#and all the comments were like 'oh yeah i saw him in a deli'

[thebreakfastgenie]

:D glad I could spread the word lol

#everyone on long island knows somebody who got into a bar fight with billy joel#i’m kinda surprised i’ve never known that tbh @pannegoelyn

did he win any of those fights because according to his song he lost a lot of fights lol

I was just thinking about this comment and lo and behold I found it again

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him���even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

[rreyie]

Porco for fluff alphabet?

porco galliard fluff alphabet

warnings- very very mildly suggestive themes

a/n- i think we all need a bf like porco, he’s so sweet i stg

A is for Activites- what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time with them?

porco will do anything you want him to do. but a favorite of his is to just go out and explore downtown marley. there’s no specific goal you’re both trying to achieve, just going where the day takes you. downtown marley is crowded, so he’s got a hand holding yours the entire time to ensure you don’t get lost. you’ll both stop in a few different stores, his favorite is whatever the aot equivalent to bath and body works is and the lingerie shop. he wants to buy stuff for you to show he cares, and you’ll probably leave with a bag or two full of different clothes, and just random things you two thought were cool. the one place he insists on stopping at is the deli. he always gets something with at least two kinds of meat, and will pay for yours as well. the day ends with getting back home and doing some cuddling on the couch while he falls asleep on your lap.

B is for Beauty- what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?

porcos favorite feature about you is the way you smile and laugh, also your hands. each time you laugh at one of his jokes, he turns a deep red at the fact that someone finds him entertaining. his world seems to light up when you’re happy and smile at him, and he will cherish each time you do so. he also loves your hands, they’re just perfect for holding and he loves to intertwine your fingers.

C is for Comfort- how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

porco would do anything in his power to make sure you’re smiling by the end of the day. when his s/o feels down, he picks up on it very quickly and immediately asks what’s wrong, and who is causing you this pain. he would want you to take things slow for the day, he’ll be doing all the work for the next 24 hours. if you want affection, he will hold you while you cry into his shoulder. there’s a good chance he will cry with you, since he is upset seeing you like this. when you’re having a panic attack, he drops everything to get to you. if you’re immobilized by the emotion, he will carry you to a secluded room if there’s one nearby to give you some quiet with him. he will embrace you like he never has before, stroking your hair and whispering “you’ll be alright, i’m here honey. take your time.” he will be more understanding if you’re not okay by the end of the day since he knows these things are serious and he wants to make sure you’re completely okay before resuming back to normal.

D is for Dreams- how do they picture their future with their s/o?

porco dreams of having a family with you. once the war is over, he will make it a priority to get the two of you married and move out to a house in marley. porco absolutely adores children, so he would probably two with you. he wants two boys that can have the same kind of bond that he and marcel had. he would probably have enough money at this point that he could retire because of his service in the war, so he will become a stay home dad and watch his two boys. and he will probably name one of his sons marcel jr.

E is for Equal- are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

porco wants both of you to have the same level of commitment and dominance in the relationship.

F is for Fight- would they be easy to forgive their s/o? how are they fighting?

porco has a temper. he’s quick to snap. the fighting was likely initiated by him, possibly because he saw you hanging around reiner for too long today. it never gets violent, but porco can’t control what comes out of his mouth sometimes. he might throw an insult here and there. if you leave the room in tears, he will beat himself up over it and once he’s given you some space, he will apologize while trying to hold back tears because he feels like a shitty boyfriend for doing this to you. if you’re the one who apologizes first, he will pretend to act mad but really he’s not deep down inside because he loves you that much.

G is for Gratitude- how grateful are they in general? are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

porco might not say it, but he appreciates what you’re doing for him. instead, he will do things in return to show he’s grateful, i’ll get into that later down the list. he is overall pretty aware of how dedicated his s/o is to him.

H is for Honesty- do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? or do they share everything?

the only reason that you know everything that’s up with porco is because he vents to you very often. he does keep his fair share of secrets though, but they are very minor- except one. most of his secrets are about the war, one of his best kept and worst secrets about him was that he killed a child while at war with the mid east allied forces. he still feels terrible about it to this day, and wouldn’t want you finding out about what he did during the war.

I is for Inspirational- did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

you likely changed porco more than he changed you. porco has a tough guy exterior and was pretty self absorbed before meeting you, but he learned that it was okay to cry and let his guard down around you. he also became a little more selfless, since he would do anything to protect you. 

J is for Jealousy- do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?

porco is one to get jealous very easily. he’s possessive too. if he sees you hanging around reiner for a minute too long, he holds a grudge on you. he doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the day, and when you meet up with him to head back to your bedrooms, he just says “so reiner is gonna replace me, huh?” and walks off without another word. you’re gonna have to smother him in kisses to let him know you still love him more than anyone else, and stay the night while he clings to you in his sleep.

K is for Kissing- are they a good kisser? what was the first kiss like?

porco loves to kiss. he’s amazing at it too. his kisses are sloppy, lazy, slow, and teasing, with a lot of tongue and spit. his favorite place to kiss is on your bed just to get some privacy to do whatever you want. he especially loves when you’re both half naked and kissing so he can feel your skin on his. the first kiss was in town next to a fountain, where he confessed his feelings to you. you told him to close his eyes and you went in for it, and he kissed you back instantly. the blush on his cheeks was insane once you pulled away.

L is for Love Confession- how would they confess to their s/o?

after the festival in liberio, he stood with you and watched the fountain in town square. you made a comment on how pretty his eyes looked in the moonlight, and he made a bad attempt at complimenting your face, which made you giggle. hearing you laugh made the butterflies errupt in his stomach, and he knew he couldn’t hide it anymore. he said, “look y/n, i have no clue if you’re gonna hate me after what i’m about to say, if you think i’m weird just say something, but i like you. i have since i met you, and i think i want to be with you- oh god, i don’t even like you, i love you-“ you had to shut him up and kiss him on the lips before he started to ramble about how much he loves you.

M is for Marriage- do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the marriage be like?

of course porco would want to get married, he’s a family man. he would probably propose somewhere very informally, like you two were talking about it one day and he’s like “well i mean there’s no better person than you that i would want to marry, you would make a wonderful wife-“ and that’s how it all started. you two got married in a church in liberio, with pieck as the maid of honor and zeke as the best man. he cried when he saw you in that white gown, he thought you looked like a princess. the marriage would be fun and laid back, you two would travel a lot before settling down about a year later.

N is for Nicknames- what do they call their s/o?

he calls you “babe” and “baby” a lot. occasionally he will call you “honey” or a variation of your name.

O is for On Cloud Nine- what are they like when they are in love? is it obvious for others? how do they express their feelings?

he’s a flustered, bashful baby. if you even look his way he will turn red. he tries to show off his skills, and wants to make himself stand out above the rest. he does his hair with extra care in the morning and starts to wash his face to make his skin look better. pieck picks up on it first, and she will occasionally say something about it, but all porco will do is grumble something and brush it off. zeke will notice and say something as well. porco expresses his feelings by occasionally complimenting you on your outfit, and sneaking a touch here and there like if he’s brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. if you do the same to him, his brain will stop working for a moment.

P is for PDA- are they upfront about their relationship? do they brag with their s/o in front of others? or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

porco is a big fan of pda and bragging. especially if you’re within 10 feet of reiner. he makes it very known that he’s taken, the first time he walked into the meeting room in front of the other warriors he literally announced, “oh yeah, y/n is my girlfriend now. just thought you guys should know.” he loves to talk about you with the other guys, not in a bad way but like sharing stories about time you two spent together, how wonderful you are, and quite frankly the other guys are kind of tired of hearing a new story about you every hour. porco won’t hesitate to kiss or show affection in public, not full out making out but like a medium length kiss on the lips is acceptable. he’s always got his hands on you in public too, like an arm slung around your shoulder or just holding your hand. he wants everyone to know you’re his.

Q is for Quirk- some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

not quite sure if this is beneficial in the relationship but he gives the best piggyback rides. he has a really strong back that’s able to lift you up and he loves hearing your little giggles as he hoists you up into the air and onto his back. then he will run all around the place with you on his back in a fruitful attempt to make you laugh and smile.

R is for Romance- how romantic are they? what would they do to make their s/o happy? cliché or rather creative?

porco is in general a very romantic person. he will always treat you and try to make you happy just like to do to him. one of his favorite things to do for you is to take you out to some expensive restaurant in the rich part of marley and treat you to dinner. he wears his best suit and thinks you look absolutely stunning in that outfit of yours, which makes a little blush bloom on his face. he is vocal when it comes to telling you “i love you” and will say it to you at least 3 times a day. when you come back from an expedition in the mid east, he will be waiting for you in the train station with a big sign that says “welcome home y/n” and a bouquet of roses.

S is for Support- are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? do they believe in them?

porco thinks you should go for whatever makes you happy. he doesn’t exactly know how to help, but he will give you words of encouragement- like “you’re doing so well babe!” or “i love how you’re so determined, keep it up!” he truly does believe you can achieve whatever goal you’re working towards, he has a lot of faith in you.

T is for Thrill- do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? or do they prefer a certain routine?

porco loves change, and he would like a new way of doing things. it can be anything from going to a different place for dinner or waking up at a different time, he just wants things to always be different. he values thrill and spice to your relationship, it’s a key element to dating him.

U is for Understanding- how good do they know their partner? are they empathetic?

he will slowly learn more about you throughout your relationship, but empathy is something he needs to work on. every new bit of information he learns about his parter surprises him, and he makes a mental note of it to use for later. empathy is different though, because of his tough guy exterior he didn’t find empathy easy in the beginning. in fact, the first time you vented to him he said something along the lines of “well? get over it. it’s not worth dwelling on it.” when you ran off crying, from then on he made sure to never say that again.

V is for Value- how important is the relationship to them? what is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

your relationship is one of the reasons why he keeps fighting with the war going on. he wants to have that future with you and live a peaceful life after, so in a way it’s a priority.

W is for Wild Card- a random fluff headcanon.

porco is a blanket hog when you go to sleep together. he doesn’t realize it but after he starts to sleep, he will grab the blanket and roll himself in it so that he’s in a blanket burrito and your shivering on the other side. he also snores very loudly. if you wake him up to tell him he will begrudgingly give you some of the blanket, but then he gets cold. he will cling to you the entire night in an effort to keep warm.

X is for XOXO- are they very affectionate? do they love to kiss and cuddle?

porco is a cuddle bug once you get to know him. he especially loves to cuddle in bed or on the couch. he loves it when you fall asleep on him so he can see how pretty your face is when you sleep. porco kisses you many times per day. on the neck, lips, cheek, collarbone, hand, anywhere he can have access to. he loves it when you kiss him back and leave a hickey or love bite.

Y is for Yearning- how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he will try to keep in contact with their partner and keep something of theirs by his side always until they come back. if the time is okay, he will write you letters and expect you to write one back saying that you’re alright. he will grab a t shirt you wore out of the hamper and sleep with it for the night because it smells like you. he also might cry a little because he misses you, and he will shed a tear once you come back home with the biggest hug and kiss.

Z is for Zeal- are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? if so, what kind of?

porco would go lengths for the relationship, especially if your life was on the line. he would do everything in his power to make sure you’re safe and comfortable. this is lowkey funny but if you two were in immediate danger, he would let you ride on the back of his titan while he runs to safety. he would sacrifice his life for you as well.

[echoghost1]

Out Of This World (And Into The Next)

Word Count: 6,062

For: @theaxolotkween & @rayghosts/@ghostsray

Summary: What if when Danny first fought the Lunch Lady ghost she actually noticed how young he was. What if she didn't know he was more than just another ghost? What if when she commented on how underweight he was, she decided to help him?

You can read on AO3 or down below the cut

“Don't you see?” The lunch lady screamed as she holds Danny upsidedown by just his ankle, “This is why you need meat! You're skin and bones!” She holds him up higher and really looks at him before addressing him directly in her calmer tone, “When was the last time you ate anything?”

“Uh,” Danny started intelligently as he tried to ignore how odd it was that all the blood wasn’t rushing to his head, “This morning?”

It must be a ghost thing. If he could float then gravity wasn’t really affecting him the same.

“Yeah, I had cereal.” he nods, then adds to himself as an afterthought, “Didn’t finish it though.”

“What?! You didn’t! What about lunch then? It’s past noon!”

“Well this is my lunch hour,” he shrugged, “and I was about to eat, but uh,” he couldn’t help the wince as he finished, “then you showed up?”

She gasped and immediately let go of him.

He dropped about a foot before he flipped in the air and floated back upward right side up.

“Well, that simply will not do!” She looked over him with an expression that Danny wasn’t sure if it was pity or concern. He’d seen Jazz make that face at him a lot, that was for sure.

“Here, eat this!” she said as she shoved a piece of cake straight into his mouth.

With no other choice but to accept, he swallowed it. He wiped his lips for the remaining frosting with his thumb as the flavor of the cake made itself known. It was probably the best piece of cake he had ever had in his life. “Wow, that was delicious!”

He eagerly licked his fingers clean before looking back at her, “Do you have more?”

She smiled, “Certainly child. Right this way.” she held out her arm and gestured him to follow her.

They floated over to the back wall and she opened the door to the walk-in freezer. Only when she opened it, it wasn’t a freezer on the inside. It was the ghost zone.

He stopped in his tracks as he felt the chill from the freezer portal slowly edge its way towards him.

She turned back holding her hand out to him but stopped when she noticed his reaction, “What’s the matter, dear? Aren’t you coming?”

“I,” he hesitated slowly shaking his head, “I can’t go in there.”

She stared at him for a moment before a look of realization crossed her face, “Have you never crossed into the veil before?”

He assumed she meant the ghost zone so he shook his head no.

“Really? Odd, you feel just like it.”

He wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so he didn’t say anything.

She smiled again and floated closer to him, “You haven’t been a ghost for very long, have you?”

He didn’t see the point in lying, so he didn’t. “It’s only been a month.”

She was close enough to gently run the back of her finger down his cheek, “And yet you’re so fully-formed? Even without crossing? You must have a very strong will.”

He was so confused right now. Not even five minutes ago they were throwing punches and now she was comforting him? Were all ghosts this weird?

“Is your family still around?”

“Yeah.”

“Do they know you’re still here?”

“Of course they do! I live with them,” he answered totally perplexed as to what she was asking him. It seemed like there was some meaning that he just wasn’t understanding.

She gasped, “You’re haunting them?”

His hands sprung up on instinct and he waved them around trying to get rid of that line of thinking completely. “No, no, no! I can’t be haunting them! I’m not a ghost.”

She raised an eyebrow and floated back just a hair to completely get him in her view, “Hate to break it to you, Sugar, but,” she gestured to all of him or more importantly the fact that he was glowing and floating and looked exactly like a ghost right now.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I mean I am right now, but not all the time!”

She pulled him into a hug, “It’s okay, Sweetheart. I know it’s confusing. Especially with how young you are.” she leaned back and examined his face with that same Jazz-face she had made earlier, “You had an accident? It happened fast, didn’t it?”

How did she know that?

“Where was your family?”

He looked down towards his boots and rubbed his arm, “Jazz was upstairs. In her room, I think?”

“And your parents?”

He tried to think back to that day. It was only a month ago, but some of the details were a little fuzzy.

Had his parents just gone upstairs or were they out that day? Hadn’t they just tried to turn it on? No, it was a few days after that, right? Had he been alone or were Sam and Tucker there?

His head started to hurt as he tried to remember. It was like someone had taken an egg beater to his brains and scrambled them.

The lunch lady ghost pulled him into her arms and rubbed his back soothingly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. I wasn’t sure how much you knew. Or how much you could handle.”

He pulled back, resting his hands on her broad shoulders, “Do you know?” he was so confused right now.

She smiled gently, “No honey, we only just met today.”

“Oh yeah,” he knew that.

He grimaced as the throbbing from his headache flared up. As if he was going to forget about that anytime soon. He rubbed his fist into his forehead trying to soothe the ache.

He thought he heard someone calling to him but he couldn’t focus.

“Why don’t we get you something to eat. That should make that nasty headache go away.” she patted him on the back and pushed him back down towards her shoulder.

The coolness of her body felt so nice that he closed his eyes and hummed in contentment.

“That’s right, just relax,” she whispered.

He could feel her move, the gentle sway as she floated was at just the right rhythm for him to let himself drift off to sleep.

He hadn’t even realized he was that tired until then.

Being a ghost was exhausting.

===============================================

Danny opened his eyes and was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. It was very high and the plain white paint was interrupted with large wooden cross beams.

He sat up immediately and floated a couple of inches off the bed. He looked down and found he was still in his ghost form.

He had never woken up that way before.

He looked back at the bed. It had a blue metal frame with one side that arched up along the wall, it reminded him of the bed he’d use whenever he’d visit his grandmother’s house. He had to think for a moment but then remembered what it was called, a daybed.

Why was he sleeping on a daybed?

“I’m supposed to be at school!”

He flew towards the door, but hesitated before he grasped the handle. He slowly reached out and tried to phase his hand through the door.

His hand just ran into the door as if he was solid. But he could feel that tingly feeling in his hand which meant he was using his power.

So why wasn’t it working?

He shrugged and went to open the door normally.

It opened.

He peered out and saw a short empty hall. The brickwork that was in the room he had woken up in, carried out into the hall as well.

There was a familiar scent wafting towards him and floated silently into the room at the end of the hall.

“Grilled Cheese?” he asked softly.

In front of a large flattop grill, like the kind in restaurants, was the Lunch Lady ghost and she was in fact, making a bunch of grilled cheese sandwiches. He looked around the room and found no one else there. Why was she making so many?

She turned to face him and smiled, “Well hello there Sweetpea. You feeling any better after your nap?”

“Uh, yeah?”

And he did. His headache had gone away. Although he was still really confused. Was this where she lived?

It looked like a studio loft apartment and an industrial kitchen had a baby. Weird, but it did fit her.

“Good to hear. You hungry? Lunch is just about ready.”

“Yeah okay.”

If he had slept wouldn’t it be time for dinner?

She put a couple of sandwiches on a plate for him, they were cut into triangles. “Milk?” she asked as she pushed the plate across the counter towards him.

He climbed up onto the barstool and just agreed to that too.

Why not? He couldn’t think of a reason not to. Besides he was hungry.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” he asked as he carefully picked up the hot triangle of cheesy goodness.

“No.” She set a large glass of milk down for him. Much larger than he would have poured for himself.

“Okay.”

This was so weird.

She didn’t think he was going to eat all of those, did she? There had to be at least ten sandwiches on the grill. She already gave him two to start with.

It felt like she was trying to fatten him up.

He really hoped this didn’t turn out to be some Hanzel and Gretel situation.

He took his bite and once again was overwhelmed by just how amazing her food was. It wasn’t just that it was perfectly grilled crispy bread, or that the cheese was just the right kind that it got stringy as he pulled it apart, it even had thin slices of lightly browned deli meats. The first one had ham but the next one was chicken.

Before he could even think to stop himself he had cleared his plate and downed half the milk.

She smiled and filled his plate again. “Don’t be shy now, have as much as you like.”

And he did.

After several minutes he finally pushed the plate away. If he even so much as thought about food, he’d explode.

He groaned and leaned back in the chair. It was so good, but his eyes must have been bigger than his stomach.

“Aw come here, you cute little bean,” she said as she floated around the counter and picked him up to place over her shoulder like he was a little kid.

“Hey!” he protested weakly while still feeling lethargic.

She ignored him and started to pat his back.

He hoped she wasn’t doing what he thought she was doing.

And did she get taller or something, because he didn’t think he was that much smaller than her.

Before he could fully process the situation he burped.

“Ah, that’s a good boy.”

Oh my god, she was doing that!?

He squirmed in her arms. He was not about to be treated like a baby. Absolutely not!

“Hey now, stop that.” she lightly scolded as if he wasn’t any threat to her at all.

Then again, he hadn’t been doing very well in their fight at the school.

“You,” he burped again, “stop it!”

He did not like this one bit. Even if burps made his tummy hurt less.

Wait, did he just think the word tummy?

He meant stomach. He was a big boy, he was supposed to use big boy words.

Wait, no!

“What are you doing to me?!” his voice came out a lot squeakier than he wanted. It was higher pitched than it was this morning too.

“I’m not doing anything,” and the look on her face showed she was telling the truth.

He looked down at his hands. They were so little now.

Somehow, he's gotten younger.

“Why am I little?” he said and his voice sounded even tinier.

She rested him against her hip, seeing as he was now about half his age, and smoothed back his hair, “that’s just what the veil does to some folks. It helps you learn about being a ghost I think. It’s easier to start from the beginning and all that.”

She walked away from the kitchen and back towards the room he had started in.

His room.

“Now I think after all that excitement, we best get you to bed.”

“But I’m not tired,” he said with a betraying yawn.

Or at least he hadn’t been a minute ago.

She tucked him in and kissed his forehead. “Sweet dreams, Cupcake.”

“Night night,” he mumbled already falling asleep.

===============================================

The next time he woke up he was much too small to get out of bed on his own. Or at least he didn’t want to risk it. The bed was very tall and he didn’t want to fall down.

“Ready for lunch?” she asked as she picked him up, “I made spaghetti.”

“Sketti!” he cheered and clapped. If her cheesy sandwiches were yummy he’d bet her noodles were just as good.

For just a moment as she set him in his high chair he thought it was a little odd that they were having lunch again.

Maybe it was always lunchtime here?

He forgot the thought the second she handed him his sippy cup. Apple juice was his favorite!

He was halfway through his second plate of spaghetti when he got bored and decided he’d rather play with the floppy noodles instead.

“Oh okay, I think it’s time for Nanna to just take that away now,” Nanna said as she did just that.

He pouted but then pulled his foot up through the hole in his chair just to see if he could.

He could! Fun!

The buckle was looser than it was before, despite his full tummy.

Nanna turned around and gasped, “Oh you’re getting sauce everywhere!” he floated up out of the chair as she approached, his legs disappeared into a tail as he moved.

He looked down at his new tail in awe.

Then immediately stuck the tip of it into his mouth just to see what it felt like.

He didn’t like it.

Nanna chuckled and plucked him out of the air like an apple from a tree. She cleaned up his face and hands. And feet! As soon as he figured out how to make them come back.

“Alright, beddy-bye time.”

He flinched. The last time he went sleep he got little. If he went sleep again would he keep getting tiny? What if he got so little Nanna couldn’t see him?

He burst into tears and started bawling.

“Oh? Oh no! What’s wrong?”

But he couldn’t answer her. He was much too upset. Also, what were words? He didn’t know how to.

She rocked him in her arms and did her best to soothe him.

He started to get sleepy from the motion but that just launched him right back into hysterics.

“Are you scared to go to sleep?”

He rubbed the tears and the sleep out of his eyes as best he could as he nodded.

“Oh pumpkin, you’ll be okay.”

He shook his head.

“No? Why not?”

He slowly clapped his hands together once, to show getting small. Then he said, “poof.”

She blinked a couple of times then nodded in understanding, “You’re not going to get any smaller. I think you’re done. Now we get to see you grow up again.”

His eyes went wide with surprise.

“Yeah, you’ll be big. And even better, we get to find out what you love the very most.”

He didn’t really understand that last part. What could he love more than Nanna? He hugged her so she would know.

===============================================

He was just staring out the window when she came in to check on him.

The window didn’t use to be there, but sometimes things like that happened. Nanna could change the size of the things in the kitchen to whatever she needed them to be. Whatever food she wanted to cook she always had the ingredients.

He hadn’t been able to change anything before, but he was older now.

“What’s out there?” he asked as he gazed at the swirling green void. There wasn’t much to see, but there had to be something else right?

“Come on, Sweetiepie, it’s time for lunch.”

He sighed and followed her out. “Can I go outside after lunch?” he asked as he sat at the counter. He was happy he was finally big enough to sit on the tall chairs. He liked being able to kick his legs while he sat.

“I don’t know, you’re still so young.”

“But Nanna! I’m seven now! Isn’t that big enough?”

“You were fourteen when I brought you home.”

He scrunched up his nose as he pouted. It’s not his fault being here turned him into a baby and he had to grow up again.

“No more pouting.” she chided as she pinched his chubby cheek affectionately.

He sighed and wondered if Boxy was going to come over again. The Box Ghost didn’t visit all the time, but he was fun to play with when he did. Maybe Boxy would let him go outside.

He just wanted to know what was out there.

===============================================

When he was eleven, Nanna tried to help him find what she called, his Spark. The thing that he loved the most.

He still wasn’t sure what that meant.

“What’s your Spark?” he asked while he was stirring the batter for the cookies.

“Why that would be lunch of course.” she ruffled his fluffy white hair, “And you’re a close second.”

“So other people aren’t Sparks?”

She sprinkled in the chocolate chips as he continued to stir, “I think they can be sometimes, but that’s pretty rare. Sparks form around ideas or things. I don’t think it’s very healthy to have one for another person.”

He just stared into the batter as the chips slowly sank into the thick creamy dough. Something about it looked familiar.

“How do I know what my Spark is?”

“It’s hard to say. It’s different for everybody. For me, I knew right away. I always had a passion for cooking, and lunch was always my favorite meal of the day.”

She pulled out the baking sheet, set it next to the bowl, and handed him a spoon to scoop out portions.

“Basically, there’s something for you out there that fills you with joy and wonder and purpose. Something so wonderful and amazing that you want to do it every day, or you want to always have it with you. Maybe even start a collection of the thing.”

