘I think you’re already apologised for that.’

‘Sorry. I mean…’ Mirio sighed. ‘I’m just gonna stop talking.’

‘No need. I like hearing you talk.’

‘Oh. Um, thank you.’

Mirio started walking. His face was burning and he could swear that he looked like a tomato. The girl’s eyes never left him. He was just hoping he didn’t smell like old sweat. Or something worse.

'What’s your name?' she said as they were nearing a police station.

'My name? I’m Lemi...'

Before Mirio could finish, a muffled voice came through his earpiece.

'Mirio, is everything okay?'

Mirio cleared his throat.

'Yes, Sir. Everything’s peachy. I have a casualty though, I’m taking her to the police station.'

'Good. I’ll contact you in the next thirty minutes.'

‘Sure, talk to you later.’

A strange silence stayed in the air after he finished talking to Sir. It made him uncomfortable. More than it should have.

'That was Sir Nighteye.’ Mirio cleared his throat. Again. More and more sweat was building up underneath his gloves. ‘I’m his inter, you know?'

'Really? I genuinely thought you were a full-fledged hero.' The surprise in her voice was sincere. 'You took that guy down in a moment!'

'Not without your help.' Mirio winked at her. He internally cringed immediately. 'But you know that using your Quirk on others without a license is illegal, right?'

She paled quickly.

'I-I didn’t mean to… He scared me and it just sort of… came out.'

He snickered.

'Calm down, I’m joking. As if I’d rat you out after you helped me.' His tone got more serious. 'Just make sure to be careful next time. Some people would turn you in in a heartbeat. Even heroes.'

'Sure, thanks for the advice.'

Before they knew it, they were standing right in front of the police station. Mirio put her down and gave her his signature smile.

'I hope I won’t have to save you again. Would be a shame if something happened.'

'Right.' She smirked. 'Oh, and you didn’t have to carry me all the way. My arms are hurt, not my legs' she said quickly. ‘If you wanted to ask me out, you could’ve just asked.’ she added as she walked into the building.

Mirio stood in front of the police station, speechless.

‘Well, I’ll have to get her number now. Who knows if I’ll see her again,’ he said to himself.

He walked right in after her.

[woozisnoots]

hey alex, i'm kind of in need of an emergency request :/ i've not been feeling well at all mentally for the past few weeks and its been eating me out from the inside. it may be symptoms of being burnt but yeah. i was wondering if could you write something with jihoon and him comforting you by taking your mind off the thoughts and distracting you with little things such as talking or showing you what he's working on? the little things can be completely up to you to choose c: - lissa

hi baby 🥺 i’m sorry i know this is late! >< exams has me 🦀 crabby this season but i know how stressed you’ve been lately and i wanted to make sure you got the jihoon you deserve !!! and ofc, i’m always here if you ever need to talk it out with anyone 💓

𝙤𝙣 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮

° pairing: jihoon x reader ° genre: fluff ° summary: you’re stressed, blessed and jihoon obsessed. ° word count: 1080 ° warning: none! ° a/n: [unedited]

masterlist!

a typical thursday night for you and your boyfriend is as follows: both of you having no where to go but jihoon’s study since it was the only place to provide quiet and facilitate creative freedom. on the far end, jihoon has his eyes glued to the computer screen as he has one hand hovering over the whites of his keyboards while the other grips the fret board of his guitar. while you on the other hand, tap your apple pen on your temple staring at a half blank canvas on your iPad. for legal reasons, sadly, this was all for school.

you swear the idea came to you in the morning but just as the day went on, the picture slowly started to drift away like your will to tolerate the amount of assignments your professors love to give. going into to art school, you would think the semester would fly by doing what you love.

but there’s a line between an occupation and a hobby; and lately, you’re too worn out to know the difference.

you abruptly turn off your iPad, almost slamming the deice hard on the couch. you were done for the day. this sucked. ask any artist, musician, or writer what it’s like to be stuck in a creative block or burned out, if you will. it is anything but a good time, and this was only just the rise. it’s late, you’re tired, and you desperately want to go home and sleep it off.

after relinquishing your anger, you cross your arms over your chest as you slump down onto the cushions, not noticing your boyfriend look over at you.

“everything good over there?” the concern in his voice makes you pout.

“no,” you replied honestly, not putting anything past him. “quite the opposite actually. i’m mentally exhausted. i have no idea what to draw, and even if i do draw literally anything, it’s probably gonna suck donkey ass.” the memory of

“so like, ass ass?” jihoon’s hysterical laugh now fills the room while you take a few seconds to register what he said. finally realizing the joke, you mutter a ‘oh my god’ under your breath before throwing the nearest plushie his direction.

“can you shut the f-” your words are still overpowered by jihoon’s laugh, not bothering to finish your sentence. besides, the sight of him catching the medium sized elephant plushie and hugging it so tight to try and suppress his giggles makes you forget what you were going to say anyways. “you’re real lucky that you’re cute as hell.”

“not as cute as you and your button nose.” you practically roll your eyes out of your sockets at jihoon’s remark, gagging at the sight of him being intentionally adorable. he only does this when he knows you’re upset. you let it pass though, like you always do since you’re one of the only ones he acts cute to.

“well, if you’re not particularly doing anything right at this moment, how about you come over here and help me with this melody?” jihoon rolls his chair out to create a space for you to come over.

“you know i know nothing about music right?” you say doubtfully.

“come on, all you gotta do is choose between these two samples. i have it all set up, you just gotta tell me which one sounds the best” he prompts to you.

eyeing your iPad at your feet, you stick out your tongue in annoyance. well, it’s not like he was wrong. you definitely weren’t revisiting your assignment for awhile. but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t add a little bit of fun in the mix.

“and what’s in it for me?” the palm of your hands find the edge of your jawline, patiently waiting for your boyfriend’s answer. he’s always quick to find the catch to your antics, it’s just a matter of what he’s willing to offer.