“Like how Boxy is with boxes?”

“Exactly!” she smiled happy that he was starting to understand.

“But how will I know what I like if all I know is here?” he dropped his cookie dough ball onto the sheet and looked up to the kitchen window.

There was a window in every room now. Always ready for him to see into the void of green.

It was never enough.

“Do you think this has anything to do with the windows?”

Nanna stopped, looked up, and just stared at the nearest window. It almost seemed like she hadn’t noticed it before now.

She hummed thoughtfully, “You know, you might be on to something.”

He perked up, floating high enough to be eye level, his tail swishing in excitement, “You think so?!”

“Maybe we can go out for a picnic the next time Box Ghost stops by.”

He flipped in the air as he clapped.

He couldn’t wait.

===============================================

It took much longer than he would have liked for Boxy to finally show up again. He hoped it wasn’t on purpose.

Nanna packed the biggest basket for their picnic that he had ever seen and Boxy carried the checkered picnic blanket.

Nanna told him he had to stay close, but she didn’t make him hold her hand the whole time so that was nice.

He was twelve now so he was old enough to know how to stay close and not get distracted.

Even if there was just so much to look at. Mostly everything was green outside of Nanna’s house, but sometimes there were bands of darker or even light greens. Occasionally they would pass by purple doors.

Nanna made sure he knew what her door looked like before they headed out into the abyss.

“If you get lost you just head home okay. You just go inside and wait for me.”

He nodded as he memorized her door. It was purple, like all the others, but it didn’t have a handle. It was the kind that just swung open when you pushed it. Whether you were on the inside or the outside, it always swung outward. The bottom third of the door was metallic and shiny enough for him to see his own reflection. Above that was a little circular window, like a porthole on a ship.

He wasn’t sure why that made him smile.

Once she was confident that he could recognize the door they made their way out.

They flew for a while amongst the endless green sky until they came across a doorway. He hesitated for just a moment. The frame looked familiar. Very familiar.

“Are you sure it’s safe to go in there?” he asked as he hovered closer to Nanna.

“Of course, Dumpling. It’s the most stable gateway.”

He knew that.

“Did you want me, the Box Ghost, to go first and scare off any nasty humans?”

Danny nodded and took the wrapped-up picnic blanket from Boxy and hugged it to his chest.

Boxy came back after a few minutes, his head the only thing poking back on their side of the portal, “The Box Ghost has found no one!”

The trio flew out of the portal and straight up through the house until they were outside.

The air felt so different here and he didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed the difference sooner. He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky above. It was pitch black and he could barely make out a few twinkling stars. He couldn’t stop the smile on his face when he saw the crescent moon above.

How could he not smile when it smiled at him first? He wasn’t sure if it was a waxing or waning crescent.

He paused and wondered if this was it. Was this his Spark?

He followed Nanna and Boxy to the park and they had a lovely time with food that was delicious, as always.

He couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting up to the sky whenever there was a lull in the conversation.

“What’s on your mind, Honey?” Nanna asked as she packed up the last of the, now empty, food containers.

“I found my Spark,” he said in barely a whisper, eyes still trained on the sky above.

===============================================

Now that he had found his Spark it felt like everything was moving so fast. His powers came to him more easily. The outfit that he always wore changed to better suit his Spark. He found new things that only he could do.

He loved every second of it.

Then before he knew it, he was fourteen again.

“I think you’re ready now,” Nanna said after a particularly quiet lunch.

“You think so?” he floated out of his seat and helped her with the dishes.

She set the plate down on the counter and took his gloved hand in hers, “Yes my little explorer. You were made to roam.”

He was beyond excited but he had spent so much time with Nanna that he knew he’d miss her, “How about I leave after lunch tomorrow?”

===============================================

He floated in the basement invisibly. He had meant to just pass through, but the room hadn’t been empty.

He just floated there and watched her work.

She was completely oblivious to his presence.

He hadn’t thought of her once while he’d been away.

He had to smother himself when he audibly gasped at the realization.

She flinched and looked around. She never looked to where he was floating.

He was about to just float back inside the portal, about to just call the whole thing off and go back to Nanna’s.

He was, but she shut the portal doors before he could slip back through.

She reached for her hood and slipped the red-tinted goggles over her eyes.

He flew away before she could do anything else.

He found himself in the park. The same one he had found his Spark in.

He looked up to the bright sunny sky. It wasn’t as lovely as the night sky, but it had its own charm.

He floated up and sat in the nearest tree as he tried to decide what to do from here.

Nanna said it wasn’t good to linger. She said not to haunt people. Not to cling to the living.

But that was his mom.

He looked down at his white gloves and wondered if he could still do it. He wouldn’t go back if he couldn’t.

===============================================

He could.

He wasn’t sure why though. This ability had nothing to do with his Spark. It made no sense

Unless he was right before and he wasn’t just a ghost? But wouldn’t Nanna know that?

He stood on the front steps of his childhood home and hesitated. His hand raised to knock on the door, but it was his house wasn’t it? Maybe he should just walk in?

But how long had he been gone?

He should have checked that first.

He dropped his hand and turned around trying to think of the best way to figure that out while also trying to remember what day it was when he left.

The door opened behind him and the person stopped mid-word to gasp, “Danny?”

He turned and felt like a deer in the headlights.

His sister.

God, he hadn’t thought about her either.

He was a terrible brother. A horrible son.

He should have never come here.

She hugged him and all his thoughts stopped.

“Danny, where have you been?” she pulled him tighter before pulling back to really look at him. Checking to see if he was hurt.

His eyes started to water, which was not something he wanted. He didn’t want to cry in front of his sister and he definitely didn’t want to do it on the front steps where anyone could walk by and see him.

“Oh, it’s okay! Come here,” she pulled him into the house and he didn’t resist.

He was too busy trying to keep all the liquid in his face to stay in its proper places.

They sat on the couch but she didn’t let him go. It was like she was afraid that he’d disappear if she wasn’t touching him.

That was a silly thing to think. He could disappear anytime he liked. Human contact had nothing to do with his ability to be perceived by the human eye.

Seeing his normally level-headed sister have such an irrational thought helped him calm down a bit.

“When Sam and Tucker told everyone that you’d been taken yesterday I never expected you to just appear on the doorstep.”

His mouth dropped open slightly but he couldn’t find his voice. Yesterday? He had an existential crisis, was taken in by a nice ghost grandma, figured out the point of his continued existence. Oh and had regressed into a baby and grown-up again, in only one day?!

“How?” the word was so soft Jazz didn’t even notice.

She just kept on talking, “I mean the weird story about a meat monster spiriting you away was definitely original, but obviously not believable. Well not believable to anyone but mom and dad of course.” she looked him over again with a more critical eye, “Where were you anyway? Did you try to run away again?”

He didn’t know how to answer her. He wasn’t sure if he should lie, tell the truth, maybe even just let her believe whatever it was that she wanted to believe.

He just hugged her again. His face burrowed into her shoulder all he could think to do was say he was sorry. So he did.

Over and over and over again.

Was he sorry for disappearing or for being a ghost? He didn’t know. Maybe it was both.

He didn’t know if it was just a coincidence or if he had been crying loud enough, but his parents were soon there too and everyone was hugging him tightly.

His breaths came in shuddering gasps and it took him several minutes before he could calm down again. Everything just felt so much. He felt so warm and alive.

He still didn’t know what to tell his family about why he disappeared. Or what he really was.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to tell them.

When they finally asked he said he didn’t know. He just acted like he didn’t remember anything at all.

He was saving the true story for his friends.

===============================================

He had to wait until the weekend because his parents refused to let him go to school until they figured out who had taken him.

But he couldn’t tell them now. They’d hurt Nanna.

They might hurt him too.

He remembers the stories his mom used to tell. The ones about changelings. How angry she would look just thinking about them.

He was just glad all the tests she tried didn’t tell her he was different. That as far as she was concerned he was human.

The tests only proved that he was the original.

I guess it was nice that she didn’t assume the worst.

He was sitting on his bed with his blankets purposely fluffed up around him. He needed to hide the fact that he wasn’t actually touching the bed, that he was floating a few inches above it.

He was always floating at Nanna’s and it just felt weird not to.

There was a tentative knock on his door and he flew over and silently landed before opening it.

His friends instantly tackled him with affection. The trio was on the ground in a tangle of limbs and apologies.

Once they finally stopped talking over each other and untangled themselves, Danny closed the door as they each took their favorite seats. Tucker in his computer chair and Sam on the windowsill.

Danny took his spot on the bed and pulled his knees up to his chest. It had been over a week and he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain what happened. He still had a hard time figuring out how he had spent so long away in such a small window of time.

“So do you really not remember or is that just what you’re telling your folks?” Sam asked as she kept her eyes trained on him. It was like she was looking for any hint at all for the truth.

“It’s hard to explain.” he started simply.

“Just start at the beginning. What happened after the lunch lady napped you?” Tucker prepped as he anxiously fidgeted in the desk chair enough to wobble it.

“I fell asleep? And when I woke up Nanna was making lunch.” he couldn’t help the fond smile, “She always makes the best lunches. She only makes lunch. It’s only ever lunch. Good though.”

“Nanna?” Tucker asked as he shared his confused look with Sam.

“Yeah. that’s just what I call her. I don’t think that’s her name.”

“Okay? But why call her that?”

“Because she’s my Nanna?” he tilted his head to the side and realized that this was already getting hard to explain and he hadn’t even gotten to the weird stuff yet.

“Like your grandma?” Tucker asked like he was grasping at straws.

“Yeah!” Danny pointed excitedly at Tucker, glad to have a word for it. “She’s my ghost grandma!”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“She literally kidnapped you.”

“No, she didn’t kidnap me. She just took me home with her.”

“Did you want to go home with her?” Sam asked slowly like he was a toddler again.

He did a quick check and he was in fact still a teenager. “It was more like I was abruptly adopted.”

“Is that a thing?” Tucker asked with the most incredulous look.

“Yeah, it’s a ghost thing. Nanna says that older ghosts can adopt any child ghosts, or in my case, baby ghost, that they come across. Luckily, I’m a teenager now! Again?” he put a finger to his lips as he thought about whether or not it would be ‘again’ or not.

Tucker snickered, “Hold on, you’re a baby ghost?”

“Former baby. I’m done with that now.” he sighed and looked away as he mumbled to himself, “I’m so glad that’s over.”

“Excuse me, what?” Sam exclaimed wide-eyed.

He chuckled nervously, “Remember when I said it was hard to explain. That’s what I meant.”

“Wait, hold up.” Tucker stood up from his perched on the edge of his seat position and started to pace, “Are you saying that you were a literal ghost baby or???”

Danny winced and visibly leaned away from his friends, “yeah… it was super weird. Also,” his shoulders were nearly touching his ears with how much he was trying to edge away from the conversation, but knowing he just needed to tell them already, “I think I was gone longer than a day.”

“WHAT?!”

Oh boy, he had a lot of explaining to do.

===============================================

After a very long and snack-filled conversation later, it finally seemed like that they were all up to speed on what had happened to Danny.

“Man, I wish I could have seen you’re baby form.” Tucker chuckled as he set his chip bowl aside.

“Why? It was just me, but littler?” then he suddenly remembered that his ghost form had changed after he found his Spark. “Oh, that’s right! I got an upgrade! Wanna see?”

“Yeah, man!” Tucker said at the same time Sam said, “Of course!”

Danny smiled and transformed.

Both his friends just gasped as they looked at him.

And then they kept staring.

His smile faltered and he bit his lip.

Sam gasped again and shot up to point right at him, “Fangs!”

Well, that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. Also, hold on?

He ran a curious tongue over his teeth and yeah she was right, his teeth were a bit sharper now. “That was probably from all the meat I ate.”

“Also you’re green,” Tucker added helpfully.

He floated over to his mirror and just stared at himself. Nanna didn’t have any mirrors and he never really thought to check.

His skin was green but much paler than Nanna’s was. He also had bright glowing freckles dusting across his nose and cheeks. It didn’t take much looking to see the constellations they could make. His hair was still white but now it moved like it was being blown in a soft breeze, or maybe it was more like he was underwater?

No! It moved like solar flares! Strands arcing and bending as if he was being affected by cosmic winds.

He smiled and saw his fangs. They weren’t too sharp or scary looking, thankfully. They looked more like slightly dramatic canines than true fangs. He’d seen a few actors with teeth like this so it wasn’t too inhuman.

But he was literally green and glowed so he wasn’t sure why he was worried about that.

Although he was surprised that no one had noticed that he was not as skinny as he was before. He’d gained, as Nanna would say, a healthy amount of weight. Then again, he did wear pretty baggy clothes. He supposed it would be easy enough to overlook that they weren’t exactly loose anymore. And his face still looked the same when he was human, he’d always had chubby cheeks.

Besides, that wasn’t even the best part. The best part was his outfit. Which his friends so rudely hadn’t mentioned yet.

The suit he wore wasn’t so clingy and form-fitting anymore. It was puffier and looked like the ones he’d seen in pictures. Except his was cooler because it had stars on it.

He was an astronaut. Just like he had always wanted to be.

[sailtoafarawayland]

Always a Pirate

Summary:  What started as a bit of mischievous fun for Emma turns into something more when she pushes her husband - always the gentleman - just a little too far, and finds herself settling the score with a very desperate pirate.

Rated: Explicit 

~ Inspired by one of our lovelies on the discord who requested some sweatpants smut - Enjoy! ~

AO3 - FF

Always a Pirate

“Swan, I can't wear these out of the house. Where are all of my pants?” Killian asked, checking for the pair he'd left folded in the laundry room, his black sweater just meeting the low-slung waistband of his joggers.

“Um, I washed them, but I forgot to start the dryer earlier. They're drying now though,” Emma muttered, tugging on her boots and reaching above her for Killian's jacket.

“Can't we wait until they're dry to go to the store?”

“Nope,” she said, tossing the leather jacket across the entryway and shooting him what she hoped was a charming smile as he snatched it out of the air. “It'll take too long, and we really need to find something for dinner and get it started. You know my parents rarely ever get a night without Neal, and David couldn't stop talking about how much they're looking forward to this. I don't want to ruin it by not having food ready. Besides, what's wrong with wearing your sweatpants?”

“These are for the privacy of our home,” he purred, sidling into her space as he slipped his jacket on, popping his hook through the sleeve. “They don't exactly provide the support and coverage a man like me needs, love.”

“Yeah, that's what those boxer briefs I bought you were for,” Emma deadpanned, ignoring how her eyes wanted to flicker to where he was most definitely not wearing her gift.

“Bloody inconvenience those things,” he muttered, dropping down beside her on the bench and lacing up his boots. “No freedom of movement, and it's only one more layer to take off.”

“Come on,” Emma laughed, very familiar with her pirate's loathing for what he called 'small clothes', “we just need to get the job done. It'll be quick, in and out, no big deal.”  

/

It wasn't until they were parked and heading into the store that Emma realized maybe bringing her husband along in pants like that was a big deal and a bad idea, all rolled into one. The soft drape of the joggers left little to the imagination as he strode in front of her, each step he took framing the firm curve of his ass. She hurried to catch up with him, glancing down to see if – yup, just like he'd said, not enough coverage for a man of his size, especially when he was walking so quickly.

A wicked idea began to form in her mind, the pang of desire between her legs making her think that a little grocery store flirtation would be just what she needed to take her mind off the anxiety of cooking dinner for her mom, a woman who's table settings alone always looked like something out of a magazine.

“Alright, Swan, let's find something to impress your mother, shall we?” Killian called back to her, hooking a cart and swinging it in front of him as he pushed through the main doors, heading straight for the fruits and vegetables, Emma's gaze lingering on the play of his firm cheeks the entire way.

“Yeah,” she sighed, her mind very far from what one did with turnips and which spices went well with salmon, instead focusing on just how she could use those sweatpants to make their shopping a little more interesting.  

She couldn't help herself.

At first it was just small comments, and she couldn't be sure if he was even picking up on her innuendos, as subtle as they were – his face serious as he looked over the display of potatoes. She decided she would have to be a little more blatant if she wanted to get a rise out of him.

“These strawberries look delicious,” she hummed, holding up the package of bright red fruits and eyeing them longingly. She stepped closer to his side, her tongue wetting her lips as he finally met her gaze, sensing she was up to something from her change in tone. “I wonder how they'd taste if you were to dip them in something other than sugar, maybe some cream? Maybe while I'm splayed out in our bed?”

“What are you doing, Swan?” he choked out, shifting on his feet as the potato he was holding dropped back onto the stack and rolled to the floor, coming to rest across the aisle.  

“Just imagining how you might feed it to me after a long night, dragging it along my folds and then – ”

“I'm not sure what your intentions are, love, but I would rethink them,” he growled lowly, maneuvering his hook to push the carton of strawberries back toward the shelf. “These pants are not meant for such thoughts.”

“Maybe that's the point,” she quipped, dropping the fruit and staring longingly at his crotch where she could easily see his hardness growing, the thin material of his sweats stretching upward over its thick outline. “I'd forgotten just how amazing you look in those pants when you're a little hot and bothered.”

“And a public place is where you decided to revisit this – and there's nothing little about me, Swan.”

“Oh, I know, and what can I say, I'm feeling a little adventurous,” she teased, her laugh following him as he ducked quickly around the fruit stand when someone stopped to give a quick hello to the town's sheriff.

He snatched a pineapple from in front of him, balancing it on the edge of the counter in front of his still growing erection, digging his palm into the spiked outer shell and doing his best to think of anything other than the way a strawberry would look, red and glistening, as he dragged it through his release as it dripped from her soft folds, coating the fruit as he rolled it across her lips...

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, willing himself to relax as Emma smiled knowingly over the shoulder of the person she was speaking with.

He'd known these sweatpants had been a terrible mistake.

And so it went through the rest of the store – Emma holding up a large, cured sausage in the deli section, running her finger up and down the wrapping as she measured its worth.  

“It's a little small, don't you think? Probably won't be enough for a cheese plate,” she concluded, leaning past him to put it back before her lips grazed his ear, her words a whisper. “I like my meat a little bigger, but you know that, don't you?”

He'd barely had enough time to seek cover behind the shopping cart before they were accosted once again by another overly friendly local – an elderly woman who waved at Emma and crooned how lovely it was to see a husband helping with the shopping, and pushing the cart as well!

He'd smiled weakly and muttered something about always being a gentleman, though the throbbing hardness between his legs and the way his thoughts were drifting to just how much of a mouthful he wanted to give his wife would indicate otherwise.  

“He's always such a big help,” Emma agreed, thanking the woman for saying hello and urging him on toward the next aisle, clearly thrilled with the game she was playing as she allowed him to find some measure of composure behind the safety of the cart.  

“You know,” she mused, studying a can of something or other, “I really do love those pants, Killian. You should wear them out more often.”

“Don't think I'll be giving you an opportunity like this ever again,” he hissed, his cheeks flushed and hand fisted tightly around the handle of the cart as he stared, jaw clenched, at the rows of canned goods in front of him. “Enjoy it while you can, Swan.”

“Oh, I intend to,” she whispered, ducking and brushing in front of him in the crowded aisle under the ruse of reaching for something on the bottom shelf, her shoulder rubbing brazenly against his crotch, all of his blood pumping once more to his aching cock.

He spun away from her physical nearness with a strangled groan that turned into a snarl of frustration as he knocked over a display of kitchen gadgets, dozens of packages clattering against the floor as the cardboard pyramid keeled to one side.  

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, doing his best to catch the thing with his hook and straighten it while still keeping his hips angled away from the other patrons in the aisle.

“You better be careful where you swing that thing,” Emma chimed in, her face a flawless mask of innocence as she motioned toward his hook, blatantly ignoring the prominent tent in his pants as she knelt and began picking up the small avalanche of peelers and can openers, her lip caught between her teeth as she gazed up to meet hard glare of his eyes, dark promise swimming in their depths.

The frozen food aisle provided some small measure of relief, and although Emma had assured him they didn't need anything from there, he took plenty of time standing in front of the open freezer doors making absolutely certain that was the case, much to her amusement. From there he'd kept his distance, pushing the cart and mentally reciting the words on each sign he saw in an attempt to tune out any new attempts at luring him into further embarrassing situations.

It was hard to avoid her brazen smile once they'd entered the check out lane, but one scowl had been enough to make his Swan back down, if only a trifle, her blatant innuendos disappearing as she made polite conversation with the woman checking them out, flashing him only the occasional look that told just how much she'd enjoyed her impromptu game.  

Her smile faltered a bit when he only returned her gaze with a deep, measured look, and perhaps she thought her was angry with her over her moment of fun. It was a misconception he didn't dispel, loading the groceries into the back seat of the bug silently before returning the cart to its place. Her good humor had shifted to something far more uncertain as he studiously avoided looking at her – good, he wanted her off balance – and it wasn't until she felt the hard steel of his hook around her wrist that she realized just exactly what she'd done.

He wasn't angry, not at all, but he was a man driven to the edge, and now she was going to bloody well see to it that some of those naughty things she's intimated came to pass.

“We're not going anywhere just yet, Swan,” he rasped, the tip of his hook grazing along her leather jacket until it slipped through the key ring she held in her hand, pulling them out of her grasp. “You put on quite the brazen display in there. Did you enjoy that, love? Making me swell with my need for you where anyone could have seen? Did you enjoy making me desperate?”

“Well, it was fun,” she admitted, “seeing you so ready for me even though we were surrounded by people, and once my parents head out for the– ”

“What you've forgotten, darling, is that desperate men will go to any lengths to get what they want,” he reminded her,  shoving the keys into his jacket and grabbing her hand, leading her firmly away from the bug.  

“Killian,” she hissed in disbelief, stumbling slightly as he dragged her toward the alley that ran between the grocery store and the next building. “The groceries! What are you doing?”

“The groceries can wait – and I think you know exactly what I'm doing, Swan.”

“We are not having sex in there,” she groaned, the words contradicting the tightening in her core as she thought about him taking her up against the shadowed brick wall, mere feet away from where people were walking to their cars.

“Aye, we are not having sex, but it's about time I put that traitorous little mouth of yours to good use.”

“Oh my god, Killian – ” she shot a nervous glance behind her as they entered the alley, no one in sight as her husband pulled her behind an empty stack of pallets where they would be concealed from anyone walking by. “We can't just – ”

“If you believe for even an instant that I'm heading back home, to sit with your bloody parents for dinner after your little game – no relief in sight as they natter on – then you've forgotten who I was before I met you...”

“A pirate,” she swallowed – she hadn't forgotten, had enjoyed teasing that part of him back to the surface – her breath leaving her as he pressed her firmly against the brick wall, his hand running along the edge of her breast before stopping to cup her cheek, eyes dark and wild.

“Aye, and pirates take what they want.”

“Well,” she teased, the uncertainty in her voice washed away by the tide of desire spreading beneath her skin as his thumb grazed over her lower lip, “it has been a while since the Captain has come to play.”

“Oh, he's never far, Swan,” Killian purred, forcing her mouth open with his finger and sampling her wet heat with the pad of his thumb. “Now, get on your knees for the Captain.”

Emma was pretty sure she'd never been so wet in her life, her leather jacket scraping along the gritty bricks as she sunk to her knees on the cold ground, Killian's stance wide and demanding as she knelt between his legs, her cheek brushing against the soft material of the sweats he hadn't wanted to wear – the ones that did nothing to hide the massive tent he was sporting, her nose grazing along its length as she nuzzled into him, inhaling deeply.

“You're not here to enjoy yourself, love,” he smirked darkly above her, “you're here to get the job done.”

She swallowed heavily, tongue and teeth worrying her lip as she looped her fingers into the waistband of his pants and yanked them down, his heavy shaft bobbing against her as she chased after it with her mouth – his head swollen and dark, glazed with a hint of precum that hit her taste buds like the most delicious reward. If this was what she got from teasing her husband – she would gladly repeat the performance.

He groaned above her, his hand fisted among her locks as he allowed her a brief moment to explore, her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock while she swallowed him down, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat. His member was only half inside the wet grasp of her mouth before she pulled back, curling her tongue around his shaft and licking at his weeping slit – but it wasn't what he wanted.

“No, no, no, Swan,” Killian chided, his grip on her tightening as he twisted her hair, forcing her to look up at him. “I know you can do better than that, love – I've watched myself disappear entirely into that tight throat of yours on many an occasion. Let's make certain to put in our best work, shall we?”

Need pulsed between Emma's legs, nearly forcing her to double over in an attempt to relieve it, but somehow she managed to nod her understanding as his fingers tugged against her scalp, wetting her lips and opening her mouth wide as she dived forward once more, abandoning her teasing in favor of getting him fully inside of her as quickly as possible, her throat finally opening as she calmed her breathing and swallowed around him, feeling his swollen head push deeper as she inhaled through her nose, her breath muffled by the thatch of dark curls at his base.

“Just like that, Swan – I'm going to fill up that naughty little mouth of yours. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bend you over the bloody bread display and fill that needy cunt?” he hissed, thrusting languidly into her throat as her eyes sought him from beneath her lashes, blown with desire, “my hand over your mouth as I took what I needed, your legs shaking around me as I painted your sweet, pink folds with my release?”

His words stoked the fire in her belly, the scrap of lace she was wearing slick and wet with her arousal as she imagined him taking her in just such a way, everyone seeing the dark, demanding man he truly was – the pirate always waiting just beneath the mask of the gentleman. The alley filled with the soft rumble of his grunts as his steel grip controlled her movements, using her mouth just as he'd promised he would, like nothing more than a  wet hole to be filled, a thing for his pleasure, not for hers.

“Do you like this, Emma? Is that why you played your little game in there, because you wanted me to use you like a whore in the back alley? Were you hoping I would fuck you, raise your hips around my own and slide into your dripping cunt?”

She writhed in his grip, his filthy words rolling over her like an actual touch, her core throbbing and clenching around its emptiness as he reamed her mouth, saliva dripping from the corners of her lips as he thrust powerfully into her, her nose butting against his stomach as he panted and moaned.

“Don't think you'll be getting it once we're at home either, love,” he growled, his deep strokes within her throat becoming erratic as his cock swelled, his release coiled and ready as his balls tightened against her chin, warning her. “I want you squirming in your seat all through dinner, your greedy quim swollen and dripping for me – remembering the taste of me right here, pressed against a dirty building, wondering if it's the...if it's the only taste you'll get...”

Emma arched her neck as he pushed deeply one last time, her throat burning as his cock thickened and erupted deeply inside of her, her muscles rippling around him as she swallowed desperately, relieved when he dragged himself half free, the pulsing head of him resting on her tongue as he shot several more ropes of hot come into her mouth, rolling forward and spreading the salty, sweet taste of himself as far as he could, a thin trickle of his release painting the corner of her mouth as she breathed and swallowed around his softening flesh, her tongue curling around his shaft, enjoying the way he softened and twitched inside of her.

His grip finally loosened in her hair, his fingers gently massaging her scalp where the sting of his dominance was just beginning to burn, stroking her gently until she sighed and let his length slip from her mouth, her head falling forward to rest against his thigh.

“There's a good girl,” he purred, hooking the waistband of his sweats and dragging them back up to cover himself as he lifted her back to her feet. “Come on then, we've a lovely dinner to prepare for your parents – and then once they're gone, maybe I'll let you have your dessert.”  

/

“That salmon was delicious, Killian,” Mary Margaret gushed, leaning back in the chair and resting her hand against her chest. “I'm better with non-seafood dishes, so it was lovely to have something different for a change – and after the week we had, it was so nice to have a night off from cooking entirely.”

“I agree – fantastic meal, Hook. Thanks for having us over tonight, it was nice to get an evening for just the four of us,” David added, rising to bring his plate to the sink.  

“I'm pleased you both enjoyed it,” Killian returned politely. “We didn't often get salmon aboard the Jolly, so it's not something I make often – Emma and I had quite the experience at the grocery store trying to find everything we needed, but the outcome was quite worth it, I think.”

“Dad, sit. I got it,” Emma managed to choke out, shooting just the most recent of many dirty looks over her parents' heads at her husband. She gently pushed David back into the chair and took his plate, snatching Killian's as well and dumping them into the sink.

“You're a little hoarse, you sound like you could use some tea, Emma,” Mary Margaret worried, swiveling in her seat to look at her daughter. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just a little bit of a sore throat, that's all,” she smiled, looking anywhere but at her husband's grin as she rinsed her hands and dried them off.

“That came on fast,” David mused. “You sounded fine this morning at the station. I hope you didn't pick it up from us, Neal had a bit of a rough week and we were wondering if he might be a little sick.”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, mate – it doesn't seem to be contagious. I've no signs of it myself,” Hook assured them both, smiling warmly and gesturing toward the dessert Emma was carrying over from the counter. “Can we tempt you with some dessert? It's fresh baked from town.”

“Oh, what kind is that?” Snow beamed, admiring the flaky, golden crust as Emma rested the pie on the table and moved to grab plates – anything to avoid looking her parents in the face. “It's always so nice to enjoy something you didn't have to bake yourself.”

“Peach pie,” Killian smiled widely, his eyes flashing to Emma as he ran his tongue across his teeth, “it just so happens to be my favorite, and I think Emma even whipped up some fresh cream to go on top, didn't you, Swan?”

Thankfully, no one other than Killian noticed as she nearly dropped the stack of plates, her body tensing and eyes widening as she silently begged him not to say anything else – her thoughts already far too consumed with how wet and empty she'd felt since their illicit moment in the alley. Taking a deep breath, she reclaimed her composure, tenuous though it was, and returned to the table.

“I did,” she admitted, laying out the plates and frowning when Hook stilled her hand with his own, pushing away the plate she was offering him.

“None for me, love – I find I'm feeling quite full. Perhaps I'll enjoy mine later, you'll just have to make sure you save some of that cream for me.”

END

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[metelis-favorite]

am i so bad? (that you hate me?)

Summary: Zane found himself at the outskirts of his family for most of his life. Maybe this time, they'd break away with him. Word count: 2796 Warnings: Transphobia, Islamophobia, misgendering, reference and results of past emotional abuse to children, discussion of weight in a negative tone Author’s Notes: This was not planned to be the first installment of the streamer au!! In fact, it has little to do with the fact that they are streamers at all.  This was written as a vent fic and turned into something a tad nicer than that.  Give me a comment or kudos on Ao3!

“Hey, mom.”  Zianna burst through the kitchen entrance as Zane closed the door behind him.

“Oh, Zuzu!” she exclaimed running over to wrap him in a hug, nearly lifting him off the ground.  He withheld the urge to wince and hesitantly wrapped his arms around his mother, patting her back awkwardly.  She set him back firmly on the ground but rocked them back and forth and something in Zane’s chest sunk as he felt something wet soaking into his sweater.  “Oh, Zuzu, you never visit anymore.” She pulled back, clutching his arms.  “Though it seems like you’ve been feeding yourself just fine!”  Zane smiled shakily, but he felt it coming out more of a grimace.

“You should see Garroth,” he tried to joke, “pretty sure being a father made him gain a few.”  Immediately Zianna’s face dropped into a disapproving pout and she tightened her grip on Zane’s arms.

“That is not funny, Zuzu,” she scolded. “Your brother is working as hard as he can for that little boy.”  Zane scowled.

“Malachi isn’t a boy, mother.”  Zianna elected to ignore him, giving his arms a punctuating (and painful) squeeze before letting go.  She walked back towards the kitchen and Zane felt five years old all over again, trailing after his mother in hopes she would pay attention to him. “So…” he started awkwardly, clearing his throat, “how’s dad doing? He’s at work today, right?” Zianna nodded excitedly, opening a packet of deli meat.

“Oh, yes! He and Garroth have been working on a brand-new acquisition for the company and it’s just taking up so much time.” She turned to smile at her son. “But you know how much your father loves his work.   It’s such a charming quality in a man to see him so dedicated.” A distant memory of a tenth birthday without his father flashed through his head.  He shoved it down.  He could bitch about it later to his therapist.

“Yeah, that’s- that’s cool.  Good for him.”  Zane leaned against the entrance to the kitchen. He waited for a second, the air between the two of them stale and tense.  Zianna kept smiling, placing pieces of ham into sandwiches. “What are you- uh, what are you making?”

“Oh! Well, you know Gar-Gar and his son are coming by as well, right? I’m making some sandwiches for him!” Zane winced, his lips curling into a scowl.

“Mother, Malachi isn’t a boy, we’ve been over this.” Zianna just waved him off.

“Oh, kids are kids, Zuzu, he doesn’t know anything yet.”  Zane’s shoulders hunched up and he subconsciously rubbed his sweater where he knew his top surgery scars lay underneath. Speaking of which, he needed to make a deposit to Vylad and Garroth’s accounts today.  It should be one of the last payments before he’s not in debt anymore.

“That’s not-” Zane started, his voice small. He shook his head and cut himself off.  It wasn’t worth it. “Malachi doesn’t eat ham, either, mom.” That made Zianna stop mid-second, a piece of ham in her hand.

“What do you mean?” Zane shrugged his shoulders.

“Malachi is Muslim, mom, Garroth told you about this.  They don’t eat pig meat.”  Zianna scoffed, but he could see the shake in her hands.

“Well, that’s just silly,” she said, her voice rising in pitch.  Zane swallowed nervously.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts.  “Why doesn’t he just follow Irene?”

“Uh- because they don’t have to?” Zane said.  “They’re not forced to follow whatever religion Garroth follows, mom, they were religious before they met Garroth.” Zianna shook her head rapidly before Zane even finished his sentence, closing her fist around the meat in her hand.

“No, but- Why wouldn’t Garroth have Malachi convert?” The question made Zane’s stomach flip a few times.  The spot where the cross on his chain necklace would have rested on his collarbone burned.

“Because he’s not an ass, mother,” Zane said, his voice taking on a sharper tone. “Malachi doesn’t have to do anything they don’t want to and Garroth certainly isn’t going to force his child to join a religion that they don’t believe in.”  Zianna made a noise and Zane could see her shoulders tensing. The room went quiet for a moment before Zianna opened her fist, letting the ham drop onto the counter.  She stalked over to the opposite side of the kitchen, ripping a trash bag from the container.  She walked back to the counter where the sandwiches and in one movement, she swept the sandwiches, chips, and packages of deli meat into the bag.  Zane flinched at the sound of the food hitting the bottom of the bag.

“Well, I guess I did all of that work for nothing!” She said, her voice squeaky and shaking with barely-contained anger. “Gratitude means nothing anymore, apparently.” Zane leaned forward onto the balls of his feet, ready to make it to the front door in less than five seconds if his mother decided to move his way. He didn’t say anything.

She tied up the bag, dropping into the garbage bin he knew was underneath the sink cabinet.  Zianna brushed her hands off and then propped them onto her hips.  Zane stayed silent.  She turned towards him, her breath shaky and her smile as false as the Louboutin heels he saw by the door. “Well, dear?” she prompted. “How’s work been?”

The change in topic made Zane’s head spin but he was pretty sure this was the only time she would ever ask him about his job and any chance to escape her fury was latched onto with both hands. “It’s- uh, it’s been good,” he said, his voice stumbling. “Subs have been going up at a pretty steady rate and if it- uh- keeps up for a few more months, I might be able to move into a better apartment.” Zianna nodded but he could tell she wasn’t absorbing anything he said. “Aph would move with me, I think.”  That caught her attention.  She squealed.

“Oh, you’re still dating Aphmau? Oh, that is so amazing!” Zianna giggled. “I can’t wait to be a mother-in-law.” Zane blinked a few times.

“You are a mother-in-law,” Zane reminded. “Garroth is married, you do know that, right?” Zianna’s smile seemed to turn cold and Zane beat himself up for even saying anything. “Besides!” he rushed to push past his mistake, “Aph and I aren’t dating or anything, she’s just a good roommate.” Zianna just shook her head, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“Oh, but I’m sure you’ll end up dating soon! That Aphmau has always had a thing for you, you know.” She winked dramatically and Zane wrinkled his nose on instinct.

“…Sure, mom,” he said at last, not willing to get into another argument with her.  Zianna wiggled in her space.

The sound of a car pulling into the gravel driveway broke the tense atmosphere that was starting to build up and Zane’s shoulders untensed.

Garroth and his relationship was difficult.  His relationship with Vylad was even more so.  But one good thing that came out of them both being adults and living away from their parents was the chance to finally say shit to each other and not have their parents constantly scolding them (read: Zane) for starting a fight.  There were nights were they just screamed at each other, mourning the childhoods they never got.  Zane better knew the pressure shoved onto Garroth and while a part of him would always feel like his brother was ungrateful for the opportunities he was given as a child, Zane didn’t know if he wouldn’t react in that same way in Garroth’s position.

In a similar vein, he finally got the apology he had been craving for so many years.  They were both on the ground, drunk out of their minds, and Garroth just erupted into sobs, saying that every day he woke up with guilt eating away at him.  That he knew what an awful brother he had been and that he was so sure that whatever relationship they might’ve had was crushed because of his arrogance.

Zane wasn’t faultless and he knew that their relationship as kids could’ve gone a lot smoother had he not gone out of his way to antagonize his family.  But the feeling of relief when his big brother arrived at their childhood home, instead of dread or jealously, wasn’t something he’d trade for anything.

Zianna bustled over to the door, pulling it open and waving to Garroth, who was assumedly getting out of his car and unbuckling Malachi.  Zane followed her, standing behind her with his hands still shoved firmly into his pockets.  He saw Malachi practically bounce out of the car, ignoring Garroth’s call to slow down as they ran up the steps to the door.  Zianna opened her arms and knelt down for a hug, but Malachi bolted past her to attach themself to Zane’s legs.  “Hi, Uncle Zane!” they exclaimed.  Zane blinked a few times, before patting his nibling gently on the head. They cocked their head to the side. “Is it a no-touch day? Dad says sometimes you have no-touch days.”  Zianna moved to open her mouth, having risen from her knees, but Zane cut her off.

“It’s alright, kid,” he said gruffly, resisting the urge to smile as Malachi tightened their grip around his knees. “You want- You want up?” Immediately, Malachi’s face nearly split in half from the grin they bore and they unlocked their hands to reach up towards Zane’s face, making a grabby motion.  Zane bent down slightly, grabbing the kid underneath the armpits and lifting.  A muscle in his back twinged, but he shifted his weight onto his legs and pulled himself and Malachi up the rest of the way.  The eight-year-old wrapped their arms around Zane’s neck, resting their head on his shoulder, and Zane swallowed harshly, trying to keep down tears from welling in his eyes.  Zianna was practically glaring at them but she didn’t say anything as Garroth stepped into the home.

“Dad!” Malachi exclaimed, lifting their head up. “Hi!” Garroth laughed, reaching a hand out and Malachi reached their hand in return, giving each other a gentle squeeze.

“I just saw you, bud,” Garroth said, grinning. Malachi shrugged, tucking their head back under Zane’s chin.

“I know,” they said cheekily.

“Did you say hi to Ms. Zianna yet?” Garroth asked and Zane wrinkled his nose.  His brother shot him a ‘I know what you’re thinking and I’m thinking the same thing but I have to be a good influence on my kid’ look over Malachi’s shaking head.  “Can you say hello please?”

Malachi looked over to Zianna and she waved softly. “Hey, sweetie!”

“Hi,” they mumbled, shoving their face into Zane’s hoodie.  Zianna’s face dropped into a disapproving scowl, but Garroth stepped in, his nerves showing all over his face.

“I think Malachi is just a bit shy today,” he said, his voice bordering on shaking. “They’ve had a long day.”  Zianna harrumphed slightly, crossing her arms, and if Zane weren’t focused on not pissing off his mother and not dropping his nibling, he might’ve laughed at his six-foot-three brother cowering in front of his five-foot-four mother.

He thought of his own five-foot-eleven height and the scene of him hunched over while his mother threw the sandwiches away and dismissed the thought of laughing entirely.  Malachi tightened their grip around his neck and he adjusted his grip so that they were pressed closer to his chest. “I see Malachi plenty,” Zianna complained. “Why won’t he give me a hug?!” Malachi made a noise and Garroth looked pained.

“Mother,” his brother said gently, “we’ve been over this.”  Zianna shook her head.

“Honey, I’m the mother to one of those kinds of people, I know how this works.”  Zane inhaled sharply.  Garroth gave a full body wince.

“Can we not have this conversation in front of them, please?” Garroth pleaded, his voice small.  Zane maneuvered Malachi to one side, slipping his hand into his basketball shorts to pull out his phone.   His mother shot back something, but he was too busy sending off a text to Laurance.

 2:58 P.M.

Outlawed in-law: SOS.  Mom’s saying shit.

Gar’s boytoy: :thumbsup:

  Judging from the kid trying to – affectionately – choke him, it wasn’t good.  Looking at Garroth, who was looking at their mother like he wanted to cry, Zane made the executive decision to back away and make his way to the stairs leading up to his old room. “Wher’we goin’? Malachi said, their voice muffled by their face being mushed into his hoodie.

“We,” Zane said, hefting the child further up his hip, “are gonna go check out your dad’s old room.” Malachi perked up, lifting their head.

“Daddy lived here?” Zane nodded.

“So did me and Vylad.”

“Avie Vylad?” Zane nodded again, stepping up the last stair and walking towards the back of the hall.

“The very same.”  Zane stopped in front of a door still decorated in medals and stickers of achievement.  He expected to feel some sting at the blatant representation of everything younger Zane resented but he found nothing there.  Blinking slightly, he reached out for the knob and pushed the door open.

The walls were bare – Garroth had taken down most of his posters when he moved out for college – but his old bedspread and desk were still there.  “Is this where daddy grew up?”

“Yep.”

“Where were you?”

“I was the room to the left.”

“With all the black stickers with bad words?” Zane snorted.

“Yep.” Malachi wiggled, unlatching their hands from behind Zane’s neck.  He bent over slightly, letting Malachi slip from his arms and land on the floor. “Your dad and I had some pretty different ideas on what constituted good décor.” Malachi peeked into the closet while Zane sat on the bed.

“Oh, woahh, there are some boxes in here!” they said excitedly.

“Yeah, your dad left some stuff here when he moved out.  I think he’s forgotten about it to be honest.” Malachi turned around, giving Zane a quizzical look.

“How could he forget his stuff?”  Zane shrugged.

“We had a lot of stuff as kids.”  Malachi looked down at the ground, their tiny brow furrowed.  They grabbed at the green scarf-slash-shawl wrapped around their shoulders.

“I have a lot of stuff now,” they said after a few moments. “I guess that makes sense.”  Zane scooted back on the bed, so his back could rest against the wall.  “Were you n’ dad friends?” Zane furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard papa saying something once about you n’ dad not being friends but you guys seem like friends so I wanted to ask.”  Zane blinked a few times, not sure how to respond.  Two decades of pain and anger and betrayal seemed to flash before his eyes and he wasn’t quite sure how to explain that to his eight-year-old nibling.

“I guess…” he started, “I guess you could say we weren’t friends when we were your age.” Malachi frowned and moved over to the bed to sit next to Zane.

“But are you guys friends now?”  Zane moved to rest his hand on Malachi’s head.

“I think we are, yeah.  We did some mean shi- stuff to each other when we were kids because we were angry at other people and took it out on each other.  But we’ve talked about it now.  We’ve said sorry.”  Zane patted Malachi once before resting his hand in his lap. “If you wanna know more, you should ask your dad.  Not all of this story is mine to tell.”  Malachi got a confused look on their face, but something must’ve clicked because their expression relaxed.

A knock sounded from the door.  Both Malachi and Zane looked up to find Garroth there, a soft smile on his face.  Zane squinted and saw the tired look in his eyes, the dark eye bags of nightmares that Zane saw mirrored on his own face near constantly seemed to have been amplified by whatever conversation he had with their mother.

“Papa called, bud, we gotta head back to the house.”  Malachi pouted, crossing their arms.

“I don’t wanna go,” they whined. “I wanna stay with Uncle Zane.” It took a second for Zane to process the statement, but before he could start sputtering nervously, Garroth just laughed.

“Uncle Zane can come with us, if he wants.” Zane gave Garroth a look and his brother shrugged good-naturedly.  Malachi wiggled and looked up Zane excitedly.

“Please?” they said and Zane was surprised by the earnestness in their voice.

“Sure,” he said, surprised once again by the fact that he actually did want to go with them, “I’ll come with.”

[peanut-butter-parkerxx]

non-navigational maps

y/n's new to the giant busy crowds of new york so she wanted to ask someone for help

pairing: peter x fem!reader

status: strangerz

Warning: shy reader (idk if this is a warning but just in case)

y/n's POV

new york sure is loud, like really really loud. but thankfully i found a park or something so i can relax a bit and really look at my map. i couldnt understand a thing. seriously how do people use a thousand subways just to get to one place?

after a few minutes i gave up and tried to ask someone for help which isn't very fun for me considering i barely talk to strangers...too shy for all of that but my familly will murder me if i wasnt home by 6 and most importantly im STARVING. hmm lets see, a mom and her toddler? nah shes probably busy as it is trying to stop her little boys tantrum, the old man in the bench infront of me? yeah why not- nope his ice cream just spilled on his shirt poor thing. i wanted to help him out but someone already did, a boy i think wait no he looks older maybe my age?  i dont know, i can only see his back, his hair looked cute though soft, brown, light, did I mention soft?- ok y/n stop it.

"Damn it!" The old man cursed "should've gon for the vanilla" he shook his head, I laughed his comment, he 'should've' gotten vanilla coz his t-shirt was white and it wouldn't stain that much *laughing* ugh so wholesome

I heard another voice, a much younger voice. I looked up from my god damn map to meet the back of the boy who's helping the guy out, laughing at what he said. His laugh is cute too

"But chocolate tastes better sir, I think you made a great choice" he wiped the excess now I know chocolate ice cream off the old mans shirt

"I always make the right choices kid, the names Stan" the once grumbled old man, smiled just from an act of kindness by a boy my age, he held his hand for him to shake

"Peter, Peter Parker sir" he shook his hand and smiled he said something to Stan which made him laugh. I giggled from their interaction just happy from what I've witnessed. for some reason I find guys my age helping others attractive it really shows me how good of a person this guy is, it makes me feel like not all boys my age are bad, I don't know hopefully I'll see him soon

*A/N: YES IM PUTTING A STAN LEE CAMEO IN HERE, if you didn't ask...The old guy I'm talking abt is Stan lee ;)*

After looking at my map a billion more times to try and not talk to people I gave up again and kept looking around, since there wasn't anyone else in this side of the park I decided to walk, if I'm staying for a while might as well get some exercise am I right?

I walked for a few minutes until I found a group of benches again so I looked for someone unoccupied, not sketchy, and hopefully is in a good mood, till i found a beautiful woman probably in her 40s or something ( but she looked amazing though)

she seemed nice as well, she just had that vibe to her so i decided to ask her, yayy can you feel the sarcasm?? I'm TERRIFIED

she was sitting on the bench, lifting her glasses every once in a while to read the book she had in her hand. i slowly walked up to her, nervous. what should i tell her? that im new to the area and if i couldnt find a Mcdonalds soon ill turn into the next hulk? the nerves seemend to fade away once we we locked eyes, she had brown welcoming eyes, a smile ill probably never forget plastered on her face.

"hello sweetie, what can i do for you?" her voice was like honey sweet, and calming as well.

"oh uhm sorry to bother you but i- i am kinda lost and i-i cant find a burger place kind near the are-" i was a stuttering mess! But thankfully i got interrupted from humiliating myself...by the- who is this guy? Oh wait! That's the guy that helped the old man! Peter? Yeah Peter, Peter Parker

"sorry i took a while aunt may, theres this old guy named stan, he spilled his ice cream all over his shirt so i decided to help him and i bought him a new one! should we go..." the boy trailed off, he looked cute not gonna lie, he had the same features as the woman infront of me, brown eyes, soft brown hair, and a kind spirit definitely. "s-sorry was i interrupting something?" he rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed

"no its okay peter, this lovely lady right here is just lost would you be a doll and help her? im bad at maps as it is" she laughed pointing at me. the second he looked at me blood rushed to my cheeks, he really was cute. i gave him a small wave and a barely audible 'hi' but luckily he picked it up and replied with a 'hey'

"i-im"

"Peter, yeah I know. Kinda heard saw helping the guy out. That's really sweet of you...what you did" I blushed "a-a-anyways I'm y/n" I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans to take the sweat off quickly before he shook them.

"Uh nice to meet you too?" he fiddled with his hands his smile growing bigger with every second he looked at me "y-you needed help?" He asked blushing and also eyeing may like he's frustrated from her or something, I laughed at his face and opened the map in my hands

"Uhm, well i-I'm supposed to go to the 21st street 3rd Avenue or somethig by 6 coz my parents will kill me if I was late since were new here, but I think there's enough time to go find some burger place or something since I'm starving and there should be a Macdonalds around the corner right? Oh my god I'm so sorry I'm rambling...I do that a lot when I'm frustrated.....and hungry haha" I nervously laughed mentally kicking myself for being such an idiot to a boy I potentially liked

"Oh no no, I don't mind. So uh you live in queens?" He started off smiling a bit, I was scared for a second since i didn't tell him about that part how would he know that?

"Oh uhm, I'm from queens and the 21st street 3rd Avenue is in queens" he probably got nervous since he saw my slightly frightened face, but it softened once I knew that he wasn't a creepy stalker or some shit

"Y-yeah yeah queens, sorry" why the the fuck am I apologizing?

"No it's fine, you don't need to worry. You probably couldn't find the 21st because you held the map upside down?" he chuckled flipping the map and I just died in embarrassment like can the floor eat me or something?

"I'm such an idiot oh my god" I face palmed and laughed a little the world has something against me I am sure of it

"No you're not, you're new to the busy subways and noisy streets it's fine" he assured me and continued on chuckling, can this day get any worse? "well ironically there isn't a burger place near this area" well great "but t-theres this deli sandwich shop that I always g-go to, uhm I don't know if you'd like that but it's uh really good" he squeaked red swarming to his cheeks and the tip of his ears

"He can show you, if you want? Since you're new and everything he'll be happy to help" the woman buts in smirking, turns out she's been listening to our conversation than reading her book. She sent Peter a wink and packed her stuff

"But what about the library may, you said you wante-"

"It's ok Peter, just come home before 7 and be safe!" She patted his shoulder and gave me a smile. It all happened so fast but I smiled back. Guess I'm gonna go eat with a handsome stranger?