“let’s see,” he says as he mimics your position with his elbow resting on his desk and his hand meeting his cheek. “a free ride back at our place, food on the way there, and…”

he rolls his eyes to the ceiling, displaying a full face of concentration. all his options sound deliciously appealing, but you need something more to cure the never ending trauma that dawns over you so the obvious solution is purposely wait a little longer to see how far he’ll go for you.  

“a back massage? and extra kisses?” jihoon finally concludes.

“in addition to you cleaning up the laundry on your side of the bedroom,” you add, proudly smiling.

“deal.” with that confirmation, you gladly prance over to stand beside jihoon, letting your hands press against the desk to support your stance.

jihoon, however, stares at you with a look of immense confusion. “what are you doing? i have a spot reserved just for you.”

now, there are technically only two available places to seat at his studio. granted, it is a snug studio to begin with but you can make room if you’re creative; unfortunately, yours was running out at the moment. there’s a single sofa, essentially for you to fully stretch out your limbs as you worked, and a single wheely chair for himself.  

but this time, your boyfriend apparently wasn’t about to let you uncomfortably lounge around on your feet even for a second. no, he thinks his lap is a much more comfortable place.

“i lied, i’m almost done with the song. i just wanted you near me,” he whispers near your ear as he securely wraps his hands around your waist.

your usual self would have made a snarky comment at his sneakiness, but his attempts to make you feel better prevail and you lean your head to the side to meet jihoon’s.

“well now you get kisses to go with it,” you turn your head slightly to face him, cuffing both his cheeks so you can clearly see the array of brown shades in his eyes. ones that could take you away for hours on end and make you feel like you never left reality.

your face relaxes as you feel the warmth of jihoon’s hand gently placed on top of yours. what started off as a bad night, the thought slowly dissolves from your mind the longer this moment lasts. and with a delicate kiss to seal your boyfriend’s lips, you move on. thankfully, with life in your favor and jihoon by your side.

[hillariat]

Bubbline fic finished!

Posted the final chapter of my Bubbline fic, check it out!

Also huge thanks to @hehe-food​ for beta-ing both the 3 and the final chapter

Unexpected

Setting: Highschool AU

Status | Wordcount: Complete |  5,770

Tags: Fluff, emotionally confused PB.

Summary: Marceline confesses to her long time friend Bonnie. It takes an unexpected turn and, just as things were back to normal, takes another one.

AKA It's Bonnie's gay awakening.

Read it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/30298620/chapters/74678148 OR down below

The hurried pat-pat of Bonnie’s footsteps echoed through the hallways. Her legs, exhausted from a student council meeting that dragged on for far too long, begged her to slow down by at least 30%. She ignored them. She really didn’t want to keep Marceline waiting any longer than she had to after all.

When Bonnie reached the music room, she heard a familiar tune being played. Smiling to herself, she pushed the door open and saw Marceline perched upon a table and chair in a seat-footstool combo, strumming on her bass guitar. The raven-haired girl turned to Bonnie and smirked.

"’Sup Brainlord, how’s the prep meet?"

“Terrible, Becky wouldn’t shut up about adding more “tasteful” food to the school breakfast program even though that’s clearly out of our budget. It literally took us over half an hour just to move on to another topic.” Bonnie sighed and continued. “If she wasn’t so high up the pecking order, I’d have kicked her out. Personally.”

Marceline nudged her shoulder.

“I could do it for you”

“And be expelled? No thanks. As much as I hate Becky, I don’t think you leaving is worth it.”

Her heart lurched, practically begging to be freed from her chest. She opted to shrug it off, instead turning away from Bonnie to start packing her bass.

“Maybe I could do a prank instead. Y’know something that says, ‘fuck off from student council or else.’”

Bonnie raised her brows.

“Oh, and what would this prank be?”

By the time the girls left the school building, several rotten sandwiches and a passive aggressively typed note were left in Becky’s locker.

__________________________________________________________

"Thanks again for waiting up for me."

Bonnie entered the front passenger seat of Marceline’s car, inhaling the familiar scent of leather, strawberry and wood that probably came from an acoustic instrument lying around somewhere.

“Dude not this again. I told you, you don’t have to thank me every time I wait up for you. It’s like, our thing to hang out on Tuesdays anyways.”

Bonnie buckled in her own seatbelt whilst Marceline started the engine.

“Still, I appreciate the gesture. Not everyone would wait 2 hours just to have afternoon tea with their friend.”

Marceline felt a blush threaten to reveal itself on her cheeks. She really needed to get those butterflies in her ribs under control. She raised her hand, the other hand focused on driving out of the parking lot. “No. Stop with the sap. You’re turning me into a marshmallow.”

“You’re already a marshmallow, Marshmaline”

She gave a playful whack, accompanied by a glare. “Shut up! I am not a marshmallow, I’m too punk rock!”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, unfazed by the other’s glare. They had long lost their terrorizing effect on her. “Sure you are. Oh! That reminds me”

She dug through her bag, fishing out a pack of guitar strings and handing it to Marceline. “Gauge 9 right?”

“Wha- Bon. You didn’t have to.”

Bonnie waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I distinctly remember a certain someone complaining about forgetting to buy them for 4th week in a row yesterday.” She turned away from Marceline, opting to look at the passing traffic. “and… well, I just happen to pass by the music store when I was at the mall with Lady yesterday.”

Marceline gave her a heartwarming smile.

“Aww, thanks mom”

Bonnie huffed.

“What would you do without me?”

Marceline snorted, smile still evident on her face.

“Forgetting them for another week probably.”

Bonnie chuckled.