"Well uhm sorry about my aunt" he cleared his throat "wanna g-go grab a sandwich? It's like 10 minutes away and uh we have like" he checked his watch " 3 hours before it turns 6 so plenty of time..." he trailed off, I could either decline and not explore with a cute boy and get lost again? Or risk it and potentially get kidnapped....yeah the answer is pretty obvious

"..uhm yeah sure, let's go" I ushered him taking the map and stuffing it in my bag "well, after you"

I'm thinking of doing a part 2 idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

Have a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening/night!

-quacksonlover

[shyneanon]

And the fic I started about a week ago with a MF one-shot continues! It’s now called The Boss’s Daughter and it’s up on AO3. 

I’ll continue to post it here but you can go to AO3 to subscribe or kudos or comment or whatever you’d like. It also just might be easier for people to read the whole thing there, since these chapters are long and the whole work will be in one place. Anyway, enjoy!

---

Your father was an unforgiving man.

As kind as he was to you and your mother, when he went to work, he became a different person. He did not tolerate failure, he did not tolerate deceit, and he did not tolerate disrespect. It was no wonder that he had become one of the richest and most powerful mob bosses in the city. People feared him.

And thus, they feared you.

He called you Princess for a reason. You were very much his princess. And there was no mobster in the city who didn’t know the consequences of making a wrong move around you. If he saw a man as a threat against his daughter-- whether physically, emotionally, or otherwise-- that man was as good as dead. And your father’s definition of a threat was a bit loose. He was a very jealous man. Every gangster knew that.

Well, Sans hadn’t, until Papyrus had gone on a tirade about it at him.

Truth be told, it hadn’t really scared Sans much at all. It was difficult to scare him-- though whether that was because he was tough or stupid, he wasn’t sure. Though it did make him view your encounter through a new lens. When he’d spoken with you, he’d had no idea you were such… forbidden fruit.

Unfortunately for Papyrus, whose… suggestion… was reasonable, telling Sans that you were a literal danger to him had only made you more desirable to him. It was that thrill that causes even the best of people to date partners who are bad for them: The feeling of playing with fire, of doing something despite knowing it was bad for you. You were so pretty, and you had been so much fun, but if he’d known all of this before, the spark of electricity he’d felt at being close to you would’ve felt like a thousand-volt shock. To think that he had held someone virtually unattainable-- had gone so far as to kiss your neck and the corner of your lips-- and come out of it alive?

Hell, now he just wanted to do it again.

Since he had nothing better to do with his time (well, he did, he just liked not doing what he was supposed to be doing), he’d eventually asked some of his men how much anyone even knew about you, if you were so heavily protected. Surprisingly, quite a bit, because your father liked to talk about you a lot. According to him, you were very intelligent. That didn’t surprise Sans at all, it had been pretty obvious. Well, sort of. It had been this look behind your eyes. Like you were always observing things, assessing them. No doubt you were unused to being hit on and yet you had remained cool and collected.

Heh. Maybe you’d make for a good mob boss yourself.

Your father even claimed that you helped with the business sometimes. The record-keeping and number-crunching, anyway. He didn’t like telling you exactly what your beloved daddy was doing during business hours.

It was funny how many small details had stuck with Sans’ men (and probably many others). You were just such an enigma that any information your father threw out was like a piece of a very large puzzle. You liked dancing, although you’d never actually been out dancing before. Papa was too worried about boys hitting on you. You did go out sometimes, with some friend of yours, but only during the day, and only to high-end spaces where the chances of a guy trying to put moves on you were low. An odd detail: You liked little chocolates, particularly the ones with cherry filling. Sans could vividly picture you gently biting into one, the filling as red as those soft lips. Dangerous lips that spelled death for anyone who dared to come near them.

You were just so off-limits that all you did was rile Sans up when he thought about you.

His mind raced with What ifs. What if he had just taken the opportunity to kiss you right there? What if you had agreed to his offer to show you how he could get around without being seen? What if he had been able to bring you somewhere private… and take away that innocence your father had worked so painstakingly hard to preserve?

Heheh. You would’ve been calling out “Daddy,” but you wouldn’t have meant--

“I heard that guy Acerbi is after her.”

“Acerbi? Don Acerbi?”

“No, you idiot, his son.”

Sans was snapped out of his incredibly racy daydream. “Huh? Who?”

Vinnie answered his question. “Adolfo Acerbi, Boss. The Acerbi family’s territory is right around--”

“I don’t care about that, whaddaya mean he’s after her?”

Don answered that. “Y’know, he wants to marry her. She’s an only child, so if he married ‘er, once her dad croaked he’d end up being the heir to their whole business.”

“Fuck, you serious?”

“Yeah. And for now it’d unite the families ‘n such. All that mafia stuff.”

Sans felt a surge of jealousy, even though he knew it was unwarranted. You didn’t belong to him-- well, you didn’t belong to anyone, you were your own person, even if your father wanted you to be his. Still, Sans wasn’t your boyfriend, he had no real right to feel jealous over you. Especially not the level of jealousy he was feeling right now.

But the objective truth couldn’t change the way he felt.

“Hey, Boss,” said Vinnie. “Didn’tcha say you were gonna talk with someone today?”

He was startled out of his thoughts again and checked his watch. “Oh, shit.” He got up. At least he wouldn’t be late. “Thanks, Vinnie.”

“Oh, uh, no problem, Boss.”

--

“Was he nice?” asked Mindy.

“Of course,” you told her. “He was in front of my dad.”

The two of you were sitting in a small but very expensive cafe and deli, immaculately clean and filled with people in nice dress. It was always nice to be with her, for a multitude of reasons. Firstly, she was your friend. You simply enjoyed her company.

Secondly, the cat monster was your window to the outside world.

While she was wealthy-- most monsters were after having left the Underground-- Mindy didn’t know where your father actually got his money. She was a civilian. Unlike you, she’d gone to college, and she’d been on dates with lots of boys. Ironically, despite being a monster, she knew a certain kind of freedom you’d never known. Mindy actually got around quite a bit, though you didn’t mind that. It was part of what made her interesting. She was wild, so she had a lot of fun stories.

At the moment, though, you were the one telling her a story, about the “nice young man” you’d met at the party. Adolfo Acerbi. Italian, obviously. Your parents had taken quite a liking to him, and you could understand why: He seemed well-educated, he was polite, and he had only said the sweetest of things to you.

You hated him already.

It was all fake. You could tell. He did a good job of hiding it from your parents but it was fairly obvious to you what was going on. You had no brothers. If he could just weasel his way into your father’s favor and wed you, then he could sit atop an empire made of two families’ blood, greed and arrogance. And you would be stuck right there with him. It was a no from you, but unlike Mindy, you didn’t really have any say in the matter. Mafia princesses were called princesses for a reason.

But you couldn’t tell Mindy all of that. She didn’t know where your family got their money. So all you said was, “He just wants my dad’s money.”

“Aw, honey, maybe you’re just being paranoid.” Mindy smiled at you. “Love exists, you know.”

You snorted. “I know that. It’s just… he’s sweet, but… too sweet? Too romantic.”

“Mmm, like he rehearsed it or something?”

“Yeah.”

“Ugh, those boys are the worst.” She shrugged. “Oh well. You don’t have to date him if you don’t want to.”

If only.

You considered telling her about the encounter with Sans and Papyrus-- she’d be bound to find it entertaining-- but you had the feeling that if you did she would just keep teasing you about Sans. Besides, she didn’t need to know anything about mobsters who didn’t really have anything to do with you. Your father didn’t do business with the skeleton brothers, as far as you knew, and chances were you would never speak with them again. Sans wasn’t worth mentioning.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and no sooner had you dismissed any thoughts of Sans than a large shape emerged in your periphery. Near the doorway. The shape was unmistakable.

Sans had been fun. Too fun. As much as you wanted someone in the underbelly of society to make you smile, you didn’t need it. If you had fun, you would forget just how bad your world was, and you would quit wanting to leave. You didn’t need to speak to him any more.

“What are you doing?” asked Mindy.

You realized you had ducked down and held up your menu in hopes of hiding your face. You wanted to relax, but you really didn’t need to talk to him anymore. “Nothing,” you said, though you knew she wouldn’t believe you.

“Oh my God, is it him?” She started to look around unabashedly.

“N-- no, it’s not Acerbi.”

“Not Acerbi-- Wait, is there somebody else? Is that why you don’t like Acerbi?” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oooooh, there’s a boy you haven’t told me about.”

“No, it’s not like that!” you said. But you couldn’t explain, it had everything to do with your world, and she couldn’t know about your world.

“Oh my, are you blushing?”

“What? No.” Your face didn’t even feel warm.

“Don’t lie to me, I can see it. Your face is so red.”

Well, now your face was warm. Mindy beamed. Thanks a lot, Mindy.

“Hey there, dollface. Fancy seein’ you here.”

… Fuck.

You lowered the menu. You didn’t have to look for him; Sans’ shape on your left blocked out everything else nearby. You tried to ignore the burning on your face and smiled politely. “Hello, Mr. Sans.”

“Hey, sweetheart, I toldja last night, ya can call me Sans.”

You saw Mindy’s eyes widen. Last night, no she’s getting the wrong impression, no no Mindy it’s not like that I didn’t have sex with him I didn’t I don’t even know how we would do that I just met him at a party--

You forced your mind to stop racing. “Right. Sans. Is there anything you need?”

“Just to talk to you, doll.” He winked. His smile was so genuine, so goofy despite the sharp teeth. You felt the corners of your mouth turning up and bit the insides of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling any more. You’re just making this worse, jackass….

His voice lowered:

“What’s with the red face? Happy to see me?”

You tried to ignore your face getting hotter. “M… My friend here was embarrassing me about something.” Good, a distraction. You gestured to Mindy. “Um, Sans, this is my good friend Mindy. Mindy, this is Sans, my… um…”

Sans raised a brow. “Aww. Tellin’ me we ain’t friends?”

Oh my God, did he learn anything from last night?

“... friend,” you finished. “My friend, Sans.”

Mindy wasn’t buying it even though it was the truth. “Oh, of course. Your friend.” She wiggled her eyebrows. Still, she gave Sans a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” His grin widened. “You look like the cat’s pajamas.” A wink. “Absolutely purrfect.”

Before you could stop yourself, you snorted, which only made Sans look more enthusiastic. You tried to hide your face again.

Mindy raised her eyebrows at him. “Oh my, aren’t you a charmer?”

He tipped the brim of his hat. “Sure, to the women I want.” His eyelights looked over at you and he winked.

You glared at him, openly this time. You are such a moron. You could literally die. For doing this. You couldn’t defend him forever.

His smile became slightly nervous. Finally, he was getting the message. Why did he have to be so thick? And funny?

“So,” said Mindy, “why are you here? You’re not stalking my friend, are you? Stalking isn’t romantic, you know.”

He chuckled. “Nah. I can’t actually talk fer too long, I’m here tah meet a, uh… business associate.”

Mindy smiled incredulously. “Business associate? What are you, part of the mob?”

You forced yourself to snicker at that, as if the idea was ridiculous. Sans blinked, looking mildly surprised-- he’d probably expected Mindy to know. Thankfully, he recovered quickly. “I wish. It’d be more exciting.” He turned back to you. “I also wanted to give you an offer.”

He nodded in the direction of the doorway and you squinted at him. You weren’t going to leave with him. Was he that stupid?

“I jus’ wanna talk over there.”

You raised an eyebrow, and felt your thumb fiddling with your menu. You didn’t need to speak with him… but you were curious. So you got up and followed him, still inside, by the door.

He dug around in his pocket. “Last night was nice.”

“Which part?” you asked coldly.

“All of it, babe, yer fun to talk to.” He pulled out his wallet and started going through it. “I was thinkin’ I’d like to talk to ya again, if ya ever want.”

He found what he was looking for and held up what was clearly a fake business card for whatever civilian job he claimed to have. He held it out to you.

“If ya ever need anythin’... like, y’know, company… jus’ give me or Paps a call, huh?” He shrugged. “Well, maybe not Paps. But me.” He flashed those shark-like teeth at you.

You just stared. What on Earth was his problem? He could easily go flirt with someone whose father wouldn’t have him shot for it.

“C’mon, babe, you were fun. I don’t meet a lotta fun people.” He held it out further. “Please?”

His pleading smile was seemed so genuine.

Whatever. You smiled politely, taking the card. “Thanks. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

Judging from the look on his face, he could tell you didn’t mean it. He seemed… disappointed.

You felt disappointed too. Good.

He tipped the brim of his hat again. “Anyway, I’ll let you two ladies keep talking. It was nice seein’ you again.”

“Nice seeing you,” you said.

When you made your way back to the table and sat down, Mindy folded her arms. “So. Mister Sans, huh?”

“It’s not like that,” you said.

“‘Sure, to the women I want,’” she said, doing her best impression of Sans’ deep, smooth voice. She then raised her eyebrows at you as if daring you to offer an explanation.

“We met at the same party where I met Adolfo,” you said. “He flirted with me, and I turned him down.” You left out the part where you let him hold you and… kiss you. The spot at the corner of your lip that he’d kissed suddenly felt tingly. It had probably been the most rebellious thing you’d ever done, despite how much you hated the lifestyle you’d been born into.

“You what?” Mindy said, almost slamming her hands down on the table in outrage. “Why?”

“Because I don’t like him. He’s probably the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”

“Ouch,” she said. “Harsh.”  She sighed in mock disappointment. “What a shame. His name is so short. Easy to moan.”

You felt a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “Why don’t you just go sleep with him if you find him so appealing?”

“Nuh-uh. I smell a budding romance.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “An intelligent girl, wooed by an unlikely man. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“That will never happen in a million--”

“Ooh, ooh, before I forget to tell you! Next weekend this… club I know…” She gave you a wink. You knew what that meant-- a speakeasy. “... is having a swing night. You told me you’ve never gone dancing before. We should go!”

You felt your heart sink, the previous conversation instantly forgotten. You shook your head. “My parents wouldn’t let me.” Too many boys.

“Then sneak out. Easy fix.”

“N… No.”

She sighed in exasperation. “Just ask, OK? Please?”

You nodded. “... OK.”

“Thank you.” She looked at the card in your hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just some stupid card he gave me with his number.” You turned it over in your hand.

“Mmmm, his number. You gonna keep it?”

“I already said I don’t like him, why would I keep his number?”

You grabbed your purse. Trying not to make eye contact with Mindy, you tilted the bag towards you so that she wouldn’t see the small pistol inside, and tucked the card into a pocket inside the purse. You tried to seem nonchalant about it, but when you looked at Mindy again she was wearing a massive, smug grin on her face.

“I’m going to throw it away when I get home,” you told her.

“Riiiight.” She took a sip of her water. “Of course.”

“I am,” you insisted. You just didn’t want to toss it anywhere. But you told yourself you were going to throw it away.

You didn’t.

[softspideys]

Fruit Lover (Tom Holland x reader)

summary: you’re working as a cashier at the local grocery store. tom is a stranger who keeps giving you fruit.

warnings: none

word count: 2.6k

pairings: tom holland x reader

a/n: this is the first thing I’ve written in quite a while and I really am happy with it! just some cute, tooth-rotting fluff, I hope you enjoy:)

Being a cashier at the grocery store wasn’t exactly how you thought you’d be spending your summer. But you were home from college with nothing to do, and money was money.

Aside from dealing with impatient old people or bratty, screaming kids, the job wasn’t really that bad either. And, to make things better, your usual register was right next to your best friend Zendaya’s. When either of you had crazy long lines or were being berated by someone for not scanning their expired coupon, you could just glance up and find her already looking over her shoulder at you, rolling her eyes.

You were unlucky enough to be working the closing shift one Saturday night. It was 10pm, meaning the place was basically empty. You’d been standing at your register for hours by now and your feet were killing you. Despite the air conditioning in the store, the humidity outside still managed to find its way in.

You’d found a pen on the counter and were mindlessly doodling on the palm of your hand when someone in front of you cleared their throat. You jumped, looking up, and immediately thought oh.

The guy standing in front of you was about your age, and he was cute. He was wearing a white t-shirt and black mesh shorts, a baseball cap pulled over his head. You liked the way his dark hair curled over his ears and the bottom of the hat.

“Sorry,” you said guiltily, putting the pen down and starting to scan his items. “I, um, didn’t see you.”

“S’okay,” he said with a smile. “You looked like you were concentrating pretty hard. What were you drawing?”

“Oh, nothing. Just, uh . . .” You weren’t sure why, but you held up your hand so he could see the flowers you’d drawn on your palm before realizing how stupid that was. You swallowed and quickly resumed your scanning.

“Nice,” he said, to your surprise. “You’re lucky; I’m a terrible artist. No one ever wants me on their Pictionary team.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you just nodded. “You must like fruit,” you commented, motioning to his groceries: a hand of bananas, some strawberries, a mango, and two kiwis. Oh, and some bread and milk.

He laughed and you felt your face get hot. Why did a cute boy have the power to turn you into a flustered, nervous mess?

“I guess you could say that,” he said. “But doesn’t everyone?”

You shrugged as you began bagging everything. “Sure. I mean, I don’t really like bananas, but mangoes and strawberries are good. I’ve never had a kiwi though.”

“Hmm,” he said, almost thoughtfully. He didn’t say anything else, and you’d never been good at keeping the conversation going with customers anyway, so you didn’t either.

After he paid, you handed him the receipt and pushed his bag towards him. “Have a good night,” you said, already starting to replay the conversation in your head and cursing your awkwardness.

Instead of answering, he reached into the bag, pulled out one of his kiwis, and offered it to you. “Here,” he said. “For you.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You said you’d never had a kiwi before,” he said, nodding at it. “So here. Try it.”

“I—I can’t,” you stammered, although you weren’t actually sure if that was true. There was a rule that employees couldn’t accept tips from customers, but you’d never heard anything against fruit.

“Sure you can,” he said. “It’s already been paid for. Just take it.”

Hesitantly, you accepted. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. If I can convert just one person into being a kiwi-lover, then my work here is done.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

He grinned back, shouldering the bag and starting towards the exit. “No problem. See you around.”

You were still smiling when Zendaya approached your register, plopping a bottle of chocolate milk and a magazine on the belt. “Now that was interesting,” she said.

“He gave me a kiwi,” you said, marveling at it. She rolled her eyes.

“I wish hot customers would come to my lane and give me stuff. Well, there was that one guy who tried to give me a lock of his hair, but I guess that’s not the same thing.”

“I’ve never seen him around here before,” you said, carefully placing the fruit on your counter. “I wonder why he picked me?”

“He probably thought you were cute, duh,” Zendaya said.

You immediately shook your head. “No way. He probably just thought it would be funny. I doubt I’ll ever see him again anyway.”

* * *

A week later, you found yourself working the same shift. All of your other friends were out partying while you were bored out of your mind on a Saturday night. Even Zendaya had taken the night off. She’d tried to convince you to do the same, but you knew you really could use the money. Besides, a small part of you was hoping you’d see the fruit boy again.

You’d worked afternoons during the week and he hadn’t come back, as far as you could tell. You were just beginning to think you were right about never seeing him again when the doors slid open and he walked in.

Heart pounding, you craned your neck and watched as he went into the produce section. He disappeared past your line of vision after that, so you had no choice but to stand and wait.

Quit being stupid, you told yourself. He might not even come to your register. He probably gives fruit to everyone who checks him out.

You forced yourself not to look for him, or even look up, until a familiar voice said, “Hello.”

And there he was, smiling at you and looking soft in a gray hoodie. “Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. “How are you?”

“Good, thanks. Working the late shift again?”

“Yeah,” you said. You didn’t say anything else, concentrating on scanning his groceries, before you added, “I usually work late on Saturdays and Sundays, and afternoons during the week.”

“Gotcha,” he said casually, but he was still smiling.

“More fruit?” you asked quickly, nodding to the items you were currently bagging.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “You ever tried a papaya?”

“I can’t say I have.”

“What’d you think of the kiwi?”

You grinned at the memory. “It was really good. I had it with my breakfast the next morning.”

“Good.” He paid for his groceries and, like last time, reached into the bag and pulled out a fruit. “Here. Papaya next.”

This time you didn’t hesitate, reaching out and taking it from him. “Thanks,” you said, feeling your smile grow wider.

He returned it, and you noticed he had brown eyes. “Sure,” he said, already starting for the door. “Have a good night.”

And that was how it started. Over the next few weeks, you found yourself being gifted with not flowers or jewelry, but fruits. He came during the afternoon a few times, but as the store was usually busier then and there was less time to talk, he mostly stuck to late Saturday nights.

He always went to your register, even if you had a long line and Zendaya had no customers at all. He also made a point to give you fruits you’d never tried before. Some of them you’d heard of, like pomegranates, figs, and guavas, while others you didn’t even know were sold in the store, like jackfruit and kumquats.

You liked pretty much all of the fruits he’d given you so far, but your favorite was the figs, only because that was when you learned his name.

“It just seems unfair that you know mine and I don’t know yours,” you’d said as you handed him his receipt. “I call you ‘Fruit Guy’ in my head.”

He’d laughed, reaching into the bag and pulling out a fig to place on your counter. “I’ve had worse nicknames.”

He’d started to walk towards the exit, and you thought he was going to leave without telling you. But then he’d turned and smiled at you. “It’s Tom.”

Tom.

Zendaya insisted Tom had a crush on you—why else would he come to your register and give you fruits?

Even though the thought of it made your palms sweaty, you knew she was probably right. You also knew that you didn’t want Tom to lose interest in you, or worse: think that you didn’t like him too. You had to act soon.

So, you waited until you were working the next Saturday night. Four hours of your shift had already gone by, and you’d been a nervous wreck throughout all of it. Where was he?

Finally, the doors slid open and you saw Tom walk in. You watched as he went towards the deli, disappearing from your line of vision. You didn’t know how long it would take him to do his shopping, but all of a sudden it felt like you couldn’t wait any longer.

After a few more agonizing minutes, you finally thought fuck it. You placed a “CLOSED” sign on your belt and turned the light above your register off before going after him.

You wandered up and down the aisles before you found him at the very end of the store in the frozen food section. He had the door to one of the freezers open and appeared to be deep in thought, staring at the ice cream. He didn’t even notice you approaching.

“Hi,” you said. 

“Oh, hi.” Tom blinked at you before he grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your legs before.” 

You forced yourself to not look down at them. “Oh. Yeah. There they are.”

“There they are,” he agreed. “What’s up?”

You took a deep breath. “I was just thinking that this whole time, you’ve been giving me stuff, and I never got you anything in return.”

His smile faded. “I don’t want anything in return. That’s not—that isn’t why I’ve been doing that.”

“No, I know,” you said quickly. “I just thought—well, I thought I’d give you these.” You reached into the pocket of your apron and pulled out—

“Dates?” Tom said, taking them from you and looking very confused.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m giving you dates, and also asking you out on one.” 

Tom stared at the bag and then back at you. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Just when you thought maybe you had the wrong idea about all of this, he surged forward and kissed you.

It was like all of your senses had been kicked into overdrive and you were feeling everything at once. His hands were cool from being by the freezers for so long. His eyelashes tickled as they brushed your cheeks. His lips were a little chapped, but soft, moving gently against yours. 

“Oh,” you said when you finally broke apart. “Wow.”

He was grinning from ear to ear. “Dates. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. That’s genius, honestly.”

You smiled back, a little shyly. “Thanks.”

“I would really like to go out with you,” he said. “It’s probably time I got your number, right? So I don’t have to keep stalking you at your job?”

You exchanged numbers and he asked, “So, when are you free?”

“Well, I’m probably about to be fired for leaving my register without permission,” you said, only half-joking. “So really, anytime.”

He laughed. “Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow, then? I can cook. Kind of. We can have a picnic somewhere.” 

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “I’ll even bring dessert. How do you feel about fruit salad?”

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 5 - Good Weather Day

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

Previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life, series of drabbles/one shots,

a/n: i know it took me such a long time to update this. I even contemplated on just leaving this like this but no, i’ll have to see this till the end. Even i, myself need closure. Anyhow, to anyone who have stumbled upon this I hope you like it.

Word count: 1,700

“Hey.. you run?” he commented as soon as he saw you on your tracksuit and running shoes standing in the living room.

“Yeah… i do.” He looks at you all puzzled. As you make your way to the kitchen and gulped half a liter of water in seconds.

“You just dont get up so early in the morning, my friend. I run and I haven’t run in days and I can’t think—so I have to run.” You continue to babble and looking a far while holding your water mid air “it’s like my head’s all cloudy and the sunlight just wont stream in. And I can’t think….”

He made his infamous tight lipped smile and said, “what are you being so poetic for so early in the morning?” he drank his water and continued to gaze at you.

You let out a small laugh in your own non sense.

“I dont know either. Anyhoo, why are you up…” you paused to eye him from head to toe “and ready to go out? At 7 am in the morning…. who are you?” Not believing your eyes that this, in fact is the man you’ve been living with for months now. He’s not a morning person and you respect that about him.

“I have a schedule to meet with this new artist, for her debut and this is the only time she has and her agency said she really wanted me. So here i am.” You nodded and found an opening to tease him. “Oh, she wants you… wink wink.”

Completely ignoring you like always, he finished his glass of water and grab his keys and turned back on you.

“Arent you going to run?”

“Yeah let’s go.”

Before locking the door behind you, he asked “You sure you have everything?”

Checking your pockets to see, “Yes.”

“Cash? Phone?”

“Check, check!”

“You sure you’re didnt forget anything?”

“Yoongi please.” You irritably answered.

He smiled and locked the door to your apartment. Walking together towards the stairs when you said,

“Thanks for fixing the light bulb by the way… last week.” Gaze fixed he just nodded.

“Are you okay btw?” Surprised by the question, you didnt even realized you both are already at the ground floor and in front of his car. You looked at him puzzled.

“Yeah i’m okay, why won’t i be?” Still looking at you when he pressed on the keys for his car to open.

“Nothing. I’ll go ahead.” He said and be on his way. You waved him bye with a smile and walked away with your airpods on.

Running is the thing you do, when your mind’s all clouded and you can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong either. You ran around the block and into the nearby park. And by the end of it, you were just honestly walking and admiring the view. Thinking to yourself what a good weather day this day is.

Hoping it’ll actually be a decent day indeed.

You went home after a long meeting with a colleague about this new book she’s planning, and asked if you would consider doing the illustrations for her. Of course, you felt flattered and told her you’ll probably need some time to think about it. She respected it of course, and asked you to take your time.

You sneaked in quietly into the living room, and found a girl drinking in her coffee and watching the tv and Yoongi standing by the sofa and watching it intently with her.

Standing behind him, you tapped his shoulder gently and said, “Hi….” Smiling sheepishly.

He smiled at you and you immediately said, “I don’t want to disturb, I’ll just go to my room.”

Before you can even escape, he grabbed your wrist and said, “No, come on. I want you to meet Hyuna.”

The girl, so feminine and soft greeted you with her eye smile and friendly face. You felt almost embarrassed, he doesn’t really have to introduce you. “Hi, I work with Yoongi.” She extended her hand and you shook it embarrassingly and said, “well, i’m…” looking over to Yoongi as you paused, “I’m his roommate.”

You have no idea what are you so shy about, it’s not the first time you’ve met one of his friends. Casually at the same restaurant before, you bumped into each other and he introduced you to Jin and Hoseok. It was fun and casual, but this one felt a little different. You’ve never seen him bring a friend home before and if he did then you probably weren’t home to actually meet them unlike this time.

After the introductions and small talks about the program they were watching and the fact that you were already dying to just go to your room, that is unfortunately across the hall. You opened your mouth to say something, only to close it again. And then after a second you said, “I better get going—to my room.” You wave goodbye to Hyuna, “It’s nice meeting you, Hyuna.”

And before you can move again.

“Why don’t you have dinner with us? I’m cooking.” Yoongi suddenly offered.

‘Well that sounds like a date,’ you thought to yourself. You immediately declined and in sudden panic you said, “No, no, no, no… I don’t want to interrupt. And I… I actually have plans, dinner—with Haneul today. So yeah—I better go get changed.” You hurriedly walked to your room before Yoongi can say anything again.

And as soon you got into your room, you sighed the greatest relief. And wondered why in the world would Yoongi even invite you just to be polite?! It already feels like a date and there seemed like something going on between the two of them. You dont like being caught in the middle of anything that’s why you have developed the habit of lying fast just to get yourself out of situations you don’t like.

And this one is just one of those moments, obviously. So no, you don’t have dinner plans with Haneul. Your original plan for tonight is to actually sleep, but you already said that you’d be out and apparently changing clothes also so that you have to do. With a heavy heart, you’ve changed your clothes after an hour of thinking more ways that you could probably get out of this, and despite that you left the room in defeat.

You went to see both of them in the kitchen, looking at Yoongi’s back as he cooks and her telling him some stories and holding a beer beside him.

‘Aww they already looked like a couple.’ You thought to yourself.

You stopped in the kitchen and quickly told them you’d be going ahead.

And ahead you go, out of the apartment and the sun has just set and you feel really tired after the day you just had. You do have your car keys with you but you decided not to go far instead. So you walked, just a couple of blocks away—your favorite deli just opened a new restaurant beside it and you’ve been meaning to try their food so you thought maybe today’s the day.

You went inside the restaurant, cozy and thankfully enough not that crowded still. You sat by the window, brought out your notebook and ordered yourself a bottle of wine and some oysters. There’s nothing to celebrate but wine is always a good idea. ‘Maybe you can celebrate Yoongi’s love life,’ you thought and that kind of made you smile.

Dinner’s done and as you were just finishing your bottle of wine, and wondering whether to get another one. You thought you saw someone familiar outside, the street’s quite small and the street light’s just adequate. You’re not sure.

You saw this guy, has a black cap on and his back facing you—180 cm in height so familiar and yet so different. He’s with a girl. He opened the door to the passenger’s side of his car, hand covering her head lightly as he guides her inside, gentlemanly. He hurriedly went to the driver’s seat and then the car left.

You laughed to yourself, sipping in your last wine.

‘It can’t be Joon, he doesn’t drive.’ You shake your head to shake those crazy thoughts away and finished your meal and got your bill.

After dinner you stopped by the deli to get some of your favourite sausages and some cheese. Eventually buying ice cream as well to topped off your day. Walked around the neighbourhood for a couple more times before eventually walking back to your place. Thinking to yourself, that you’ve probably given them enough time to themselves and by this time you can just eventually say, ‘It’s late, i’ll probably just turn in’ in case—they would politely ask you for anything.

Bag of groceries in your wrists, hand inside the pocket of your hoodie and ice cream on the other. You went inside your apartment only to find it quiet and empty. Yoongi with his glasses on just sitting in the sofa watching tv.

“Hi” You raised your hands with ice cream to greet him and eventually sat on the sofa.

“What happened to your… date?” Eyes fixed on the tv and still eating your ice cream as you asked.

“It’s not a date.” Yoongi replied

‘Yeah right’ you thought. But you just eventually shrugged your shoulders as a reply.

“Do you have more of that?” Yoongi asked.

Eyes still fixed on the tv, you reached for the other ice cream in your bag and give it to him without even looking.

“I know you like this flavor.”

“It’s okay. I just eat it because you keep buying them.” You turned your head towards him with a confused look.

“Then what do you like then?”

“Nothing in particular, Vanilla’s fine.” Opening up his own ice cream and eyes still fixed at the tv.

You turned your head back, nodding.

You both sat in silence eating some cookies and cream ice cream while watching Batman Begins.

mood board sr: x x

[babbushka]

Each Eye (7/8)

Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Reader

5.8k ; Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Blood, Gore, Murder

                                                  ------------

The tea you had chosen was a five course, three hour affair. You had figured that would be plenty of time to charm and chat, to catch up and gossip like normal people do. It was what everyone around you was doing, at the very least.

The Turkish afternoon set was very charming, and reminded you of all the wonderful memories you had with Kylo, going abroad to the gorgeous vacation home in Turkey that he owned. He had properties all over the world, but that was definitely one of your favorites, and it made the afternoon much more enjoyable.

The tea itself was brought out in a golden camel teapot, which you thought was only a little tacky, in that way that overly luxurious places tended to be. In addition to the tea though, there was a rosewater lemonade that was brought out with the first course.

Since it was only the first, the portions were small, but you didn’t care too much. You knew you’d be full by the end of it. Dried fruits and nuts decorated a golden tray, and you were careful to clean your teeth of the dried apricots and figs when you asked,

“NYU or Columbia?”

Rey hadn’t been expecting that question, clearly, if the way she coughed around the sweet walnuts was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, soothing her throat with some of the tea, the Dunes de Sahara that she was currently on her second cup of.

“Tax law, isn’t it? Are you at NYU or Columbia?” You clarified, really wondering if there would ever be an instance that she would just use her own context clues so you wouldn’t have to go repeating yourself all the time.

“Oh, Columbia.” She replied, dabbing her mouth with the linen cloth and reaching for the dried dates.

“You have a full schedule, I’m assuming.” You nodded, and she sighed.

“Yes. It’s very, pardon my pun, taxing.” Rey chuckled slightly at her own joke. If you weren’t so suspicious of her, then you might’ve laughed too. “I’m enrolled in the maximum amount of classes, currently. Although the drop period hasn’t passed yet, so I might lighten the load a little, depending.”

There was no way you could envision her dropping a class normally – you knew how she had been in high school when you both attended together. You saw how she took on more classes than anyone else, more after-school extracurriculars, more clubs.

Her dropping a class was only more reason to believe that she was doing something, something that was going to cause another schism in the family, something that was going to start another war – and you had proof.

You only needed her to admit it.

“Well then I am extra glad that this worked out. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your studies for too long, but it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together.” You commented.

“I don’t think I’ve actually ever spent time with you like this.” Rey said quietly, “The two of us alone, I mean.”

You both knew why, you knew. It wasn’t hard to guess, what with the way she had gone after her brother, what with the way she was so hell bent on killing him, that night so many years ago.

You took a sip of your tea, and smiled falsely at the waiter when they removed the golden tray of the first course, and replaced it with the second.

On top of a crystal dish were filo puff pastries filled with lamb and feta cheese, pistachio finger-cakes, and crackers with dates.

“Kylo’s very protective, isn’t he. When I went to Columbia he enrolled in all the same classes just to put himself at ease.” You said, reaching for one of the pastries, placing it on your pretty plate and using the polished silverware to cut into it.

“You’re an alumnus?” Rey’s hand froze as she reached for her own pastry, and you smiled.

“Of course, didn’t you know?” You asked, paying her body language no visible mind, “Spent quite a lot of time in Arthur W. Diamond.”

“Me too, there and the library.” Rey said, and you did glance up at her then.

“That is the library.” You blinked, watching.

She knew, you could tell she knew, that she was fucked.

You only were trying to prove a point. She knew that too.

“Oh, yeah, right, that’s what I meant.” She said unconvincingly, busying herself with the pastry, cutting it into many pieces of exactly the same size and shape, a nervous habit.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go back and get a secondary degree, maybe another masters, I don’t know. Is Professor Carmichael still there? I loved taking classes that professor taught, we became good friends.” You asked, luring her into a trap.

“He is! I see him in the hallways sometimes.” Rey nodded enthusiastically, “I’ll ask and see if he remembers you.”

Professor Carmichael died two years ago, you and Kylo had gone to the funeral.

But she didn’t need to know that.

“That would be wonderful! You could ask after you visit the deli.” You said, pleased with yourself for this little segue.

 Rey’s hands went deathly still.  

 She was frozen for some time, you only watching her, only taking in her posture and the way her pulse jumped in her throat. You wondered what it must be like, to be prey.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Rey blinked, and oh how funny it was, to watch her immediately tense up.

To watch her lie.

“Don’t you frequent the Hamilton deli, on Amsterdam Avenue?” You asked, picking up your phone which had been resting on the table.

Her eyes zeroed in on the phone, and you could tell she was suspicious, could tell she was already thinking that you were using it to record her. She didn’t need to know that Kylo’s phone was safely tucked away in your purse, microphone facing her through the thin fabric.

“No, I’ve never been there before.” She lied.

You didn’t even need to use your years and years of observational skills to tell, didn’t even need to look at her to tell she was lying, because you were sifting through your screenshots in the cell phone gallery, looking for one piece of incriminating evidence.

“That’s funny because this is a reply text message from your cell phone number, to an unsaved number. It says, ’I'm busy that weekend. Let’s meet on Monday, our usual spot on Amsterdam.” You said, finally finding it, turning the phone screen to face her, “Or, am I mistaken?”

“How did you get that?” She asked, defensive. So defensive.

She knew she was fucked, why did she bother making this more difficult than it already needed to be?

“A little birdie sent it my way.” You replied.

It was easy to forget, you figured, that your family had connections with all the crooked cops in the city. It was easy to forget that there were people who sent in reports, people who made back alley deals, people who took bribes and offered them to the mob. Cops weren’t all squeaky clean and sunshine the way the mayor was painting them, the way some of these bootlickers were painting them.

No, they were just as slimy and grimy and corrupt as anyone else – maybe even more so.

 It was a cop who sent you that screenshot.

Which meant it was a cop that Rey had spoken to.  

 “So you do visit the deli.” You asked again, and this time, this time Rey had no choice but to play along, unless she was stupid.

She may have been a moron, but she wasn’t stupid.

“Yes.” Rey finally said, taking another big sip of her tea.

“Regularly.” You said, no longer a question.

“What’s this about?” Rey’s eyes narrowed, that squirrely fear of her giving way to the frustration of being caught.

You shrugged, putting the phone away, tucking it into your pocket. Rey followed the movement carefully, and part of you wondered if she thought you were going to pull out a gun and kill her right there. You could, of course, but you wouldn’t. For what she had done, what she was doing, she was in for something far more gruesome.

Today was only a warning.

You took a sip of the lemonade.

“I wonder who you meet there.” You said, nonchalant.

“Just some friends.” Rey replied.

The waiter decided that that was the best time to come in and clear away the plates, to exchange the pretty crystal dish for a three-tiered tray of stirling silver.

This was the course you were most looking forward to, if you were being honest. The top tier of the tray held a sunflower fennel Turkish bagel, the second tray had chicken pastilla, and a fun variety of dips, and the bottom tray had an assortment of things to go with the bagel. You immediately went straight for the apricot saffron jam, and watched as Rey tried her best to keep her hands from shaking as she served herself some baba ghanoush.  

“It must be very good food, or they must be very good friends, for you to regularly take time out of your very full schedule.” You said.

“It’s not so busy.” She replied, and you raised a brow.

“You just said you’re taking the maximum amount of classes.” You challenged, and she blinked rapidly, trying to backtrack.

“I meant it’s not so busy right now, at this point in the semester.” She lied, “We help each other study.”

“I didn’t think someone so bright would need help studying.” You mused, taking a crisp crunchy bite out of the pastilla.

Rey must have been at her tipping point, because her jaw was clenched and her fists were tight on the silverware she held. You had a fleeting thought that she would lunge at you from across the table, the knife in her hand particularly tense.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” She hissed instead, and you raised an eyebrow.

“What am I implying?” You asked, which she didn’t seem to appreciate too much.

“That I’m cavorting with people.” She tried to keep her voice down as to not draw attention to herself, although her temper and that firey sprit that always reminded you so much of her late grandfather, wanted otherwise.

“Are you?” You asked evenly, hoping she’ll just get over with it and fess up.

“No.” She lied instead, and you cocked your head.

“Then why was that your first impulse I wonder?” You hummed, taking a sip of the tea.

“I’m used to people accusing me of things I didn’t do.” Rey said and you almost wanted to laugh out loud.

“Who’s throwing out accusations?” You said instead, your own attitude starting to become a little snippy, starting to become a little more sharp around the edges. “I just think it’s interesting that you make such an effort to meet your new friends. You don’t even take the time to properly control your slice of the city which you so desperately want to keep. I wonder if Gwen knows.”

“Why should she?” Rey scoffed, making you shrug.

“Keeping secrets isn’t the best way to maintain a healthy relationship.” You said.

“No one in this family would know a healthy relationship if it bit them in the ass.” She countered.

That caught you off guard a little, and you did have to admit it was funny. You chuckled a bit into the teacup, careful not to let the short burst of air blow too much of the steam away.

“Probably not.” You replied, before once again repeating yourself, “So which is it?”

“What?” Rey asked, and part of you wanted to strangle her right then and there.

“Is the food good, or are the “friends” good?” You asked.

“The food’s pretty fucking good.” Rey admitted.

“I’ve only been there one time, do you know what I ordered?” You asked, smiling as you wiped the corner of your mouth, as you finished your Turkish bagel and cracked the joints in your neck, your knuckles.

“Do tell.” Rey said, sarcastically and through gritted teeth.

“The N.Y.P.D.” You said easily, so easily, watching as the color drained from her face.

It was an expression you had only seen on her once before.

                                                   ------------

You’re seething, eyes red-rimmed, blood staining your chin, your cheeks. Fury raged through you as you blinked away the hot stinging tears in your eyes, exhausted and overwhelmed and far too keyed up all at the same time.

You were hunting, hunting him down. On your way to rip him apart limb from limb, on your way to gouge out his eyes and yank his heart straight out of his throat.

Snoke.

The man who had ordered your beloved to kill his father, which he had done! Which he had done so well, so deservingly – it hadn’t been enough. Not enough for Snoke, not enough for him who lured him into a trap for his sister to strike him down. The wretched old man, the monster who had taken your Kylo away from you, who had warped and twisted him into a puppet who had to obey.

Well, he didn’t have to obey any longer, not anymore.

Kylo was passed out, blacked out in your bed. You had found him had saved him, had sewn the chasm of his face back together with ugly fucked up stitches because you didn’t know how to do any better, you didn’t know. You had never done anything like this before, had never even seen it done. Nothing but sheer force and willpower had pushed your fingers forward, nothing but blind determination and fear had given you any sense of calm.

Were you calm?

You left him in your bed, stole his keys, and were now flying down the roads. Adrenaline is pounding through your veins, blood in your ears as it rushes behind your temple. You’re speeding, your foot slammed on the gas pedal as you rip through the streets of some small Jersey city. The address in Kylo’s GPS, in Kylo’s car, was leading you to him, to the biggest, meanest boss on the East coast.

You didn’t have anything, nothing to fight him with, nothing to kill him with. But you’re too angry, too furious, too filled with rage to stop yourself from going after him.

You don’t even know how you get there, when the GPS concludes, when you’re slamming the brakes and parking the car, turning it off. You don’t know how long it took, don’t know where you are. All you know is that somewhere inside a shitty warehouse, dilapidated and crumbling, is the man who sent your Kylo to die.

On the wall of the warehouse, in the very first room you creep into, there’s an axe in a glass case. Without thinking, you punch through the glass, send it shattering, send the alarm ringing blaring screaming. The lights flash, and the siren is so loud, and you yank the axe out from the small case, hold it in your hands.

You’re deranged. You don’t know how many men you cut down, on your way to Snoke.

There were rumors about it, rumors of the massacre, the way you had taken on a team of people. All his guards came pouring in, swarming from the depths of the warehouse with their big guns and their poor aim. Maybe if Snoke hadn’t sent Kylo away, hadn’t betrayed him, then he’d still have his attack dogs.

Now he didn’t have anything at all.

It was that night, that you knew how Kylo felt. How he got so out of it, in a trance, when he killed. You had never felt like that before, had never heard the sick crunch of bone as the heavy blade of the axe swung through it, had never heard the screams of someone as their light faded from their eyes.

The screams were muffled by the alarms, the slip and slide of their blood illuminated by the flashing lights, but you didn’t care, you could hear see feel smell it anyway. You were in a frenzy, like a shark hunting for blood.

You were hungry for it, hungry for the death you inflicted.

They had hurt him, had lured him into a trap where his own death was the only outcome, where the dominos would tip and he would fall. They didn’t know he was alive, they didn’t know he was fighting the reaper tooth and nail underneath your expensive satin sheets in your childhood bedroom, they didn’t know he was going to make it.

They wouldn’t make it.

Your muscles are burning by the time you’ve cut them all down, chops of your axe to their limbs, their necks. You’ve been shot, you had to have been, there’s no way you haven’t been, with how many they were. But you can’t feel it, can’t feel if there’s a bullet lodged in you somewhere.

You can’t die yet, you reason. If you die, you’re taking Snoke with you.

You can’t die until you get to Snoke.

The warehouse is like a maze, one large and winding thing, metal walls and grey floors, lights that bounce around off the rusting shelves and grates. You open unlocked doors, kick down locked ones, try your best not to scream as you cry, as you sob. You can’t stop crying, fear gripping your chest, squeezing at your heart as you try try try every door you come across, axe bloody and dripping on the cement in your wake.

You think of him, of Kylo. Of the man you love so desperately. You had never told him, hadn’t told him before that night, before only an hour ago. You never were given the chance, this withered monster having stolen that from you.

You wonder how much else he stole, what else you could have had.

Because you have him now, Kylo. You have him. He cried in your arms when you picked him up off the street, out of the alley. He sobbed into your hair, not coherent or even really that conscious, dead weight in your grip as you dragged him through the streets, dragged him to your house.

It was just your name, on his lips, when you sewed him shut. Just your name, over and over again, pleading, hoping it was you who had rescued him. And it was, you told him again and again, it was you, you were there, there with him.

He kissed you, when you had healed him, when his face was bandaged up to the best of your ability, he kissed you.

That was your first kiss, and you can’t help but wonder, if Snoke hadn’t been around what your first kiss might have been. You’re praying it’s not your first kiss goodbye, praying that by the time you get back to him, he’ll be there to hold you the way he clung to you.

 You’re surprised to see her, when you make it to the right room, the red lights blaring, washing the whole warehouse in an altogether evil atmosphere of violence and rage. You don’t expect her, and you lunge, tackle her to the ground, pressing the bar of your axe up against her throat, choking her as blood and spit spatters onto her face from the force of your anger.

“I’ll kill you!” You scream at her, “I’ll fucking kill you for what you’ve done!”

Because it’s Rey, Rey who split your Kylo’s face in two, Rey who stabbed him in the shoulder, Rey who shot him in the stomach. She’s there, choking under the weight of your axe, body convulsing and eyes bloodshot and angry. You don’t know why, but she’s there.

Rey, his sister, his younger sister, your friend, your classmate, power hungry in her own right.

“(Y/N)!” Rey struggles, chokes, red in the face, blood on her face – or is it just the lights? You don’t know, you don’t care.

You’re too angry.

“Ah,” A voice cuts through the darkness, something chilling that dumps down your spine. “So this is the (Y/N) that I’ve heard so much about.”

You snap your head up, searching in the blinding pulsing light for where the fuck he is, where the monster is hiding. Suddenly it’s like you’ve been electrified, and you’re frantically abandoning Rey’s body from where he’s gasping out on the floor, stalking the room, trying to squint through the lights at him.

“Kylo’s told me so much about you.” The voice, deep and dark and vile, bounces around the walls.

“Show yourself!” You shout, your whole body trembling, shaking with rage.

“Why? So you can cut me to pieces like you did my guards? No, I don’t think so.” The voice laughs, laughs and laughs, coming from all around the room, all angles, all sides.

You spin in a slow circle, as you try to catch shadows on the walls.

“You sick son of a bitch I said show yourself!” You’re practically foaming at the mouth, panting, breath ragged as you gulp down air. You have a splitting headache, you’re still crying, bleeding from a wound in your leg, hands numb from the grip you keep on your weapon.

“Put down the axe, and I will.” Snoke says. You drop it without question – you don’t need the axe to kill him, you’ll find another way. You just need him to show himself.

He steps out of the shadows then, a crippled old thing. He’s so much older than you had thought, than you had ever anticipated. He must be nearing ninety, from the age in his skin, his sunken face, hollow eyes. He’s bald, hunched over and spindly.

You hate him.

“Good, good girl. At least one of you can follow orders.” He chuckles, and you want to be sick, want to kill him. You’re going to kill him.

“Is that why you tricked him? Because he wouldn’t blindly obey you anymore?” You sobbed, unable to even look at him, you’re so repulsed.

“My plans for Kylo were set in motion the first day I met him, he was always destined for this.” Snoke shook his head.

He rushes towards you and grabs you, a grip far too strong for the man’s age, as he pulls out a gun and presses it to your cheek. You can feel the cold bite of the metal digging into your skin, even through the warm crust of blood that’s dried on your face.

“He was a young frightened child and you killed him.” Despite this, you shake, so angry, so livid. You need to think, you need to figure out a way to get out of this hold he has you in.

“He’s dead?” Rey asks from her spot on the floor, not having moved one fucking inch from where you left her.

“No thanks to you.” You lie, you lie and you pray it is a lie, you plead that it’s a lie.

“Shut up!” Snoke says, the arm that was tight around your middle now grabbing your jaw, crushing your chin in his hand as he spits on the floor and grumbles, “You know, I really wish Kylo had never met you.”

“I could say the same.” You say, before taking your opportunity.

You bite down on his hand, hard. So hard that he shouts out in pain and releases you just enough that you can twist yourself out of his hold. You shove Snoke to the floor as you kick the gun out of his hand, the thing spiraling across the cement floor as his head cracks against it. He’s old, he’s fragile, and he doesn’t get up quickly, you’re glad to find as you scramble to find your axe.

Rey screams as you swing the blade down across his ankle, as you cleave through the bone there, chopping his feet off. Snoke screams in pain, a horrible, mangled sound, like he’s never been hurt before, like no one has ever dared to hurt him. He hunches over on the floor, his hands grasping for the stubborn end of his leg.

You swing the axe down again with a yell, a rage filled hysterical shout, hacking through his arms.

There is so much blood, so much that Rey is running away from it, climbing up onto a stack of metal grates to avoid it touching her, to avoid getting it all over her. You lose your footing in it, hands scrabbling against the cement, his blood hot and thick as it pours from his limbs.

You don’t stop until he’s nearly unrecognizable, until he’s completely mangled, chopped into little pieces. You had known, of course you had known that he was human underneath the evil veneer of sickly grey skin, but to see it all laid bare was something you hadn’t been expecting, for whatever reason.

He was nothing more than a pile of bones and organs, skin flayed out and drenched in blood.

You were covered in it, sprayed and drenched from head to toe in it, and only once you had severed the head from his neck, did you drop the axe, did you stumble over onto the ground, did you lay yourself down on the cement and stare up at the flashing lights.

“Is he really dead?” Rey asks, voice small, scared.

She’s watching you from the metal grates, and you sigh.