“Damn right”

__________________________________________________________

The girls reached their destination, a quaint little café tucked in a quiet neighborhood near their school. Marceline introduced it to Bonnie a while ago, insisting that the red velvet cakes were “to die for”. Bonnie wouldn’t put it the same way, but she did admit that the food was “more than acceptable”. The place quickly became their favorite hangout spot, next to the diner ran by their friend’s ( Finn’s) parents. Though that diner was more of a clique hangout spot. This was more of a 'just them' spot.

They ordered their drinks, an apple pie to share and of course, a slice of red velvet cake for Marceline. They sat at their table, indulging in said items whilst making idle conversation, ranging from the food to Marceline’s music to school gossip.

Bonnie noticed how her shoulders were a little tense, how she would pick and flick her own fingers and how her eyes wandered in a way that said her thoughts weren’t entirely focused on the present. Marceline was clearly bothered by something.

The Bonnie of 5 years ago would’ve pried her incessantly, but now she knew better. Marceline was the kind of person that needed space to figure things out. She would tell Bonnie what was eating at her when she was good and ready. Any prying on Bonnie’s end would lead to scathing remarks and, if allowed to escalate, a fight. Hence, despite the well-meaning itch that urged her to figure out what was bothering her best friend, Bonnie didn’t ask. Respecting Marceline’s boundaries was more important.

When Marceline’s giggling fit died down after a joke about a certain lemon-faced principal , she took a deep breath. She warily made eye contact with Bonnie.

“I need to tell you something. Its -It’s important”

“Okay”. Bonnie nodded and kept her eyes at Marceline expectantly, conveying that Marceline had her full undivided attention. A long, pregnant pause ensued. Bonnie was tempted to break the silence, but Marceline got there first.

“I’m gay.”

Okay. That wasn’t what Bonnie expected. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay, no not at all. Bonnie was just very unfamiliar with coming-out-of-the-closet etiquette. After all, most of her friends were straight.

She was clearly out of her element here. How should she respond to this? Did Marceline want a boisterous congratulation? Or a simple acceptance? In the end, Bonnie did what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with that information?”

Marceline raised her brows in surprise. She was expecting more of a reaction to that. Bonnie had just…. rolled with it. Maybe her fears were indeed unfounded. Maybe. It was still too early to tell.

Marceline took a deep breath, gathering what little courage it could provide and continued.

“I’m gay for you. As in, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

For a moment, Bonnie was tempted to make fun of Marceline’s unironic use of “like-like” but knew better than to do that. Instead, she was contemplating her response to it. She knew exactly what she should say, she knew her answer to that obvious unsaid question, but the vulnerable expression on Marceline’s face made her hesitate. Marceline looked so fragile, as if a gentle breeze could shatter her. The only other time Bonnie saw the other like this was when Marceline’s mother had passed.

Bonnie furrowed her brows, bit her bottom lip, and took a deep breath. It was definitely going to hurt, but she was good at making tough decisions for the people she cared about.

“I … don’t feel the same way. I’ve only ever seen you as a friend. I’m sorry Marceline.”

She could see Marceline shattering right in front of her. The girl’s shoulders slumped, a frown formed on her face and, most troubling of all; the light in the girl’s eyes dimmed. For a moment Bonnie wanted to take her words back, to make Marceline beam instead with an acceptance. But she knew from experience that giving false hope was worse than a flat-out rejection, so she kept her mouth shut.

In a flash, Marceline’s demeanor switched. She had a smile plastered on her face and her posture likewise improved. Perhaps it was a prepared response, as if she already knew this was the probable outcome. Though her newfound demeanor couldn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s cool. It’s cool.”

She paused as if unsure as to whether she should utter the next line. She opened her mouth, her voice wavered before she could even muster the first word.

“We can still be friends, right?” Accompanied with, again, a vulnerable expression. But this time it came from a girl who was already kicked down.

“Of course.” and Marceline wasn’t the only one who wanted to believe that.

They fell into silence, neither girl looking at each other anymore. There were no more words to be said on the matter. Bonnie glanced at the clock in the café. Time ticked by slowly, as if a second was enough time to write an entire thesis.

She searched for a change of topic, not wanting the silence to stretch into awkward territory. Her eyes wandered the surroundings and found it on their table. She gestured to the item.

“Are you going to finish that cake?” Bonnie’s fork was already threateningly hovering above the slice of cake.

Marceline smirked and hoped she didn’t misread Bonnie’s seemingly playful tone.

“I swear, one day you’re gonna get diabetes Bon. You’re such a sugar slut.”

Bonnie completely ignored her friend’s warning and grabbed the last bit of cake, eating it with a slight smile on her face.

“And you – She pointed to Marceline with her empty fork- are distasteful.”

Marceline laughed at that, the tension now fully leaving her. Bonnie could say the same, though she was just smiling at her friend.

Things were going to be okay.

Chapter 2: Confusion

The coffee cup made a clack as it landed on the table.

“Figured you’d want this.” Marceline flashed a toothy grin, though this one was softer than the usual mischievous one. Still, it was one Bonnie was well acquainted with.

Her stomach squirmed. She blinked. Odd. She didn’t remember having shellfish the night before.

“Uhhm, thanks.” She didn’t know why she fumbled. Marceline always got her coffee for their afternoon study sessions. She took a sip. Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot and drizzle, just the way she liked it, though for some reason, today it tasted a little sweeter.

Marceline plotted herself next to Bonnie and started rummaging through her bag. “So, what’s on the agenda today Bonbon?”

Bonnie scribbled in her notebook, having already started on her work. “Maths. We have 2 assignments due soon so I figured we should start.”

Marceline nodded and got her stuff out. For a good half hour, the only sounds that came from their table were the scrawls of pens, the clicking of calculators, turning of pages and occasionally, some curse words muttered under Marceline’s breath. Eventually though, the relative silence was broken.

“Hey, what’d you get for 3c?”

“69.3”

Bonnie saw a toothy grin appear on Marceline’s face. She frowned and shot a glare in return. That girl better not do wh –

“Thirst much, Bonnibel?”

She groaned. “Really Marceline? Get your head out of the gutter.”

Marceline shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one writing innuendos as answers.”

“Not my fault the teacher likes putting innuendos as answers”.

Marceline chuckled, then she glanced over to Bonnie’s notebook. “Anyways, how’d you get that number?” She leaned over to get a closer look at Bonnie’s homework, now just close enough for Bonnie to smell what shampoo the other used. It was strawberry. Bonnie took note of Marceline’s face, how her brows scrunched in concentration, how her green eyes always held a beautiful shade of green, how her raven hair cascaded down her face, framing her sharp jawline and how her lips pouted at a formula she obviously didn’t understand. Bonnie wondered if those lips felt soft. Wait, what?

“Earth to Bonnie? You there? Hello?” Marceline waved her hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said what’s the deal with this guy? -She gestured to some convoluted looking math term- How did it get to this?”

“Oh, well..” Bonnie went on to explain how she derived the expression, going through it step by step as she usually did, pushing away any strange thoughts of the girl next to her. They were just a fluke after all. Nothing more than spontaneous curiosity.

__________________________________________________________

It happened again a couple of days later. Marceline was casually humming along to a punk rock song in her car with Bonnie seated next to her, quietly scrolling through her phone. The song was crass, mocking, harsh even, filled with edginess that stereotyped the genre. But somehow when the same song came from Marceline’s vocal cords, hummed in a low tone, it sounded so much more…beautiful. Smooth. Gentle. It felt like a cloud was encompassing her, warm and welcoming.

Bonnie felt her insides turn to jello. Strange how she never noticed Marceline's voice having this effect.

She frowned. Something was up. Lightning never struck twice in the same place after all.

“You got your thinking face on Bonnie. What’s up?”

“Oh. Nothing, I was just zoning out”

Marceline smirked, “Lemme guess, thinking of another experiment? Or wait, OH. Trying to answer one of the greatest mysteries of life.”

Bonnie glanced at her lap. Her hands were fiddling with loose jean threads. “You could say that.”

__________________________________________________________

The rest of the week, and the next, followed the same pattern. Bonnie and Marceline would hang out and Marceline would do something utterly mundane and Bonnie would find herself getting the squirmies. Her insides would twist and turn in all sorts of funny ways and she would find her cheeks embarrassingly warm.

She found herself lying down on her own bed, gazing at the ceiling with a half bolster clutched in her arms and contemplating the confusing experiences of the previous weeks. This was the 5th night in a row she had done this.

She has had both male and female suitors confessing to her before, though none of them were as close to her as Marceline was. However, she never gave them more than a second’s worth of thought as she preferred to utilize her brain’s resources on more important things. Chiefly; her schoolwork, independent science projects and her student council duties.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Could she…like Marceline?

She frowned; brows scrunched and lips upturned in confusion.

She had never experienced a crush on a girl before. What she had told Marceline was nothing but honest, she genuinely had never seen the other girl in a light that wasn’t platonic. Marceline was indeed only a dear friend to her. Nothing had changed between them, so why did her insides turn to mush when Marceline did something as mundane as laugh at her own joke or open a door for her. It didn’t make any sense.

Bonnie’s clock read 02:14am and she figured she should get some sleep before school. With heavy lidded eyes, Bonnie concluded that she should do what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

__________________________________________________________

Bonnie found her in the music room, as usual. She was alone. Good. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and gripped her bag strap tightly. She didn’t know why she was the one who felt terrified, after all she was the one planning on basically cornering Marceline with a potentially awkward situation. She took a deep breath and entered the room.

Marceline turned to her, ceasing the strum of her bass. She flashed a warm smile. “Hey Bon, what’s up?”

“Marceline, do you want to go on a date?” At the sight of Marceline’s confused face, she added “With me. Romantically.”

Marceline raised her brows, even more confused than before. “Dude, I thought you weren’t into me that way? You said so like 2 weeks ago.”

She was right. Bonnie only hoped that her persuasion skills were good enough. “While it is true that I've never seen you in that way before, I don’t think it’d be a bad idea to try?” She paused, not really sure how to phrase it less awkwardly. “So, let’s go on a romantic date and see how that goes.”

Marceline looked downright offended by that offer. Was there some homosexual etiquette Bonnie was missing out on?

“I don’t need a pity date.”

Oh. OH. Oh god was that it how it sounded like? Bonnie knew she had to rectify the situation and soon.

“No no. It’s not that. It’s…“ Bonnie broke eye contact with Marceline, instead favoring the ground. She wasn’t sure why she felt so flustered, maybe it was because admitting the truth was embarrassing. “I’ve been thinking about us. How I feel about you, ever since that day you confessed.” Bonnie started fiddling with her hands.

Marceline tensed. She didn’t know where this was going, but she was paranoid and listened to every echoing thought in her head that said this was going to end up bad. Crap. She thought she was out of the woods after that day in the café.

”and I know I said that I hadn’t felt anything but platonic towards you before, and that’s true. But now I’m not so sure.”

Marceline furrowed her brows. What did she just say, was she implying that – “I…I might like you romantically. Or not. I don’t know. I was hoping that going on a date would help me figure things out. Its more for me really.”

Marceline blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Bonnie had…mixed feelings for her? No, rather Bonnie wasn’t sure how she felt. Marceline released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding until now. It wasn’t an ideal outcome, but it was certainly not the worst that could have come from her confession to the redhead.

Taking Marceline’s prolonged silence as a no, Bonnie continued. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to even suggest that considering everything you’ve been through. Just forge-“

Marceline raised her hand to stop her babbling. “I get it. Figuring out your sexuality is hard and you’re not exactly swimming in gay friends. I'm down for it. But you have to promise me this.” She looked straight into Bonnie’s eyes, holding down probably the most serious stare she could muster. “The moment you figure out your feelings for me, you have to tell me. Even if it hurts me. Its just-I just need to know as soon as possible.” Her voice wavered. “Please.”