You’re both too young for this kind of shit, nineteen year old killers. Well, technically, Rey hasn’t killed anyone yet. But the effort counted enough, you think.

“No.” You croak out, voice hoarse from all the screaming, all the shouting.

You’ve got your eyes closed, arms and legs spread out like you’re making snow angels, starfished right there on the concrete. You hear Rey get down from the metal grate, your heavy breathing not doing anything to drown out the noise of her standing at your feet.

When you crack an eye open, it’s to her offering you a hand.

“He killed my father.” Rey says, and you sigh as you take it.

“I know.” You reply, pulling her into a hug. “Han was his father too.”

“We need to get you out of here, before the cops come.” She says after she lets herself sigh into the hug, after she lets herself cry a little into your shoulder. When she pulls away, she’s got Snoke’s blood on your cheek. “I don’t know how to shut off the alarm.”

You nod, making sure to take the axe with you. You can’t leave it behind, can’t abandon the murder weapon, not here. You’ll dump it over the side of a bridge or something, but you can’t leave it here.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask as Rey pulls your arm across her shoulder, giving you support.

You’re definitely shot, you can feel it in your leg, now that the adrenaline high is winding down, you wince and grit your teeth through the pain. Your family is going to freak the fuck out when they find out you’re going to the hospital, but they’ll understand, you’ll make them understand.

“I was going to kill Snoke too.” Rey says, glancing back at the mess of gore behind the both of you, before asking, “Are you going to kill me?”

“If he dies from what you did to him, yes.” You reply honestly.

“Why do you care so much about him?” She wonders aloud, a blood-spattered frown knitting her brows.

“I’m in love with him.” You reply easily, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever said, like killing an entire warehouse of people was no challenge for you.

Because it wasn’t, not if it was for your man, your Kylo.

Rey is silent as she helps you limp across the warehouse, as she corrals you into the back of Kylo’s car, as she drives you to the hospital and calls your family, who calls just about everyone else.

And when the whole fucking crime world shows up to check on you, to make sure you’re okay after the surgery to get that bullet out of your leg, when the paths clear and you see the familiar mop of black hair and the bandaged face of your best friend cutting through the crowd, you smile.

                                                   ------------

In the present, Rey put down her teacup. She had the decency to at least look offended, which you appreciated, even if you knew it was all bullshit.

“Excuse me?” She asked, whispered, unable to speak any louder otherwise she’d be screaming, she’d be shouting, like she was so wont do to.

“Roast beef, onions, hot peppers, bacon, American cheese, lettuce, tomato and BBQ Sauce.” You replied quickly and with a bit of a smirk, “It’s delicious.”

“You don’t touch pork.” Rey said.

“That makes one of us.” You shot back.

She closed her eyes then, rubbed them with the pads of her fingers, slumped back into the chair. You wondered how it felt to be such a traitor, to be such a liar. You couldn’t ever imagine.

“You know, (Y/N), I have to say.” Rey shook her head, licked across her teeth and regarded you with steely eyes, “Sometimes I wish Kylo had never met you.”

Of all the things you thought she would say, that really wasn’t one of them. You couldn’t say you were surprised, because you weren’t, not really, not given the situation. If you hadn’t met Kylo, who knows where she might be, how successful, how rich, how powerful.

If you hadn’t met Kylo, you wouldn’t have been there to save him that night, wouldn’t have been there to stop the war that was brewing, that had already begun. Maybe she would have won, if you hadn’t been there.

But you were there.

You can’t help but laugh, a little something just at her expense.

“What’s so fucking funny?” She demanded to know, and you really did think she was going to stab you then, with the way she was fuming.

“Nothing,” You made a show of wiping away a tear from your eye, made a show of getting your chuckles under control as you said, “You’re just not the first person to say that to me.”

“Oh?” Rey rolled her eyes, “And here I thought I was original.”

“So did Snoke.” Your smile dropped, and it felt like the whole world went quiet.

Rey’s eyes widened, and she snapped her jaw shut, staring out the window where the vision was still a marbled blurry mess.

“Do you remember? Remember what I did to him?” You asked softly, removing the napkin from your lap, folding it and placing it on the table. You knew there was one last course coming, some sort of ice cream, but you didn’t care.

You wanted to go home, you needed to plan.

“Yes.” Rey said, voice barely above a whisper, because she did – she was there.

“Remember how I spared you?” You asked, snapping your finger and drawing her attention so that she could look at you, so that you could look at her, really look at her.

“Yes.” Rey answered, terrified.

You were no longer all smiles, all warmth. You were no longer sunshine and charm as you had been, as you tried to always be. No, no now you were angry, now you were impatient, now you were offended. Your eyes were cold and hard when you regarded her, when you bore your gaze into hers as you leaned in ever so slightly, leaned in just enough to make her lean in too.

“I’m starting to regret that.” You whispered, before pulling away.

The waiter arrived then with the ice creams, and you returned to your normally cheerful disposition, checking your phone and collecting your belongings.

“Shit, would you look at the time!” You laughed breezily, apologetically to the waiter. “I need to get going, Kylo will be expecting me back home soon. You know how he gets if he’s away from me for too long.” You said to Rey, who was stunned.

“Of course.” She said, mind racing, pulse jumping.

The waiter nodded, handed the ice creams off to someone else passing by so they wouldn’t melt, no use in wasting them on people who wouldn’t eat it.

You eyed the little piece of newspaper that was still on the table, and picked it up.

“Oh, would you mind holding onto this for me? He doesn’t like it when I fill in the puzzle without him, gets all sour.” You winked, folding it up and handing it to Rey.

“Did you finish it?” Her voice shook as she accepted the paper.

“No, there’s one left, I was hoping you could solve it.” You smiled warmly, standing up and putting on your coat, “It’s got me stumped I’m afraid. Forty-two across.”

“Sure I can take a look.” Rey looked like she was in a daze, emotional whiplash making her dizzy.

“Thanks Rey.” You said, excusing yourself to the waiter. “I’ll see you soon.”

You left a few hundred dollars on the table, and made your way out of the tea room.

 You barely made it to the door when you heard a loud FUCK! and the shatter of crystal hitting the polished marble floor, sound of footsteps running, the murmur of nosy socialites wondering what the commotion was all about.

Without even so much as turning around, you smiled to yourself, as the doorman opened the glass doors and you stepped outside.

Your heels clicked on the pavement as you stepped up to the vehicle where Dopheld was holding open the door, a curious look on his face.

“Did you have a nice lunch, Mrs. Ren?” He asked, ever so cheerful and polite, friendly.

“Yes Dopheld, thank you.” You said, sitting in the back of the car and clicking your seatbelt into place. “It was very insightful.”

You reached into your purse and pulled out Kylo’s phone, paused and saved the recording so Kylo could listen in on it as soon as you got back home.

“I’ll bring you back then?” Dopheld asked, smiling at you through the rearview mirror.  

“Yes please, Kylo is going to follow us.” You pulled out a compact mirror and your lipstick from your purse, reapplied your favorite color since the brunch had rubbed some of it away.

“Yes ma’am.” Dopheld pulled onto the street and into the light traffic of the mid-afternoon.

You looked behind you and gave a little wave to your husband, who was in the car behind you. He lifted a palm for a moment before returning it to the wheel, a small wave of his own kind. Smiling, you turned back to face the front properly, and hummed to yourself.

“Oh, Dopheld?” You asked, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Anything, Mrs. Ren.” Your driver was always eager, jumping at the bit to help.

“Do you happen to know a three letter word for, ‘traitor?’” You asked, a coy smile spreading across your face, as his eyes widened in the rear-view mirror.

                                                 ------------

Taggin some palz! <3  @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee @riseofkylo @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker @mp938368 @hidingp @goodboybensolo @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @insanita @disaster-rose @hazydespair​ @yosoymuyloca​

[three-drink-amy]

All the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights

Two chapters left, people! Thanks for reading!

masterlist - AO3

Chapter Sixteen - I Wasn’t Jealous Before We Met

I walked into the office for the first time after the Tony nominations were announced. Expecting John to be all but dancing through the room, I was surprised to see him simply sitting there watching me, one eyebrow raised. He watched me as I sat my things down. “Something on your mind, John?” 

“I know your secret, Beauchamp.” 

My head whipped over in his direction. “Excuse me?” 

“About Jamie,” he added. 

I forced out a fake laugh. “Yes, because I told you about it. Months ago.” 

“No, I meant the fact that you’re together.” 

Slowly, I turned and looked over at him. “I’m sorry?” 

A large smile crossed his face. “Oh, I know. What I don’t know is how you’ve been keeping it a secret from me for such a damn long time.” 

I sat down in my chair, feeling a bit deflated. “How did you find out?” 

He wheeled his chair closer to my desk. “I called Jamie to congratulate him on his nomination and I could hear you yelling in the background.” My eyes squeezed shut. “Once I asked, he admitted it.” 

“Damn it.” 

“Why are you being so secretive? He said you’ve been together since the show opened. How the hell have you kept this secret this long?” 

“With a lot of hard work,” I said with a laugh. “What are you thinking?” 

“That I’m happy for you, but a bit sad you didn’t trust me with the information,” John replied, giving me a look. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Lamb only found out in March,” I tried. 

His eyes went wide. “No way. You kept it a secret from him for that long?” I shrugged. “Well, that does make me feel a bit better.” He gave me a serious look. “Are you guys happy?” 

I smiled to myself. “Yeah. Really happy.” 

John returned my smile. “Then I guess that’s all that matters. I mean, I’m going to give you shit for this for a while, but I’m happy for you two.” 

“Thank you,” I said, turning back to my desk. I don’t know how Jamie forgot to mention to me that he told John. I sent him a text about it, but I really didn’t care. It was nice to have someone else in on the secret. 

Around lunchtime, Jamie showed up, a bag of food in hand. It was an unexpected perk of John knowing our secret. We could be seen together in public. Well, the concealed public of my workspace, but still. John burst out laughing as he turned around to see Jamie. “Bringing your girlfriend lunch, huh?” 

Jamie grinned, holding up the bag. “I was, yes.” He grabbed a wrapped sandwich out of the bag and tossed it to John. “But don’t worry. I didn’t forget you.” 

John looked genuinely touched as he looked down at the sandwich in his hands. I tried my best to hold in a laugh at his expense. Jamie walked closer to my desk and sat down on the edge of it, handing me the lunch he’d brought me. It was my favorite soup from the deli. I smiled up at him, tilting my head up for a kiss. Jamie shot a glance at John before turning back to kiss me quickly. 

The three of us sat there and chatted as we ate our lunches. The nominations from the day before had been the bulk of our conversation topics. Jamie was finally free to share his real feelings about the nominations instead of brushing them off as he’d done up until the announcement. We couldn’t help but marvel as a group at his luck, though John and I of course claimed that we could have predicted it from the beginning. Jamie, humble as always, shook his head and disagreed with us. 

It was so pleasant to have Jamie there with us. I was silently dreading him having to leave. He’d only come to bring us lunch, but I would have been fine with him staying the rest of the day. I could feel the moment approaching when he was going to tell me he should leave. Just as he was turning to me, a knock sounded at the door. John and I looked to each other, both of us confused. Neither of us were expecting anyone today. 

“Come in,” John called. 

The door opened and my stomach sank. I stared at the man in front of me, realizing it had been months since I’d last thought of him. Probably since Jamie and I had gotten things settled between us. He flashed his thin, smug smile. Clearly, he knew none of us in the room wanted to see him. 

“Frank,” I said in a cold voice, “what are you doing here?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jamie stand up a bit straighter. He wanted to protect me but he didn’t know from what. 

“Can an old friend not come and offer congratulations on your luck this year?” he asked. 

“Friend seems like a strong word,” John retorted. “More than that, you don’t drop in on me and Claire without some greater motive.” 

“So pessimistic,” Frank chided. “I simply wanted to express my happiness for your success.” His eyes focused back on me and I felt his cold stare. My body tensed under his gaze. Jamie still leaned against my desk, as tense as I was. “Claire, congratulations. I know you must have been so excited.” 

“Aye, well we all were,” Jamie jumped in. “Our production was very fortunate.” 

Frank’s eyes turned to Jamie. He plastered on a polite face for him. “Jamie Fraser, right?” Jamie nodded. “I’ve seen your performance. Truly great.” 

“Thank you,” Jamie replied stiffly. 

“What brings you to see these two?” 

“Why does that matter?” John fired back. 

“Well, after the nominations, I wanted to express my thanks in person,” Jamie lied. “Is that so unheard of?” 

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Well, at least not when producers and directors work well with the cast.” 

Frank saw my comment for what it was. “I’d love to have a moment of your time, Claire.” He cut his eyes over to John, trying to tell him to leave his own office. 

“Fat chance,” John retorted. “Anything you need to say to Claire, I believe you could say in front of me and Jamie. Neither of us are leaving.” Frank looked annoyed. “More than that, you’ll find Claire isn’t going to work with you again. We have a contract that keeps us both protected in that way.” 

Frank sighed. He was clearly not used to people not bending to his will. I vaguely recalled that about him from the days when I’d spent more time with him. I was glad that I had backup for his sudden reappearance in my life. 

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to talk another time, Claire,” Frank replied. He bowed his head to us as he backed toward the door. “Congratulations on the nominations, friends.” 

John rolled his eyes and groaned loudly as the door closed behind Frank. “Friends. Good joke. What a prick.” 

“Who is he?” Jamie asked, looking between me and John. 

I was silent. John answered for me. “He’s another producer. And a gigantic prick.” 

Jamie clearly wanted to ask more, but stayed silent and nodded instead. “Well, I should head out too.” He bent down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you at home.” 

I nodded to him, able to manage a small smile. “Wait,” John said, shaking his head. “Home?” Jamie and I looked over at him. “Do you guys live together?” 

We both laughed. “Yes, actually we do,” I confessed. 

John gaped at us. “How the hell have you kept this all a secret?” 

“It’s all about keeping people from asking the right questions,” Jamie said. 

“Or dodging the correct answers when they do ask the right questions,” I added. Jamie nodded in agreement. 

John rolled his eyes at us. “Whatever. I guess I should feel flattered I’m part of the secret.” 

“That was purely an accident,” Jamie told him with a grimace. I laughed to myself at the look John shot Jamie. “Anyway, I should go. John, I’ll see you soon. Claire, I’ll see ye later.” 

“Bye,” I said, kissing him quickly before he walked out too. 

The rest of the day passed fairly simply and when I got home, Jamie had already left for the theater. I was a bit relieved, if I was being honest. Based on the look on Jamie’s face at my office, I knew he’d want to ask me more about Frank. And it wasn’t a story I really wanted to tell at the moment. It wasn’t necessarily on purpose that I was already in bed when Jamie got home. He didn’t strike up a conversation as he sometimes did. Instead, he just crawled in behind me and wrapped his arms around me. My body melted against his and I laid my hand over his. With him beside me, I finally started falling asleep. I could hear a contented sigh from him before I stopped processing anything else. 

With the nominations, I told Jamie I’d need to go into the office a bit more often. I wasn’t looking forward to missing the time we usually had together. Sitting in my office chair, I sighed as I hung up my phone. Yet another call asking about the show and our reaction to the nominations. Clearly, they had to know what our answers would be. John, thankfully, took the in person interviews when he saw how much I didn’t want to do them. The interviewers didn’t really want to talk to the producers, but they’d make do. 

I laid my head down on my desk, feeling a bit drained. The office was quiet with John off on an interview. Even when we didn’t talk, there was still ambient noise in the room. A knock at the door surprised me. I looked over just as the door swung open. Not even bothering to fight the groan escaping me, I glared at Frank. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I heard through the grapevine that John was doing interviews,” Frank remarked. “I thought it would be a good time to catch you.” 

“Frank, whatever you’re trying to pull, you should know, I’m never going to work with you again. Ever.” 

He didn’t look convinced. His face bore that same sly expression it always did. “Claire, let’s not be so hasty. We used to work well together.” 

“Yes, before I came to realize what an astounding arsehole you are.” I sat straighter in my chair, my arms crossed.

“I know John has poisoned your mind against me, and I can’t imagine why,” Frank said as he took a few steps closer to me. “But with our mutual successes, we’ll take your career further than Grey ever will.” 

“My career is doing just fine. I don’t know if you heard, but I was just nominated for a Tony. As was my show, my lead actor, my lead actress, and my supporting actor. And those are just to name a few. We got 10 nominations overall. I’m sorry, but does that sound like a struggling career?” I raised one brow challengingly. 

He was silent for a long moment, watching me. I did my best not to squirm under his gaze. Slowly, Frank walked closer toward me. My chair was as far back as it would go. I tensed as he got closer to me. Memories flashed in my mind and my hands clenched into fists in my lap. 

“Your career is doing well now because I gave you the start you so desperately needed,” Frank sneered. 

I scoffed. “I got the start I needed from Lamb.” 

“But who was the producer who gave the young new director a chance?” He gave me a look. “If you’ll recall, it was me.” 

“If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. You’re not special, Frank.” 

He stood right in front of my chair, towering over me. The man wasn’t giving up and I wasn’t giving in. “You remember the good times we used to have. I know you do. Just go to dinner with me. I’ll convince you to work with me again.” 

I rolled my eyes. There was no way I’d actually go to dinner with the bastard. “No.” 

“It’s one dinner. What, are you afraid you’ll cave too easily?” He leaned down, his face too close to mine. “Perhaps our work relationship won’t be the only thing that is struck back up.” 

My breath caught in my throat at the feeling of his breath against my face. It felt wrong. All of it felt wrong. I didn’t like that we were alone in the office. My eyes flickered to the door and I could have sworn I saw a flash of red. Looking back at Frank, I decided to do whatever I could to get him to leave. “Fine. One dinner and one dinner only.” 

His grin spread across his face almost maniacally. “Fantastic. How about Friday?” I shrugged in reply. “You know my favorite place. Let’s meet there.” I expected him to turn on his heel and leave, but of course, Frank had to make me more uncomfortable. He leaned down and slowly placed a kiss on my cheek. “Until Friday, Darling.” 

I sat impossibly still until he was away from me. On his way out the door, he was met by two people coming in. 

“What the fuck are you doing here again?” John demanded. Jamie stared Frank down as well. So I had seen him outside the door. 

“Just attending to some business,” Frank replied cooly. “I’m sure it’s nothing for you to be worried about Johnny.” He looked at Jamie. “Mr. Fraser, we meet again.” 

John caught my concerned glance. “He came to the interview with me,” John lied for the sake of our secret. 

“How did it go?” I asked. Frank was still paused in the door. 

“Wonderfully. They were so kind to us.” John looked over at Jamie. “Weren’t they, Jamie?” He nodded in reply, still staring down Frank. 

“That’s great,” I said. 

“Look, Claire and I have some work to get to, so maybe you should leave now, Frank,” John all but commanded. 

He watched John for a moment before turning back to me. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Claire.” 

I had no reply before he walked out the door. Slumping in my chair, I breathed out a sigh at his absence. John walked closer to my desk but Jamie stood by the door. “What was he doing here?” 

I shrugged. “Same thing as usual.” 

“He really can’t take no for an answer, can he?” John scoffed as he walked back to his desk. 

There was a silence that hung in the room. I was still disturbed by Frank’s appearance. John was fuming over by his desk. Jamie was lingering by the door and had yet to speak. 

Finally, he cleared his throat and pointed over his shoulder. “Claire, have ye seen the graffiti on the wall outside?” I frowned, but shook my head. “Ye should come take a look.” 

John gave him an odd look, but both of us could read the moment for what it was. Jamie wanted to talk to me privately. I wondered how long he’d been outside the office, waiting to come in, waiting for Frank to leave. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. 

We walked out into the relatively secluded alley. I started to ask Jamie what was going on, but I was interrupted by his lips crashing against mine. I stumbled a bit, grabbing onto him as my back landed against the alley wall. I didn’t know what exactly was spurring him on, but I didn’t really mind. I returned the kiss just as eagerly. His hands were at my hips, pushing my shirt up to slide beneath it. He pressed me further back against the wall. It wasn’t until he pulled my leg up to rest at his hip that I finally had the sense to pull back. 

“Jamie, stop,” I panted. “What is this?” 

His eyes met mine for a second before he closed them, his forehead resting against mine. “I’m sorry, Claire.” 

I laid my hand against his cheek and made him look at me. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m not saying I minded. I’m just confused.” 

Slowly, he brought his head up to meet my eyes. “I just …” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “I guess I got caught up in my emotions. I’m sorry.” 

“Jamie,” I said, urging him to tell me the truth. He was still silent. I could tell he was somewhat embarrassed. My arms wrapped around his waist. “How long ago did you get to the office?” 

This time when he looked at me, he actually held my gaze. “A bit before I actually walked in. At first I thought ye were just in a meeting, but then…” 

I sighed, remembering how close Frank had gotten to me. I could only imagine what it looked like from the outside. “Jamie, I promise you that was nothing. I didn’t want him there.” 

He nodded, looking back down again. “I ken. I just, well I suppose I got a bit jealous.” Jamie blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I ken it was stupid of me.” 

Standing up on my toes, I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not stupid, Jamie. It’s hard keeping everything a secret.” 

“It is. And even if it’s just a work meeting, I just got nervous hearing ye agree to go to dinner wi’ the man,” he admitted. 

My hand found his cheek again. “I was never going to go. I agreed to dinner to get him to leave, but I promise you, I never would have gone.” 

“Claire, if it’s for yer work, go. I’m no’ going to stop ye from working.” 

“I’m not working with him again. I was never going to go to that dinner. I just wanted him to go.” 

He nodded, leaning his forehead back against mine. “I’m still sorry.” 

I hugged him in reply. “It’s really okay. If you were wanting wall sex, that’s fine, the brick’s just a bit rough against my back. The walls at home would be better.” 

Jamie pulled back, looking at me with wide eyes and an amused grin. “Well, good to know.” He leaned back down and kissed me softly, stroking his hands through my hair. “I should go,” he finally said, pulling back from me. His demeanor had fallen again. I held onto his hand until he walked away. Taking a breath, I waited a moment before going back inside. 

John was sitting at his desk, reading something on his computer. He glanced over at me as I walked back in. “Please tell me you’re not actually going to humor Frank Randall.” 

“Of course not. I said whatever he wanted to hear so he would leave.” I sat at my desk, unable to do anything. Frankly, I was a bit worried about Jamie. He hadn’t been acting quite like himself, jealousy or not. Making up my mind, I stood up and grabbed my bag. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

John shot me an odd look. “You’re leaving?” 

I nodded as I paused by the door. “Jamie seemed off. I don’t know. I don’t want to leave it until tonight.” 

“You’re so lucky I know your secret now,” John teased. I opened my mouth to retort but he waved me off. “Go take care of Jamie. We got most everything done this morning.” 

“Thanks, John!” 

Jamie looked surprised to see me when I walked into the apartment. His brow furrowed in confusion as I sat my stuff down and plopped down in the chair next to him. “What are you doing here?” 

I stroked his cheek with my thumb. “I just thought I should be here instead of work.” He started to give me a look but I kissed him instead. “I hope you know, you have no reason to be jealous.” He looked away from me. “Jamie, I get it. You think I wasn’t at least a bit jealous of Laoghaire when we weren’t together?” 

That got his attention. “Ye had no need to be. I’ve never cared for her.” 

“No, I know. I’m saying, it’s easy to feel jealous. But I want you to know that there is no one else I’d rather be with or live with than you,” I promised him. “Especially not that fucking Frank Randall.” 

He nodded, grabbing my hand and holding it between his. “Logically, I knew I shouldna be jealous. I wasna even really sure what I was looking at. I just felt…” He cut off. “I just felt like I wanted to punch him and hold ye out of his reach.” 

I laughed, trying to picture that. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded.” 

“Ye and John really hate that man,” Jamie remarked. 

I took a deep breath, looking from him. He was owed an explanation, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to revisit that part of my life. “Well, John’s hatred of him is strictly professional.” 

Jamie tensed beside me slightly. “And yers?” 

“Well, it’s a bit of that,” I said, sighing afterward. “But it’s a bit of something else as well.” Finally, I looked back at him. Jamie’s face was blank, but I knew he was expecting me to say more. “Frank was the first producer to give me a chance at directing. He knew Lamb and I think knew what I could be capable of, somehow. Anyway, he helped me start my career.” 

“So, what? Now he thinks he’s responsible for every achievement of yers?” 

“I think that’s a part of it,” I replied. “But after that show ended, we worked together for a while. Maybe four or five shows. During the third show, things...changed between us.” 

Jamie squeezed my hand. He was encouraging me to continue. It seemed like a promise that he wouldn’t go anywhere, even if the story was hard to tell. I curled my knees to my chest, wrapping the hand Jamie wasn’t holding around my legs. He scooched his chair closer to me and brought his arms around my shoulders.  

“We started dating. Kind of. I don’t even know what you’d really call it. We certainly didn’t define it. I was young and desperate to have a career and somehow he was helping me. I was sort of in awe of him.” I leaned my head against Jamie’s shoulder as I got to the harder part of my story. “It took me a while to see that he was not exactly the person I thought he was.” 

“Did he hurt ye?” Jamie asked, concern coloring his voice. 

“No. Well, not physically. He was a bloody bastard, but he never laid a hand on me,” I assured him. “It was different than that. I saw the way he treated the actors. That was the first indication. He was nothing like John. John is kind and helps move things along in a manner that is conducive to a good production. Frank...he used intimidation. He’d threaten their jobs or just try to scare them.” 