Bonnie nodded, understanding the gravity of this.

Marceline let out a huge breath, visibly relaxing. She smiled.

“Alright. You free Friday night?”

Bonnie smiled back at her. “Yeah, pick me up at 7?”

Chapter 3: Consolidation

Bonnie didn’t think she would be one of those girls. The ones that would empty their entire closet and prance around their clothing littered room wondering why nothing there was good enough for their date. But here she was doing exactly just that.

It was just Marceline after all. They’ve hung out a billion times before.

Except it wasn’t just Marceline was it?

Bonnie groaned; this was infuriating. She dug through another pile of clothes on her bed, burying herself in thoughts of what to wear instead of trying to unpack the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

In the end, she settled for a white sundress. Well, “settle” was a stretch considering she was going to change again if she hadn’t been interrupted by a ring from the front door. She rushed out of her bedroom, hurriedly making her way down wooden stairs with a tap-tap from her feet.

“Is that Marceline?” Her mother called out from a distant room. Knowing her it was probably the living room. Bonnie did get her love of sappy cable TV rom-coms from her after all.

“Yeah, I got it! I’ll be back by midnight.” Bonnie replied. “Alright, text me if your plans change.” After a brief moment of silence, she added, “Oh, and keep yourselves out of trouble okay! I do not want to hear a peep about either of you from the cops again!”

Bonnie giggled, reminiscing that exact event from 6 months ago.

“Oh. Wow.” Bonnie’s gaze was fixated on the sunset, a bleary mix of reds, oranges and yellows fading into dark blues that casted a looming shadow, outlining the town center. Bonnie and Marceline were on top of a ruined four story building without a roof which was nestled on top of a steep hill, giving them a brilliant vantage point that overlooked the entire t-

“Right.” Marceline flashed a cocky smirk. “Told you this place had the best view.” And she wasn’t wrong.

Bonnie scoffed. “Well sorry I thought otherwise when you dragged me through a forest, a chain link fence and an abandoned construction site.”

Marceline snorted. “What did you think I was gonna do?”

“Kill me and the hide the body?”

“Pfft, if I did that, whose homework would I copy of off?”

“Uh,” She tapped her chin, actually giving the question some thought. “Finn’s?”

Marceline looked at her with bewilderment, one eyebrow quirked above the other. “Dude, you know the whole point of copying off someone else is to pass, not fail.” Bonnie huffed, “Okay, fair point. But – "

“Hey, what are you two doing here?! Get down now!”

They snapped their heads to the source of the yelling. Down on the ground floor stood a middle-aged security guard, practically steaming with red-hot fury. Both girls looked at each other, conveying some unsaid message to each other, seemingly in agreement.

Then they ran.

After hopping through several cinder blocks and steel beams sprinkled with a few swears and complaints about thinking the place was abandoned, they got to a chain-linked fence. Knowing that they were pressed for time with the security guard hot on their tail, they opted to try to squeeze through a tiny gap on the bottom of the fence instead of climbing over it as they did before.

Bonnie crawled through just fine, merely getting some scuffs and dirt marks on her pullover. Marceline on the other hand got stuck, her “fashionable” ripped tank top getting caught on stray fence wiring. Both girls rushed to untangle Marceline, but with the stomp-stomp of booted footsteps coming ever closer to them, Marceline pulled Bonnie’s hands away from herself.

“Bon. I’m fine, just.. go ahead without me”

“But- “ Marceline pushed her away, stopping any argument Bonnie would give out.

“Go! I’ll text you when I’m home.” Bonnie stared at her for a moment in concern. Her eyes darted back and forth between her friend and the direction of the encroaching footsteps. Then she blurted,

“Shut the fuck up” and scrambled to get her friend out.

They both got caught.

After a phone call, a drive and long drawn-out conversation between Bonnie's mom and the police, both girls found themselves on the receiving end of a stern mother's gaze whilst seated on Bonnie's couch.

"Explain."

Before Bonnie could get a word out, Marceline started. "It was my idea Mrs. Butler, I dragged Bonnie to the construction site up at the hill near the end of town. I wanted to show her the sunset from up there.”

"The abandoned one?"

Marceline gave a sheepish smile "Well it turns out it wasn’t so abandoned after all".

Mrs. Butler wasn’t so amused. “Uh-huh.” She glanced at Bonnie, who was squirming in her seat from nervousness. "Bonnie, I know it wasn’t your plan but you still tagged along. You’re grounded for a week. That also means no access to the garage lab."

Bonnie groaned but didn’t feel the need to protest that decision. It was fairly light considering they did get the police involved.

Her mom turned to Marceline. "And Marceline. It’s late so you can stay over, but in the morning, I am going to have a talk with your father, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

“Good, now I’m going to head to bed, it's late. Bonnie, be a dear and help set up the couch for Marceline” With that, Mrs. Butler went to her bedroom. Bonnie and Marceline started setting up the couch in silence, bringing out blankets and extra pillows from a nearby closet. Marceline wondered if this would be a good time to say what was on her mind, but was interrupted by Bonnie asking her to grab the duvet. When she dragged the duvet to the couch, Bonnie noticed her stumble a little. And then again. She was limping.

“Marceline, your leg!”

“Huh?” Marceline glanced down, seeing a small trail of blood running from her knees. Her very battered and cut knees. “Oh shit”

Bonnie immediately pushed Marceline to sit down on the couch, then ran off into the kitchen muttering something about alcohol. She then came back with a small first aid kit and began treating Marceline’s wounds. Marceline figured this was as good of a time as any.

“Sorry I got you in trouble. I didn’t know there was security there, I checked out the whole place and didn’t even see any keep out signs.” She fiddled nervously with the duvet below her.

Bonnie flashed a warm smile. “It’s fine, just…” She glanced down at Marceline’s knee and frowned, then looked up and made eye contact with her. “Be more careful next time?”

Marceline gave a reassuring smile.

“I will.”

Ding-ding-ding-ding! God, Marceline was one hell of an impatient girl. Bonnie rushed to open the door, silently cursing herself for zoning out for so long.

Marceline was clad in a red-black plaid flannel paired with a dark grey top and ripped black jeans. 'Classic Marceline,' thought Bonnie. Though in the raven-haired girl’s words it would’ve been classic gay, whatever that meant.

Marceline started, “Hey.” She flashed a gentle, earnest smile. She can do this. She’s good at playing cool. She’s the coolest person in school. Totally cool. Absolutely not having a heart attack right now.

“Hey.”

“You look great tonight.”

Bonnie smiled, soft and sweet. “Thanks, you look nice too.” She gestured to the other.

Marceline snorted. “Pfft, this is my normal outfit, what are you talking about?”

She smirked. Oh, it was all too easy to tease Marceline. “Maybe I think you look nice normally.”

Marceline spluttered into some incoherent murmurs. Her cheeks flushed crimson red and she scrambled to look at anywhere except Bonnie. Bonnie found it amusing.

She noticed that the raven-haired girl had her hands tucked behind her back, as if hiding an object from her view. Before she could ask though, Marceline beat her to it, having recovered from her gay panic.

“I, uhh, got you flowers.” She presented a bouquet of soft pink and white roses.

"Flowers?"

Marceline averted her gaze, instead staring at the small scuff marks on her shoes."Yeah. Figured I'd, uhmm....give you the full date experience." But the flustered cheeks and wavering voice said there was more to it than that.

Bonnie felt a heavy pang strike through her chest. She didn’t say anything about it though, figuring that it was a little too late to back out now. "Thanks."

She took the flowers into the kitchen and quickly deposited them into an empty vase. Then she rushed back out and hopped into Marceline’s car and they drove off. She turned to Marceline. “So, where are we going?”

Marceline smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“At least tell me if it's legal. I promised my mom I wouldn’t get in trouble with the cops tonight.” She crossed her arms and pouted. Marceline thought it was adorable and wondered if she should comment. She didn’t.

Instead, she let out a cackle. “Nah it's totally legal. Don’t worry about it.”

They continued the drive in relatively peaceful silence, with only the radio to fill in the space. Bonnie’s gaze fell to her lap, where she fiddled with the hem of her dress. This was it. She was going on a date. With her best friend. Marceline was her date. Huh. Sounds weird.

Chapter 4: Conclusion

Bonnie glanced at the building, eyes widening at the familiar sight of the local science museum. "I thought you didn’t like science?"

Marceline shrugged, "I don’t. But I'm down for learning about the things you like.” She flashed a gentle smile and Bonnie's insides went into a tumbling frenzy of butterflies and thrumming heartbeats. “Now c’mon, this place closes at 9!"

Before her insides could murder her further, she found herself being dragged to the building, hands intertwined and all. Bonnie couldn’t bring herself to complain.

They grabbed their tickets from the ticketing booth and then trailed through the museum, weaving through various exhibits from electrochemistry to evolution to tectonic plates. They stopped by an anatomy exhibit; Bonnie having decided that the musculoskeletal system was an absolute must-see.

“Oooooh, the knee joint!”

Marceline quirked her brows, “What makes this one so special?”

"Well, it is the largest joint in our body, and y’know, THE joint that enables us to walk.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it like, weak? I always hear about people having busted knees or something.”

“That is true. That’s mostly because it does endure a lot of force when we’re using it, about one and a half times our body weight when walking and eight times when squatting.” Bonnie paused for a moment. ”Oh! And it’s also susceptible to numerous pathological conditions like arthritis”

Marceline hummed absentmindedly, then said, “Heh, y’know, you’re just like osteoarthritis” -she turned to her and flashed a toothy grin-” ’Cause you make my knees weak.”

Bonnie stared at her as if she grew another head. A pause ensued, just as awkward and confused as Bonnie’s expression. It went on for a bit, what with Marceline having no clue how to handle it and Bonnie trying to piece together what in the world just happened. She eventually broke the silence with a snort and a smile.

"Well," She moved closer to the other, interlinking their arms together. "You’re like a cation because you’re positively attractive.”

Marceline doubled down, practically filling the museum with cackles. Her cheeks were tinted red, though whether that was from being flustered or from the strain of laughter Bonnie couldn’t tell.

“Omg Bonnie that’s…” She took a breath in an attempt to get her chuckles to die down. ”That’s so you.” Another fit of laughter hit her.

Bonnie floundered, muttering a brief string of indecipherable words and turning away from Marceline in a vain attempt to hide her beet-red face.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. I didn’t say it was bad. It's….” Marceline rubbed her neck, eyes purposely averting Bonnie’s gaze. “It’s actually really cute.” She flashed a tentative smile. Her cheeks mirrored Bonnie’s.

Bonnie pouted, “Geez, you really can’t take a compliment, can you?”

“Welp, sorry, my parents are as emotionally constipated as I am.”

Bonnie chuckled, then tugged the other along to another exhibit.

They wandered through the exhibits one by one, with Bonnie rambling on about the four ventricles of the heart and some Newtonian mechanics and Marceline occasionally quipping in with a flirt or a joke (usually a pun).

“You wanna go watch a movie? I heard they’re premiering the remake of the Thing at the old theatre downtown” Marceline asked. They had finished a full round at the Museum, just in the nick of time as an announcement declared that the museum was closing. Now they were making their way to the carpark.

Bonnie was a little surprised that Marceline would have heard of the Thing. She didn’t seem like someone who would keep up with Sci-fi remakes, then again, the Thing was also a horror, that could explain it.