“And did he eventually do that to ye?” 

“It took me a while to really see what he was like. To me, he was nice and he seemed to care. At least for a bit. But I was his partner. When I really noticed the way he treated his subordinates, it was very eye opening. I once called him out on it and he brushed me off. But I don’t think he liked that I’d finally noticed it. So, then he was overly nice to everyone, even if it was just a ploy. After our fifth show, I told him I was going to be looking to work with other producers to try and vary my resume, essentially. That was the lie I told him. I was trying to distance myself from him professionally to see if I could tolerate still being with him romantically.” 

“How did he take it?” 

“Not well,” I said with a laugh. “He threw the biggest fit, screaming about how I wouldn’t have a career without him and that if I left him, I’d just fall flat. He told me I’d be crawling back to him and that my name would never mean anything in the world of the theatre.” 

“Jesus.” 

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. So, after that, I just left him completely. But he still didn’t want to take no for an answer. He’d show up at my apartment. I’d given him a key so I had to have the locks changed. And then he’d call me incessantly. I eventually changed numbers. I even moved in with Lamb for a bit until I could find a better place.” 

“My God,” Jamie breathed. “Claire, that’s awful.” 

“Yeah, it was. He wouldn’t give up. Oddly enough, the thing that made him finally stop coming after me was when I got attached to a new show with new producers.” My eyes flicked over my shoulder to the bookshelf. “And that was when I won my Tony.” 

Jamie grinned at me in awe before leaning forward to kiss my temple. “What a way to stick it to him.” 

“Pretty much,” I agreed. I curled into Jamie a bit more. “Although, there was a bit of a drought for a few years after that.” Jamie looked confused. “He had his term on the Nominating Committee and I can’t be certain of it, but I think he made sure my name was omitted.” 

“What? That bastard.” 

“Yeah. Like I said, there’s no real way to know for sure, but my shows would be nominated for plenty of awards, but never me,” I confessed. “Thankfully, they can only have three year terms, so he was booted off just recently.” 

“Is this the first Tony ye’ve been nominated for since he blocked ye?” Jamie asked. 

“Yes, actually it is. The first one that I’ve been nominated for as a director,” I told him. “I mean, it didn’t hurt my career. Obviously, I’ve still had a good career, even without the nominations. My shows were awarded, even if I, myself was not.” I looked over at him. “I mean, you still knew my name enough to want to work with me. So, clearly, I wasn’t too hurt by it. But it stung. And it pissed me off.” 

“As it should,” Jamie agreed. 

“And somewhere along the way, I met John. He had had his own bad interactions with Frank and we sort of bonded over it. After our first show together, we realized we worked quite well as a team and that was when we made the contract. It kept him from somehow demanding to work with me again.” I was silent for a moment, thinking through the rest of the story. “But any time I have any sort of success, he pops back into my life. Tries to remind me that he was there at the beginning. That’s why he’s shown up now.” 

“Do ye think he was there today to try and get ye to work with him again?” 

I nodded. “I think so. He hates John. And clearly John hates him. But we’re successful and Frank really hasn’t been recently. I think since my star is now higher than his, he wants me to reciprocate. But, there’s no way in hell I’d work with him again. I’m not letting him back into my life.” 

Jamie pulled me to lean against him. “I think that’s a wise idea, Sassenach. I’m sorry that ye’ve had to go through that all. Certainly doesn’t make my feelings of wanting to punch him go away.” 

I laughed, wrapping my arm around him. “Don’t do it. You’re getting the best revenge anyway.” 

“Because I’m wi’ you?” 

I grinned up at him. “Exactly. You have what he’ll never have again.” Jamie matched my grin as he leaned down and kissed me. He pulled back suddenly with a strange look on his face. “You’d think with this in your past, your uncle would be more upset about you dating a fellow director or a producer rather than an actor.” 

I laughed, leaning my head against his chest. “Are you still upset about that?” He shook his head with a grin. “He wouldn’t say it — especially not now — but I would bet he wants me to date outside of the theater world.” 

“I don’t see the allure of that, personally,” he remarked, placing a kiss against my neck. 

“Well, I don’t see that being something either of us have to worry about,” I replied airily. There had been plenty of other times where one of us had alluded to something like that, even if we’d never really had the “marriage” talk. 

Jamie’s eyes lingered on me for a long moment before he kissed me again. “Aye, I think ye’re right.” He leaned his forehead against mine. “I am sorry about earlier, Claire.” 

I cupped his face in my hands. “I promise you that you don’t need to be. Please don’t beat yourself up about it. I love you. And if all you’d wanted was a secret rendezvous, I’d have been all about it without question if it had been somewhere more private.” 

Jamie laughed, tilting his head back. “That’s good to know. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

The weeks leading up to the Tony Awards were always a busy time for the Broadway community. John and I had put our work on hold to take care of anything related to the awards. Jamie was eating in our office one day when John had an announcement. 

“Did you see the email about the luncheon?” he asked. 

“What luncheon?” Jamie asked around a bite of his sandwich. 

I looked at him in surprise. “The luncheon celebrating all the nominees.” He shrugged like he’d never heard of it. 

“Jamie, it would be to your credit to be a more informed member of the theatre community,” John sighed. 

“This is all my first time,” Jamie reminded us. “If I’d gotten some show before this and had watched others go through it, perhaps I would know more, but I was extremely fortunate to be nominated for my first show.” 

“It’s just us, Jamie,” John replied. “You don’t have to go for fake humility.” 

Jamie laughed as he shook his head. “I wish I didn’t feel like a bloody imposter.” 

I rubbed my hand along his shoulders. “You’ve earned it all.” He gave me a look before returning to his sandwich. “Anyway, the luncheon is on Friday and you’ll be done in time to get to the theater. Obviously, because most of the nominees have to get there. But there’s music and food, and lots of congratulations. Basically, it’s a way to shower everyone with praise before 80% of the people aren’t deemed winners.” 

John laughed, but Jamie didn’t seem quite as amused. “And everyone has to go?” 

“You’re bloody going,” I commanded him. “It’s to honor all the nominees. You’re expected to be there. I’m not sure anyone’s ever missed it before, actually.” 

“Not any year I’ve attended,” John chimed in. 

“See? So, you’re going!” 

“Why would you want to miss it?” John asked him.

Jamie shrugged a bit, paying special attention to the food container in his lap. “I dinna ken, I guess because I dinna quite feel like it’s real. Like I’ve actually earned my spot amongst these people. I…” he looked up at me, a vulnerable look on his face. “I still canna believe that the three of ye even wanted me. I spent production waiting for the other shoe to drop. And then it didn’t. And since the show’s started, I’ve been waiting for someone to politely tell me I need to step down. And I certainly didn’t expect a bloody Tony Award nomination on the first show I’ve ever booked on Broadway. So, it’s just been a series of unbelievable things that have happened to me and it’s led me to feel...well, less worthy.” 

I was ready to jump in and reassure Jamie that he was worthy of everything he’d gotten, but John beat me to it. It was probably better that way. John might be more convincing than Jamie’s girlfriend. 

He laid his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I know it’s incredible, and you’re right, it is truly incredible. But I can assure you, Jamie, you’re not some imposter. You should hear the way reviewers or our colleagues talk about you. Everyone’s been blown away by you. Hell, you should have heard how we talked about you after your audition. I mean, Marilyn objectified you a bit, but don’t worry, Claire shut that down fast.” He chuckled to himself. “And now, I guess I get why.” 

I glared at him before I turned back to Jamie. “He’s right though. I promise you that neither me, nor John, nor anyone in your immediate family paid off the Nominations Committee to give you the nomination. You earned it, Jamie. And you deserve to be there.” 

“Thank ye,” he said, looking at both of us. “I appreciate it.” 

I couldn’t tell for sure if he really bought everything we were telling him, but he seemed at least mildly appeased. Returning to my lunch, I thought back on other nominees luncheons and how enjoyable they’d been. There was no doubt in my mind that it would be more fun with Jamie there. 

It wasn’t until the day of the luncheon that I realized how horribly wrong I’d been. In years past, it had been a time to catch up with colleagues I don’t often get to see and celebrate other people’s successes. And theoretically, that was still the case. But this time, I was in the same room as the love of my life and was unable to do more than act as his director. 

John could clearly tell that I was frustrated — or at the very least, acting differently than I had in other years. He kept bringing me drink after drink, which didn’t necessarily help matters. I wasn’t mingling as much as I should have been. Instead, I was stuck at my table, watching Jamie mingle and meet more Broadway stars. I’d seen too many women fawn over him. All I wanted to do was stomp over and put my arm around him, claiming him as mine. I couldn’t do that, though. We were still a secret. 

It had been months of keeping our relationship a secret and sometimes, I understood why we did it. Sometimes, it wasn’t even that much of a challenge. Sometimes, it was even a bit sexy keeping things a secret. But then other times — like the luncheon — it felt impossible. If I saw one more hand lay on his arm, I was going to lose it. I really needed to tell John to cut me off, but there was no way in hell I’d have the strength for that. 

As John brought me yet another drink, he also gave me some advice. “Maybe if you got up and went to talk to other people, you’d be less annoyed by the people talking to Jamie.” 

I took a deep breath before picking up my newest drink. “You’re right. I just…” 

“You’re not used to having to share him with the world,” John finished for me. “If you ever went out and were in the same place as him, it was the theater, where the whole cast already knew both of you or our office where I knew the secret. You haven’t been subjected to people reacting to him like this because the other people in the cast are used to him.” 

“His charm is almost dangerous,” I whispered. 

John laughed. “You’re not wrong.” He nudged my shoulder. “That’s the last drink I’m getting you until you get up and go talk to some people. Even if it’s just Louise or Joe.” 

I nodded, standing up from the table, grabbing my drink. “Thanks, John.” 

Making my way around the room, I tried to ignore my irrational feelings. No matter what woman threw herself at Jamie today, he’d come home to me. I knew that. But somehow, it couldn’t get past the deep recesses of my brain and overpower all the ugliness that was springing to the forefront. I gave Jamie a wide berth and found my way over to a fellow director I’d yet to congratulate in person. 

John had been right. Talking to people had helped. Until I turned around to see some beautiful actress clutching his arm, doubled over laughing at something he must have said. He laughed along with her, looking overly pleased with himself. I went to take a long pull of my drink only to find it empty...again. I’d been drinking far too much for the afternoon. 

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Jamie. I did. I always have. But, not being able to go to him as I normally would and be myself around him was draining me. It was helping me make irrational decisions. I glanced down at the bottom of my drink — I’d lost count of what number it was — and I made up my mind. I more or less slammed the glass down on the bar and marched over to Jamie. He was still talking to that actress — she was in some nominated musical, I thought — and I put on my director voice. 

“Hey, Fraser, can I talk to you for a moment?” I asked. To my drunken ears, it sounded completely professional. I could only hope it sounded that way to others. Or that they were as drunk as I was. 

His face was completely blank as he looked at me. “Sure,” he said with a nod. He glanced over to the actress next to him. “Excuse me.” I started to walk away, knowing he’d follow me.

“Oh sure, I get it. When the director calls, you’ve gotta listen,” she laughed. 

“That’s just it,” he answered before falling instep behind me. 

My steps faltered for a moment, fearing that he’d actually meant it. I didn’t have much of a plan in place — just that I wanted to get Jamie alone. I walked off toward the room that normally would function as a coat check. Thankfully, it was the end of May and no one seemed to have checked a coat. I looked both ways before opening the door and gesturing for Jamie to enter. He gave me an odd look but didn’t question it. 

“What’s —” 

I cut him off before he could finish his question, throwing myself against him and fitting my lips to his. He wrapped his arms around me as he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall. My hands were everywhere on him — in his hair, down his back, clinging to his neck. He held me steady against him. His response was not quite as eager as mine, but he hadn’t stopped me yet. 

My mind was in a mighty struggle. My instincts were telling me to mark him, show the world that he was mine. The part of my brain that wasn’t drowned in alcohol was telling me that I was getting too caught up and needed to stop. In the end, it was Jamie who made the decision for me. 

I moved my mouth to his neck, my fingers at the buttons on his shirt. His hands grabbed mine gently, but decisively. “Claire, we canna.” 

“Why not?” I whined against his throat. 

I felt and heard him laugh. “Christ, how much have ye had to drink?” 

Pulling back, I looked at him. Suddenly, I was filled with horror at what I’d done. We were the furthest thing from being subtle. I’d spent the entire afternoon not connecting with colleagues, but staring in jealousy at my secret boyfriend. I was acting like a lovestruck teenager, not a mature adult. More than that, any sense of secrecy we’d held onto for months had likely been blown as I dragged Jamie off to the fucking cloak room to feel him up. I felt my face grow hot — the heat of shame, no doubt. 

I couldn’t reply. Instead, I dropped my hands from him and backed away. Without meeting his eyes, I threw the door open and ran from the coat check. I ran into the ballroom to grab my purse and was off before anyone could stop me. If I hadn’t needed my keys, I wouldn’t have even gone back there. 

I had never felt so embarrassed in my life. I’d spent a decade building a career for myself. If I’d have been found in the coat room with the lead of my latest show at the nominees’ luncheon, I’d have been the laughingstock of the community. Especially as a woman. The entire reason Jamie and I had kept our relationship a secret for so long was to protect our careers. Admittedly, we were trying to protect his more than mine, but mine was being allowed the same protection. And yet, I’d risked it all and for what? To feel like Jamie knew he was mine? 

I was acting like a fool. 

For once I was glad that Jamie wouldn’t have the time to come home before he had to be at the theater. I was too embarrassed to see him right now. He’d, no doubt, tell me that it was fine, but I knew it wasn’t. I didn’t need to be coddled at the moment. I had risked everything we’d worked and suffered for. It had been hard keeping it all a secret, but we’d done so to keep our reputations in tact. I could only hope no one had seen us. 

Thankfully, once I got home, the alcohol kicked in and I passed out on the couch. I woke up in the dark. Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, it was nearly 10:00. I’d slept the rest of the afternoon and into the night. I didn’t know how that was possible. 

The longer I was awake, the more shame returned to me. I laid my hand over my face, starting to beat myself up again. When I turned on the lamp, I saw that my clutch laid on the table across from the couch. Wondering if I’d missed anything, I grabbed my phone out of it. 

I had a couple of texts from John. But then there were the other tons of notifications, all from Jamie. Seven missed calls and ten texts. I hadn’t even looked at my phone as I came home, and certainly not after I got back. The first thing I did was throw myself down on the couch and then sleep found me. Looking down at my phone, I almost felt a bit guilty that I hadn’t looked at it. 

Where are you?

Claire, did you leave? 

I just found John and he said he hasn’t seen you. Did you leave? 

Claire, please answer the phone. 

Are you mad? I didn’t mean to offend you earlier. 

The luncheon is over and I’m not going to have time to come home before I have to be at the theater. Please at least call me and let me know you’re alright. 

I’m thisclose to calling in Mark and coming to find you. 

Sassenach, I hope you’re okay. You’re worrying me. 

Claire! 

I love you. 

It was the last one that brought on the tears. I curled into a ball, clutching my phone to me as I started to cry harder. Today had been one of the worst, if not the worst, in terms of how hard it had been to keep our relationship a secret. I felt like I was at a breaking point. I didn’t want this pressure on me anymore.

I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there releasing all the feelings built up within me over months of keeping the most important thing in my life a secret. The tears didn’t stop, even when the door opened and Jamie walked in, bearing a very concerned expression. He was at my side immediately, wrapping me tightly in his arms. 

“Shhh,” he cooed, brushing my hair back. 

I clung to him, letting him pull me onto his lap to hold me tighter. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. 

He pulled back, looking confused. “What on earth are ye sorry for?” 

I breathed out a laugh as I continued to cry. “Well, a lot of things, really.” He laid his forehead against mine, giving me a look, urging me to go on. “For how I acted earlier. For not checking my phone before I passed out for hours on end. For being a total basket case.” 

Jamie chuckled, shaking his head at me. “I was a bit worried when ye just left, but I wouldna say ye need to be sorry for any of those things.” 

“I acted like a total fool,” I cried, looking away from him. He took my chin and gently moved me to look at him again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I laughed, sniffling a bit. “Well, I do. I’d had easily six or seven drinks and I was jealous as hell.” 

“I hope you know you didn’t need to be,” Jamie whispered, brushing hair out of my face.

“Clearly common sense was not the strongest today.” I nestled into the crook of his neck. “Keeping our relationship a secret has never felt harder than it did today.”

Jamie nodded. “Aye, I ken what ye mean.”

“It was hard for you too?” I asked, looking back up at him. 

“Of course it was. It’s hard anytime I’m in the same room as you and canna touch ye. Even just to put my arm around ye.” 

“Well, I should have kept better composure,” I said. “I should have just done what you did and talked to people and stayed the hell away from you, but I couldn’t. And in doing so, I could have wrecked everything. I mean, what would have been the point of keeping it a secret all this time if we’d have been discovered in the fucking coat closet by the biggest names in theater this year?” 

“Please, do ye no’ recall that I basically did the exact same thing just a few weeks back?” Jamie asked, ducking to meet my eyes. “Claire, I was insanely jealous and didna feel in control of myself seeing ye wi’ a man I knew you hated. Believe me, I understand. When it’s just you and me and our routine, it feels like keeping the secret is the easiest thing in the world. But then we’re around other people and I feel the need to tell every single one of them that ye’re my lass and no one else’s.” 

I let out a watery laugh. “Exactly.” Jamie wiped the tears from my face, kissing my forehead. “So, you aren’t mad at me? Or ashamed of me?” 

He laughed, shaking his head again. “Of course no’, Claire. I love ye. And I feel yer pain.” 

We sat there in a long moment of silence, just holding each other. I wrapped my arms tighter around him, my tears finally stopping. “Jamie, I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I admitted. 

I felt him shift beneath me. He planted a kiss in my hair. “I know. Me too.” 

Pulling back, I cupped his face, looking him in the eye. “So, why don’t we say we’ll just stop keeping it a secret. Maybe after the Tonys. We don’t have to make some big announcement, but we don’t keep it all a secret anymore. What do you say?” 

A smile crept across his face and finally he nodded. “Aye, I think that sounds like a good plan. That’s only a couple more weeks.” 

“I think we can do that, don’t you?” I asked. 

Jamie leaned down and kissed me softly. “I dinna ken, but I’ll try.” I leaned up and kissed him again, my arms winding around his neck. Without another word, he stood up, me in his arms, and walked us off toward our room.

Next chapter

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 168

Chapter Summary -With a day to think over her issues, Danielle and Tom decide on a venue and discuss other important parts of the wedding.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

NOTES -So yeah, Ashford castle is in Connemara too, it is a very fancy hotel where Rory McIlroy the golfer got married, and Pierce Brosnan...well, if I have to say who is, I'm shook.Also, apparently, that is the name of one of the people running the agency Tom is with, so yeah, I just went with that.

Danielle looked at the extravagant building in front of her apprehensively. It was gorgeous but it was a five-star hotel, of course, it would be, the sensible side reminded her that this was one of the most expensive venues in Ireland and that was simply too much. The other part realised what she loved about Kylemore Abbey, it was far more to their liking in many ways. She sighed. Perhaps that was why they did not say yes straight away so that when she did, it was because she was not worried about other places, that she would know it was right for them. She no sooner saw the wedding organiser for the hotel and felt as though it was more of a brag for them to have high profile weddings than anything the bride and groom could want for their day. At the end of it all, she gave one look to Tom and a slight shake of the head and he gave a similar nod before they thanked the events planner and went back to the car.

“Elle?” Tom asked curiously.

“Can we tell Kylemore yes?” Tom stopped and looked at her. “I thought you didn’t…” “I know but this place, which is gorgeous, yes but it’s not us.” “No, it’s not,” Tom agreed. “I would love to stay here for a few days but for our wedding…”

“Definitely.” “That doesn’t mean Kylemore has to be the place though.” Tom pointed out. “If you’re not happy with it, we don’t have to pick it, it’s not a ‘here or there only’ choice. We can keep looking.” “Kylemore is not renowned for weddings, just the pictures, it’s known for other things. No one we don’t want will suspect it and it is beautiful. They were actually nice to us and seemed to care about our day, not the publicity and I just feel it is a far better fit. I just...with time to think and whatnot, I would like it, honestly.” “And the cost?” Tom pressed slightly. They had spoken about it several times but before they left, Tom physically sat her down and told her that though he knew she was a financially savvy woman, something he liked about her, and she knew he was not one to spend unnecessarily himself as could be noted by his constant use of the same few garments but weddings were costly affairs in general and with neither of them planning to do it more than once, he wanted it done right and knew she was similar. She was meticulous by nature, so of course, she would want the best from their day and he was willing to do whatever was required to do so within reason. If he said it was reasonable, he was willing to do it and wanted her to feel that she could ask for most anything she wanted for the day and he would agree.

Danielle inhaled deeply. “As you said, it’s once-off.”

Elated that she had listened to him, Tom retrieved the number for the Abbey and dialled it, watching as Danielle began driving towards the Victorian complex, making arrangements to book their day, excited to be getting something so official sorted.

*

It was dark by the time Danielle and Tom left the Abbey. There was a substantial amount of paperwork, not just from the management for them but with their decision made, Tom had informed Luke of said decision and he, along with Tom’s agent, Christian arranged for an NDA to be faxed to the Abbey for Danielle’s and Tom’s privacy which took some time to organise. At the end of it all, Tom and Danielle were relieved to be in the car and returning to her grandmother’s.

“Well, that’s sorted.” Danielle was content to have that particular issue put to rest. She had texted Emma as her matron of honour to inform her of the location. “I am sure Aunt Bernie will be seething at our ‘outdoing’ Laura.” “And what will Laura think?” “That she is happy to get her wedding reception in the hotel she swore she would, I assume. We went to our...I have no idea what relation they are to us but some relation’s wedding in that hotel and she swore it was her dream location, that was like ten years ago and sure enough, she’s getting married there, so I don’t think she will care about us, she likes her own thing.” Danielle stated as she pulled the car out of the car park and drove in the direction of Galway.

“Are you excited to have this done?” Tom queried.

“It’s one less stress now. We have the church and the reception, that’s two of the biggest concerns sorted, everything else is just small stuff. I will ring the florists in the morning, we also need to be honest, sit down and discuss numbers in the bridal party.” “How do you mean?” “Well, how many groomsmen are you thinking?” “I am not sure, I don’t know how to get it down to two or three.”

“Well, you best be thinking. We need to start getting that side of things sorted.” “How many bridesmaids have you?” “I only chose Emma so far. I was thinking perhaps Nacelle too but nothing planned yet.” “Well Luke is a given,” Tom rattled off. “I think he has to be my Best Man.”

“At this stage, he deserves that, your firstborn and a substantial inheritance, if you don’t kill him with the stress first.”

Tom gave her a slightly bemused look. “I was also thinking Ben.” “Well, you were his groomsman, you are best friends, it makes sense,” She agreed.

“But Francis...”

Danielle gave a slight nod, Francis she had met at the gathering they had in their home with Hugh Laurie, his wife and the Cumberbatch’s. He had been Tom’s roommate in college, they knew each other from Eton, they rarely got to see each other anymore, Francis rarely was in Britain these days, he moved to the US a time before but he and Tom met often when Tom went there, Jeremy often going to where Tom was to see his friend or when Jeremy was in England, she knew his meaning to Tom, he had been his main peer support when his parents had broken up. “Well, then, have three groomsmen.”

“Would you be okay with that?” Tom asked hopefully.

Danielle scoffed. “Tom, if you want seven groomsmen, then so be it, it’s your wedding too.” She reminded him.

“Is that going into the realms of excessive?”

“Not at all, it’s a reasonable amount and they are three of your closest friends.”

“But you have only two bridesmaids?”

“I think it’s safe to say I can wrangle up a third. I don’t really talk to many from school any more, I lost contact with most of them when I went to Britain, that’s not to say I don’t have people I can ask, so I will consider a third and we keep it even. We have our flower girls sorted, we can’t choose between them, but that’s fine, the Duchess can no doubt assist with Lucy, we need two little page boys then to even that, I was thinking, you’re Francis’ boy’s Godfather and he is what, eight? He will be perfect and if we ask Ben and Sophie if we can use Kit? If they decline, we have other options.”

Tom eyed her cautiously. “How much thought have you put into this?” “I analyse everything, I’m peculiar like that, that’s why I went to study business, why I became a paramedic and why I am a safety officer.” She commented, not taking her eyes off the road due to free-roaming ponies and sheep that she knew could be at risk in the darkness.

“I feel like I am leaving too much of this on you, like I am not doing my fair share.”

“I am the naturally organised one, though, it makes sense that I would do a lot of the planning.” She pointed out.

Tom had to concede that was true. He had found that since Danielle had entered his life, even before when it was as a friend, aspects of it had become far more organised. She showed him the fine art of cooking when he had time and making portions of whatever he could that would be perfect for those evenings he would not have time to cook. It made filming a hundred times easier, she even suggested that if he did not even have time to cook, get some deli cooked meals and portion them, it startled him how efficient she was. And now as his partner, she had organised his life all the more. Even his morning routine, which had taken him upwards of forty-five minutes to an hour with breakfast was twenty now. Time efficiency, he realised, was a matter of immense importance to her and none were happier with that alteration to his life than Luke, who had more than once pleaded with Tom to remain with Danielle for that reason in itself if nothing else. “Well, let me know if you need me to do more.” She nodded as she indicated to turn onto another road. “Do you still think it an extravagant waste though?” “Oh yeah, I’ll always maintain that.” She laughed slightly. “But a waste I’m okay with.”