Bonnie shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” She glanced down at their still intertwined hands. It was all still surreal to her. She really was on a date. With Marceline.

“Bon? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just…uhh, zoning out. Yep. Heh.” She really, really wished she was better at lying. Marceline raised her brows but didn’t comment any further, to Bonnie’s relief.

__________________________________________________________

They wound up seated in a small theatre, with Marceline sipping on her soda and Bonnie occasionally munching on popcorn. Bonnie glanced at Marceline, wondering if she should be doing something at this moment. Their arms were still interlinked, still a fairly platonic gesture. She wondered if she should push it, cross the platonic boundary a little bit more. After all Marceline clearly had with her incessant flirting. She supposed she should reciprocate by initiating something too.

And so, cautiously, Bonnie leaned in, slowly placing her head on the crook of Marceline's shoulder. Marceline tensed for a moment, and for that moment Bonnie wondered if she should retreat. But then Marceline relaxed and leaned in.

Cuddling wasn't something the girls ever did together in their friendship. Physical affection, whilst there with casual hand-holding, a hug here and there and such, was always kept at a respectable distance. This was new and if the butterflies in Bonnie’s stomach were anything to go by, it was a good kind of new.

Maybe dating wasn’t so weird after all.

__________________________________________________________

Marceline brought Bonnie to her doorstep in silence. Not the comfortable kind that they often shared. No, this was tense, heavy, as though there was a huge anvil weighing them down. Both of them clearly knew why, it was the end of their date after all. Neither of them really wanted to start, but, feeling obligated because this was her idea, Bonnie did.

"As cliche as it sounds, I really had a good time tonight." After a short pause, she added, "I'd like to do it again sometime."

Marceline’s brows shot up into her hairline. "Wait does this mean -"

“Ehp!” She croaked. Despite knowing what Marceline's reaction would be, Bonnie still found a lump rising in her throat. She took a breath and tried again.

“Yeah.” Bonnie smiled tentatively.

Marceline’s face went through various stages of metamorphosis, from confusion to disbelief to being completely flustered red. It finally settled on a dumbfounded smile with rose-tinted cheeks.

“That’s, wow.”

Bonnie giggled and crossed her arms. She just couldn’t resist the opportunity presented. “Really? You got your crush to like you back and all you can say is ‘wow’. Real smooth Marceline.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Bonnie could practically hear the pout from her. She snickered and Marceline desperately scrambled for a change in topic. She found one and smirked.

"Does this mean I can kiss you? Coz you were so obvious with the staring just now"

Bonnie scoffed. “We both know I wasn’t staring, nice try though. As for the other thing,” She averted her gaze and gave a non-committal shrug. “Maybe on the second date, or the third”

Marceline grinned. “Ooooh, there’s gonna be a third date now?”

“Only if you behave.” She deadpanned.

Marceline cackled, her voice echoing throughout the silent neighborhood. Soon enough, Bonnie couldn’t help but join and now in between the quiet of suburbia were the giggles of two girls.

They kissed on the second date.

[malewifegradyruewen]

Ceux Qui Ne Meurent Jamais, Chapter Three

three chapters in three days i'm insane-

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trigger warnings: overall creepy vibe, i was almost too scared to finish, that's why it stops so abruptly, i don't recommend reading late at night or in the dark, ask to tag

word count: 1715

tagging: @fire-sapphics @zoyyanazyalensky @dirty-racoon @della-vacker-supremacy @raiinyrxse @lucat13 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @genyyasafin @cadence-talle @thewhiteblades @gay-otlc @brilliantblindinglights @enbies-and-felonies @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @littlemisscupcake lmk if you want to be added/removed!!

SLAM!

Nathalie awoke to the sound of what she assumed was a door slamming shut. The wind howled outside her window, making the panes rattle. She looked at the clock, but the room was too dark for her to see. She lit the candle that had been sitting on her bedside table and padded across the floor to look. Two-fifty-four.

Given the strong winds outside, a draft blowing a door shut was nothing too out of the ordinary, so Nathalie decided to return to bed. She started crossing back to her four-poster when she heard another SLAM! It sounded closer, as though the first one had been one of the vacant bedrooms at the far end of the hallway, and this one was only a few doors down. While it did seem odd, she didn’t think much of it. An old, empty manor could only withstand so much on a night as windy as this one.

SLAM! A third door slamming shut, this one stopping Nathalie in her tracks. It sounded as though this door was across the hall, the door to the only accessible room that was currently vacant. She turned around slowly and crept towards her door, so she could check the hallway and put her mind at ease before returning to bed. She reached out to grab the doorknob before she realised she was shaking. Maybe checking the hall wasn’t the best idea. But her curiosity got the best of her, and she kneeled down on the floor and laid down on her stomach, peering under the door. She couldn’t see anything, and after a few minutes she was ready to go back to bed, until she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

She could just make out a heavy pair of boots, walking swiftly yet somehow silently across the floor. She held her breath as the boots stopped right in front of her door. Her heart was pounding, louder than it ever had before. The boots moved closer to her door, taking one step, then another, before stopping once more. They turned and ran down the hallway, towards the vacant bedrooms.

Nathalie wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, on the floor next to her door, the only light the candle on her nightstand slowly dimming as the wax melted. Not another door slammed, though the wind blew ever stronger. Who was that, with the black boots, and why were they here? How had they gotten here? Her brain rattled with questions, like the panes clattering in the window frames. But there was nothing she could do about it tonight. She’d ask Lady Lucie in the morning.

Slowly, she got up off the floor and climbed back into bed, snuffing out the candle as she did so. Her heart was still racing and her head was still pounding, but as darkness enveloped the room once more, she couldn’t fight the exhaustion, and she slipped into an uneasy slumber.

-:-

Nathalie was awoken by the sun streaming through her windows, so bright it felt blinding. The house was quiet, the ticking of the clock the only sound. Nine-twenty-seven. Lady Lucie had said breakfast was typically at nine, but she’d make it fresh for Nathalie. She could afford a few more moments in bed before getting ready for the day.

Thoughts of breakfast and sunlight and the other ladies in the house distracted her for a moment, but it wasn’t long before her questions about last night’s events took front and center in her brain. Even now, she shuddered at the memory of the boots standing outside her door, silent on such a creaky floor.

She couldn’t bear to sit and wallow in memory any longer, so she instead climbed out of bed and changed out of her nightdress to an outfit nearly identical to that of last night, only the skirt was green and the blouse was white. She quickly untied the ribbon wrapped around the end of her braid and tied her hair into a bun, the same way she had everyday since she was a child. Slipping her grey shoes back on, she headed downstairs to the dining room they’d eaten in the night before.

There was no evidence anyone had used the dining room thus far that morning, but the door to the kitchen was propped open. Nathalie cautiously walked towards the kitchen, spotting Lady Lucie elbows deep in the sink. The clatter of dishes being plunged into the soapy water was loud, but it still seemed strange to Nathalie that her footsteps hadn’t been loud enough to alert Lady Lucie to her presence.

“Good morning,” she said, raising her voice so she could be heard above the dishes.

Lady Lucie whipped around, as though she hadn’t been expecting Nathalie. “Lady Nathalie!” she cried. “Good morning! Don’t mind me, just tidying up after breakfast! I left a bowl next to the stove for you, and there’s a plate of fruit and a bowl of sugar on the counter.”

She pointed as she spoke, guiding Nathalie to a pot of porridge on the stove. She groaned. After eating it nearly every day of her childhood, she despised porridge. The bland, tasteless mush was one of the worst things about Hazelford Children’s Manor. However, she couldn’t deny that her stomach was rumbling, so she took a small scoop and added several heaping spoonfuls of sugar before taking her bowl and the whole plate of fruit to the dining room. There wasn’t much on the plate, as the native berries were mostly out of season, but there were apple slices, which in Nathalie’s opinion, were the best of all the fruits. She reluctantly put a bit of porridge on the apple slice and ate it, delightfully surprised at her creation. No longer despising the food in front of her, she ate it as quickly as she could.

Partway through her bowl of porridge, Lady Lucie emerged from the kitchen and joined Nathalie. “I trust you sleep well?”

For a moment, Nathalie debated lying, saying that her sleep had been uninterrupted. Would Lady Lucie know if she lied? But she decided to ask about the heavy yet silent black boots last night.

“There were some doors that slammed last night. I don’t know if you heard them. They woke me up, and I saw something...strange.”

“Oh? Strange how?” Lady Lucie seemed surprised, though Nathalie couldn’t fathom how. The doors had been quite loud, and she wasn’t sure how anyone could sleep through them.

“There was...a person, in the hallway upstairs, I think. I saw, under my door, a pair of black boots, but they were silent.” She decided to leave out the part where they had walked towards her door, and had seemingly been called away.

Lady Lucie paled. “Le Cavalier de l'ombre.”

“The what?”

“Cavalier de l'ombre. A legend,” she said, jumping up. “Come, to the library, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Nathalie had no time to argue, because Lady Lucie had grabbed her wrist and was pulling her away from the table. She had no choice but to run to keep up as they wound through hallways, past closed off sitting rooms and boarded up doors, too many to count. Finally, they reached a pair of the largest doors Nathalie had ever seen, even larger than the front doors. Lady Lucie let go of her wrist to push the door open, not straining despite their size.

Had she not been terrified of what seemed to be imminent doom, Nathalie would have stopped and marveled at the library. The ceiling was three stories tall, and at least half of Hazelford Children’s Manor alone could fit in here. Bookshelves spanned from floor to ceiling, with two balconies wrapping around the entire room so books higher up could be accessed. There were at least a dozen ladders hung onto rods above the bookcases with small wheels at the bottom so one could reach any book they pleased. The highest balconies had small baskets on pulleys to lower books down while climbing down the narrow spiral staircases hidden in the corners. Grand chandeliers illuminated the room, along with the light streaming in the great stained glass windows directly opposite the doors, the only bit of wall space that wasn’t covered in books. Sofas, tables, armchairs, and desks were scattered about so that everyone had a spot to read and study, although there was a fair number of floor pillows as well.

But Nathalie had no time to marvel at these wonders as she was dragged up a spiral staircase and around a balcony until Lady Lucie stopped so abruptly, she almost fell over.

“Here it is,” Lady Lucie said breathlessly, pulling a book off a shelf at eye-level and flipping through it frantically. “Legends of the Ladies, by Lady Auriane. It’s old, maybe 12 cycles, but it’s one of the best when it comes to our lore. Here,” she said, settling on a page and pointing to the header. “Le Cavalier de l'ombre.”

She offered it to Nathalie, and she took it and started reading. “Le Cavalier de l’ombre is a figure who has no face, makes no sound, and leaves no memory of their visit. They travel in shadow, typically appearing at night to unsuspecting souls. Only appearing to the ladies of the order thus far, they seem to steal immortality, weakening the lady until she has no life left within her, so she meets her demise shortly thereafter. The ladies who fall victim pass with no knowledge as to how or why. No lady has been able to speak of how their immortality is stolen, but all can recall a sense of dread and a drop in temperature before their memory is blank. There seems to be no pattern as to who falls victim to this being, but they will choose one lady and pursue them until they have achieved their goals. Thus far there has been no way found to harm this creature.”

Nathalie finished reading and looked at Lady Lucie, who was paler than any person Nathalie had ever seen. “What does this mean?”

“It means,” Lady Lucie choked, “you’re the next victim of le cavalier de l’ombre, and we don’t know how to stop it.”