“So, you’re happy with that? You’re okay, with it.” “Yes.” She confirmed, noting the worried look on his face. “For the record, I am okay with everything.”

Tom knew her comment was more than a general statement. After their discussion yesterday or more accurately her letter and Tom making reference to it after, Danielle seemed better, more like herself again. There was a small cloud over things but not as bad as the day before. She seemed to be glancing at Tom every other minute as though waiting for him to say something on the matter but he said nothing, he simply held her hand and kissed her whenever he felt her getting anxious. “Good, I am here Elle, no matter what, I am here. If you woke up tomorrow and decided to never return to England, if you told me you were not interested in marrying me, if you wanted never to kiss me again, you can trust me with what you told me and you can talk to me about it if you are ever ready to speak about it.”

With a loving smile, she brought her hand over to his for a moment and gave it a small squeeze. “I am so lucky to have you.”

[rafivadafreddy]

I Wonder

A Rafael Barba and Amelia ‘Emma’ Herrera Story.

Summery: Amelia ‘Emma’ broke up with Rafael when he was 18 and she was just 16. He left for Harvard and Emma left for Italy two years later when she graduated. Fast-forward Fourteen years when Emma and Rafael run into each other again. Will there still be sparks between the two or have they both changed too much to be together again?

Not gonna be a long fic. Maybe just a few parts.

Word Count: 2,027

Warnings: Uhm. Cursing?(Is that even a warning? Who doesn’t curse.) Spanish... Italian. I don’t know

"Rafi! Don't you understand! I'm doing this because I care about you!" Emma begged the man to understand. "You got a scholarship to Harvard! I still have two years of school left. You should go and enjoy your full ride out of this place!" she cupped his cheeks with her hands and brushed her thumbs under his eyes where she could see the tears forming. Heck, Emma had to force herself not to cry. She had to break up with Rafael, what could she offer him once he ups and leaves for Harvard? She was just a silly sixteen-year-old who was madly in love with him. Yet when she heard him talking to Eddie and Alex about refusing the offer to leave and find a college closer to home... because of her. She knew she had to stop him.

"Pero cariño. it's fine..."(wait sweetie) he tried to speak, but Emma covered his lips with her own one last time.

"Please... go be somebody in this life, Rafael. You deserve it, you worked way too hard for this scholarship to throw it away." She spoke quietly. "Besides, I'm not anywhere near as smart as you are. I'll be in a local college here in two years. Probably still trying to figure out what to do with my life. Not you though, you just go and be happy." Emma nodded before taking a step back away from Rafael. Turning to see her mother calling her down the street from their apartment building. Emma sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. 

"adiós mi amor..."(Goodbye my love.) she whispered before turning around and running home. Ignoring Rafael as he called after her. 

That summer, Amelia spent every day working and doing whatever she could to avoid Rafael. She couldn't confront him. She had gone to his graduation in secrecy. Only to leave in tears when she saw Yelina throw herself in his arms and kiss his cheek repeatedly. She should have known, Yelina was Rafael's age, they were both gorgeous and smart. Why wouldn't Rafael want to be with someone like her? Why he kept trying to talk to Amelia was beyond her. Amelia only knew that she wasn't about to fall for his words.

By the time school was back, Emma focused on her schoolwork, even starting to do theater. Becoming a star student quickly, earning the leading roles, and ending up having an amazing rest of the school year. Eddie Garcia would come to each show of hers, supporting the young girl. The two, after Rafael left, became close friends. Especially when Eddie found out that Amelia's mother had a new boyfriend who paid close attention to Emma. So, Eddie would always be over and acting as he was her boyfriend. Right until her graduation came and her grandmother handed Amelia a plane ticket with a smile.

"Go see the world niña..."(Little girl) she said and when Emma saw it was a one-way ticket to Italy. She nodded and hugged her grandmother.

A week later, standing at the airport with Eddie. Her luggage already having been handed off. She hugged the man who kept her safe for the last two years. Kissing his cheek, Emma was off with a backpack over her shoulders heading to her gate. Ready for an adventure.

As she sat in the seat of the plane, watching out the small window. A tear rolling down her cheek, she softly sang under her breath. "I wonder, it's frightening... Leaving now, is that the right thing? I wonder, it scares me, but who the hell am I if I don't even try... I'm not a coward. Oh no, I'll be strong." 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

For the first two years, Amelia worked night and day to learn the language and live comfortably in a neighborhood in Verona called Valdonega. A cute little place that was still a nice walking distance from the city center. Enrolling in college, doing what she needed, Emma went for her Doctors degree. Working at cafes and restaurants to pay for everything. Along with the help from her grandma now and then.

Emma loved her life. As the years passed, she graduated and soon went to medical school and got her doctors degree in pediatrics. Finding a steady job at a hospital where she could use both her English and Italian, even her Spanish every now and again for her three year pediatrics residency. Emma just enjoyed life. Going to the Theater with her friends, working or just staying home in her little apartment. Things were going amazingly for the girl who came all the way from the Bronx. When nine years slowly passed, and Emma found herself celebrating her Thirtieth birthday with a few friends. That's when she knew what she had to do. Breaking the news of her move after one stressful shift. Emma was heading back home. Back to New York. She had done everything she needed to do to complete her pediatrics training. Now was the right time to move on.

Eddie had been excited when she emailed him two days back, the two never lost contact over the years. He even joked about her getting there in time for his wedding, something she would try to do. 

It took two weeks to sort everything out. But soon enough Amelia was on a plane heading back to New York. Back to the Bronx where a room was waiting for her at her grandmother's apartment. After Twenty-Four hours of flying and making connecting flights. Emma was sure she looked like crap when finally grabbing her luggage and heading out of the airport. She only smiled when she saw a familiar face. 

"Ciao Eddie! Come te la passi?"(Hi Eddie! How are you doing?) she grinned as she spoke Italian with the man. Who didn't look one bit bothered at all. Instead of replying, Eddie hugged Emma tightly. 

During the car ride to the Bronx, the two friends chatted. About her life in Italy, how she had a slight accent. Eddie even teasing Emma on not knowing anymore Spanish. Which earned him a punch in the arm. Amelia learned about Yelina's cheating on Rafael with Alex, during the whole relationship. Then the wedding that took place a year after the breakup. Not that Emma commented on those facts very much. What could she say? It’s been over ten years since she spoke to Rafael. Emma honestly doubted he wanted anything to do with her. Not that she would blame him. His first girlfriend dumps him -even though it was for his good- and ghosts him. His next girlfriend cheats on him with his best friend four months into their relationship of almost a year and a half and then dumps him. 

Looking out the window, Emma just bit her lip. Knowing full well she couldn't stay long at the Bronx. She would find a job at a hospital, having a bachelor's degree in nursing, and experience working in a hospital from her time in Verona. Emma was certain she could do it. 

After Eddie's wedding, something she was shocked to not see Rafael at. She soon found herself working at Bellevue at the Pediatrician ward and the E.R. After her move to Manhattan, away from the Bronx. Even though it was her home, she was just not used to it anymore. Living in a cute apartment with a roommate who Emma got along with right off the bat. Life was going great. Never realizing that every now and then a certain Cuban, green-eyed man would pass her by on the streets. But one never saw the other.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Before Emma knew it, four years had passed since moving back to New York. One cold November morning, while standing in line at a coffee shop while texting Eddie. Waiting for the line to move, except some people just never know what they want. Causing Emma to curse and lookup. It was Seven in the morning and she had just gotten off a thirty-three-hour shift from the ER that was non-stop thanks to the huge accident that happened the night before. Amelia felt as if she would fall asleep then and there. Only ‘cause she worked an extra three hours.

"Oh, come on... " she rolled her head back and felt her neck pop. Answering her phone when it rang, the girl sighed. "Eddie Garcia! Stop calling me! I'm cranky, sleepy, and still in my scrubs, and its fucking freezing outside!" she snapped once she heard the man on the other end of the call laugh. "Tu Hijo de puta! Call me again and I won't babysit your spawn."(You son of a bitch!) Emma added, feeling a headache come on and she just sighed. Finally stepping forward and placed in her coffee order and asking for a deli sub. All while Eddie was telling her about the party for his son next and that she had to go. Emma agreed to before hanging up and waiting for her order. 

"Amelia Herrera?" a voice spoke next to her, sounding shocked. Emma already knowing that it wasn't her order being called out. Mostly because she was certain she didn't give her last name. So, turning on her heel, her eyes almost bugged out when she saw him standing there.

"Rafael Barba..." she said quietly, "Figlio di puttana..."(Son of a bitch.) she added and smiled slightly. "Ha sido un tiempo..."(It's been a while.) she frowned, thinking about how it's been around sixteen years since she’s had last seen him.

The two just stared at each other, not sure what to say. When her coffee and sandwich was handed off to her, Amelia thanked the guy and turned back to see Rafael. Taking him in. The fancy suit, briefcase in hand, hell she could practically feel the authority and sense of purpose just by the way he stood. Emma suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Knowing damn well her hair looked like a bird’s nest and her nurse’s scrubs were dirty from her shift. She had forgotten to bring a second pair of clothes when she got into work the night before.

“Yeah, it has been a while.” She heard Rafael speak after what seemed like an eternity. “You look… interesting. New look?” he said, looking her over with a smirk. Causing Emma to let out a snort.

“Oh yeah, what do you think? Think I can pull off this messy nurse look?” she said sarcastically, grinning at the man in front of her.

“I think you should maybe try another look. This one does nothing for your appearance.” He chuckled softly, “I have to get going… but we should meet for coffee... or lunch and catch up some time?” he offered and Amelia bit down on her lip before nodding.

Handing over her phone so he could add his number, Amelia watched as Rafael called his own number, so he’d have her number as well. Smiling as she was handed her phone back. Emma pocketed the device and picked up her bag and coffee. Taking a sip. She nodded.

“Right… so I’ll text you? Or… you’ll text me?” she laughed softly and ran a hand through her hair and drank more of her coffee.

After the slightly awkward goodbye, Emma dashed out of the coffee shop and walked down the sidewalk. Heading to her apartment building. As soon as she arrived, Emma ate her sub and drowned the rest of the coffee before going to shower. It was nearing Eight in the morning when Emma finally laid in her bed and slept. Waking up hours later, Emma glared at the time that read it was past Five already in the evening. Sitting up and seeing her phone notifying her she had a message. Emma grabbed it off the charger and checked out who messaged her. Smiling, she leaned against her beds headboard and messaged back. Agreeing to meet up for drinks, Emma laid back in bed and decided to sleep another hour. Setting her alarm, she closed her eyes and easily fell back asleep.

chapter two

[ptersparkers]

hi, peter parker

summary: the four nights spider-man visited your window and the one time he stayed.

a/n: this has been in my drafts since early 2018 and i am in love with peter parker. anyways im so grateful to get to hear back from you guys and i love seeing messages from you lot!!

warnings: none, just fluff 

masterlist / taglist 

i

To think you had said no to a night out.

You sighed and looked at your phone, your friend Taylor sending you a video via snapchat wishing you were at a friend’s house party. Initially you had declined because of a stressful week at school, but now you were bored out of your mind.

‘Sorry, Tay,’ you texted. ‘Maybe next time.’

Your phone’s clock read three minutes until midnight and you figured it would be best to sleep. You scoffed at the thought of resting when your body’s clock was rendered to stay up until four in the morning - what you had been doing some nights to study for upcoming AP tests. Now that that was out of the way, it’s like your body couldn’t fall asleep until well after midnight.

You groaned to yourself and switched on the small light by your bed. The light was dim enough so it wouldn’t bother the neighbors across from your apartment. Your eyes were closed for a total of, what felt like a millisecond, before you heard knocking on your window.

“What in the world?” you muttered. You stood up from your bed and immediately saw a red mask greet you.

“Hey there! I know this is weird, but you’re the only window with the light on and I really need to stop before I fall. There’s a whole bunch of houses and I need to fix my web shooters,” said the man in the mask, which you knew to be Spider-Man.

You stared at him, unable to comprehend what you were about to do. “Oh, um, sure,” you said before opening your window. You stepped aside and let him in. Spider-Man crawled through your window and landed effortlessly on the carpet, not making a sound.

“That was almost graceful,” you commented. “I’m pretty sure my mom would’ve thought I snuck out.”

“Do you sneak out?” he asked.

“Nah. I’m too lame to try. Do you want water or anything?” He shook his head.

“No, I just need someplace to fix my web shooters. I think they got jammed,” he replied.

“Okay, cool,” you said awkwardly, balancing from one foot to the other.

“Can I sit on your bed?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Do you have a small pick by any chance?”

“I have tweezers?”

“I guess that’ll do.”

You fetched tweezers from your makeup vanity and gave them to him. He instantaneously began working on his web shooters as you stood and watched. His head shot up and he faced you.

“I’m sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Spider-Man,” he said, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you replied. “Welcome to my humble abode.”i

“Thanks! I really like the board above your bed with all the polaroids. It looks so neat that I fear I might mess it up from all the way over here.”

You laughed and sat beside him. “I’ve been obsessed with taking polaroids for two years now. I made it a point to capture the best memories and fix them into some sort of memory board so I can remember the good times.”

“That’s smart. I wish I was artistic and creative, but I can barely draw a straight line with a ruler,” he said. You watched as he worked and sat in silence for a moment.

“Say, do these web shooters get stuck all the time?”

“Not usually, I just think I haven’t really been able to update them or clean them out. I’ve been busy with all this ‘saving the little guy’ stuff,” he said.

“Is it fun? Being Spider-Man, I mean. You’re practically an Avenger,” you asked.

“I’m technically not an Avenger. Well, not yet. I’ve been working with Mr. Stark for a little bit, but it’s mostly keeping Queens safe for now.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a serious job on your hands.”

You could see the eyes on his mask move like he was smiling underneath. “Yeah, I do. I’m glad people can understand that.”

“So, what kind of things do you do on your day off? I’m sure you’re not always swinging around and hanging out in the homes of strangers.”

He laughs. “No, not really. I don’t know, I hang out with friends sometimes.”

You thought about asking him more, but decided against it. His life outside of being Spider-Man was his own.

“Wow, that sounds pretty mundane. I do pretty much the same, except school’s almost over and I have a month until summer break,” you replied. Spider-Man hands you back your tweezers and fixes the web shooters back on his suit.

“Any fun plans for the summer?”

“As of right now, no, but who’s to say?”

Spider-Man laughed and walked towards your window. “I’m sure you’ll find something fun to do. Thanks again, Y/N.”

“See ya!” you say as you watch him exit the window and swing away.

ii

Summer was just around the corner. It was another Friday night and you had decided against studying for finals because it seemed that that was all you did in your free time. The sky was getting dark out and you decided to stay in bed tonight and binge watch shows on Netflix, turning your phone on silent. You had enough snacks to last you the entire night and popped your headphones in, pressing play.

It wasn’t long before you heard tapping on your window. Curiously, you stood from your bed and saw Spider-Man.

“You again,” you said playfully as you opened up the window. “What do you need this time?”

“Honestly? I think I need a little break,” he said. “I’d also love to take this suit off, but my identity is something I’d like to keep hidden for a little while.”

“That’s fine,” you replied. “I’m not really in a rush. Not that you need to tell me who you are or anything, ugh, you get what I mean.”

Spider-Man laughed and pointed at your window and you nodded, watching as he climbed his way through.

“Can you even breathe in that thing?” you asked, pointing at his mask.

“Oh, yeah! It’s a breathable material and lets oxygen pass so I’m not always suffocating myself. That’s how I’m able to keep the mask on at all times.”

“Interesting,” you said, sitting on your chair by your desk as he took a seat on your bed.

“Studying for finals?”

“More like procrastinating. Well, all I do is study and I deserve a break,” you said.

“That you do. Final season is coming up and I’m dreading having to -”

“Wait, you’re in school?” you asked, interrupting his speech.

Spider-Man looked at the ground, the walls, and anywhere but your gaze.

“I, uh, yeah?” he said with uncertainty, scratching the back of his neck.

“If you think I’m going to look all over Queens to find out which school you go to, I’m letting you know now that I won’t. That seems like too much effort and for all I know, that isn’t your actual voice,” you replied, twirling a pen in your hand.

“Phew, thank you,” said Spider-Man, pretending to wipe sweat off of his forehead. “Damn, all of this swinging made me really hungry.”

“You should try the deli down there. It’s called Delmar’s and it’s my favorite sandwich shop. Also, asked for the sandwiches to be smushed! Don’t ask me why, but it tastes better,” you said.

Spider-Man went silent for a moment and you cocked your head to the side, thinking you either said something wrong or he was just really hungry.

“What?”

Spider-Man shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. I’ll be sure to try your suggestion. Anyway, I’ll see you soon!”

And with that, you saw red and blue flying in the wind.

iii

You were half asleep with your headphones in your ears when you heard a faint ‘thwip.’ Your parents were fast asleep and you had willed yourself to watch one more episode of Law and Order: SVU before getting sleep for your final. Currently, you were on your side with one earbud in (the other having fallen out, but you didn’t care much) and the voice of Olivia Benson could be faintly heard from the volume that could put you to sleep.

You stirred slightly, but not enough to wake you up fully.

Then came a knock on your window. Once. Twice. Three times. You yawned and rolled over to see Spider-Man standing outside your window with nothing but the moon behind him to illuminate your room. You threw the covers off of you and rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, opening the window for him to come in. With it, the chilly wind did not welcome you warmly and you grabbed a sweatshirt from your closet.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said sheepishly.

You waved him off. “It’s okay, Spider-Man. I like your company and you’re probably the only person who I couldn’t bring myself to yell at.”

He put his hands of his heart. “Wow, I’m so touched.”

“You should be,” you said, climbing into the covers and resting your back against your bed frame. “What brings you to this part of Queens at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s only nine thirty,” Spider-Man deadpanned. You shrugged.

“What can I say? A girl really needs her beauty sleep before her last final.” Spider-Man’s autonomic eyes seemed to narrow as if her were in thought.  

“Oh shoot, that’s tomorrow? I’m sorry for bothering you,” he apologized. You laughed and shook your head, patting the bed for him to rest on. Spider-Man gently put his knees on the mattress and situated himself so he was laying on his side, looking at you.

“It’s okay, Spidey. You already know I love your company. Besides, it’s only nine thirty,” you mocked. Spider-Man laughed and the room fell into a comfortable silence. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing really,” he began, but you looked at him with a knowing expression. “Okay, a lot but that’s for another day when we have more time. I’m just thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life and I’m grateful it was you whose room I stumbled into and not some mean old lady.”

“I’m happy you came here too,” you confessed. “This is probably gonna sound weird but...your visits are something I look forward to. I don’t know, I just feel like I opened up to you much quicker than any of the friends I have at school.”

“I feel the same way,” he said, sighing. “I don’t know, it’s just hard being two people at the same time. Even though you don’t know my real name yet, you know more about me than anyone else does.”

“And that’s something I will cherish forever,” you said, stroking his cheek with your hand. “I’m really happy I met you.”

“I can say the same,” he replied. But before he could make himself more comfortable, Spider-Man pushed himself off of the bed and adjusted his web shooters before seeing that you had tucked yourself in. Spider-Man smiled and his autonomic eyes grew wider as he bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could barely feel his lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

iv

You groaned, slamming your door shut and planted your face into a pillow, wanting to forget the world had ever existed. It was a hot summer night and your mother had just let you know that she and your father would be staying at a friend’s for the week, but that you couldn’t join them this time. You probably should’ve been happy to have the apartment alone, but the last thing you wanted to be was alone.

Spider-Man hadn’t come by your apartment in nearly a month and you had started to grow increasingly worried about the boy who you couldn’t get out of your mind. Every time you thought about the possibility of dating, you immediately shook that out of your head for two reasons: the first being he’s a superhero and you were a regular New York citizen, and the fact that you didn’t know his name or what he looked like. You’d never pressure him, but that didn’t mean you were dying to know.

The sun was almost set when your parents left and you hadn’t had the decency to move from where you flung yourself. There was a tapping sound from the window and you knew who it was.

“It’s open!” you mumbled from your pillow, where you had curled yourself so you could continue in your self wallowing.

“Who dragged the cat in?” Spider-Man asked with a chuckle. You looked at him as if you hadn’t seen him in years and got off of your bed, letting your arms snake its way around him. With a sigh, you closed your eyes and let yourself revel in this moment. “You okay?”

“I was worried,” you said quietly. “You usually go no more than a few days of being gone but it’s been nearly a month, and I know I don’t have any right to worry, and that you were probably really busy, but I was really worried.” Spider-Man let out a soft chuckle and held your body closer to his, letting his chin rest on top of your head.

“You have every right to be worried, Y/N. I’m touched that you care so much. I-I’ve been a little stressed with my personal life and haven’t been able to patrol as often and I didn’t have much energy to swing to your place. I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I’m just relieved to find out you aren’t dead.”

Spider-Man laughed. “Say, what are your parents gonna think if they find me in your room?”

“Well, they’re gone this week so there’s no way that’s happening.”

“Oh, well lucky me, I guess,” he said nonchalantly as he let himself rest on your bed. He plopped himself in the middle, his back resting against the mattress as you chuckled. “Come lay with me.”

You didn’t say anything as you climbed next to him and willed yourself not to put your entire body on him, but Spider-Man pulled you to his side and held you tight.

“I had this nightmare that you needed me and I couldn’t save you,” said Spider-Man. “I was in a really weird place and felt like I couldn’t leave my house but last night was the last straw. You were falling and I couldn’t save you. I needed to see you again just to make sure.

His voice got weaker and you put your head on his chest, finding his hand to squeeze it to let him know you understood.

“Sometimes I think this gig is too much for me. I feel like I shouldn’t have been given these abilities but at the same time, I’m grateful for all the things it’s given me. Like you.”

“I’m here,” you whispered.

You both stared at the ceiling for a while, basking in each other’s company. You would faintly feel his heart beating through his suit and he was rubbing soothing circling on your hip with his thumb.

“You know,” you said, hesitantly while propping yourself up with your elbows. “You could stay for the night since my parents are gone.” Your eyes widened as soon as you said it. “I-I mean that in the most innocent way possible.”

Spider-Man laughed and looked at you with his autonomic eyes, letting a comfortable moment pass as he thought about your offer.

“I think I’d have to let some people know I’d be safe first, but I’d like that.”

It grew quiet between you two and you didn’t know what was to come next. Slowly, you moved your body to sit up and he followed suit, wondering what you were planning.

“Do you trust me?” you asked.

“I trust you,” he confirmed. You moved your hand towards his mask and you could already sense his body tense up, especially when you moved the mask up his face. You stopped for a brief moment, but he didn’t stop you. You kept lifting the mask until it rest gently above his nose and leaned in to place your lips on his.

The kiss was gentle and searing at the same time, like you both had been wanting to do something for a while but hadn’t until that very moment. It was passionate and innocent, slow and fast. It wasn’t rushed; you held his jaw with both hands, afraid that he was going to leave the second you pulled away. His lips moved in conjunction with yours and didn’t part until you both ran out of air.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while,” he said, not bothering to pull his mask down. You laughed and looked at him as he took off his web shooters and pulled his mask off his face.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker.”

To say you were surprised was an understatement. Spider-Man was cute.

“Holy shit, you’re hot,” you whispered more to yourself. Peter laughed and your cheeks developed a pink tint.

“I happen to think you’re also hot,” Peter said with a chuckle before pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Hi, Peter Parker,” you said with a grin.

“Hi, Y/N Y/L/N,” he said with a grin equally as big.

“I don’t really know what I imagined under the mask, but you’re much cuter than what I had expected,” you said. “Let me go get some of my brother’s extra clothes. He lives in Los Angeles now but we still have some of his stuff!”

Peter smiled at you as you walked out of your bedroom and took the time to look around, letting himself bask in the moment that was pure bliss. How you were going to introduce him to your parents, he didn’t know. But Peter knew he didn’t want to let you go any time soon.

***

Taglist

@kath94210​ @sessi03​ @olliekookie​ @edgyhargreeves​ @simonsbluee​ @meraki--me @sleep-i-ness​

[crue-sixx]

Scary Movie Marathon (Mötley Crüe Imagine)

Summary: You and the boys all decide to celebrate the beginning of October by watching some scary movies.

You were sat on the couch between your two friends, Nikki Sixx and Mick Mars, balancing a bowl of popcorn in your lap with one hand while the other held a beer. The youngest member of the group, Tommy Lee, was sitting in a lawn chair that served as furniture as Vince Neil sat on the dingy carpet in front of you. You were all focused on the small tv set that was playing a scary movie, Halloween to be exact. You managed to find the boys a cheap vhs player and provided the movies for the night’s scary movie marathon.

“Jamie Lee is so fucking hot,” Vince commented as it showed her on the screen, running from the house that housed her dead friends and her killer brother.

“I second that statement,” Tommy replied after finishing off his beer and throwing the bottle off to the side, not caring where it went. “Just look at her running, dude.”

“Bunch of fucking perverts,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes at the two guys.

“Hey, don’t be so bitter just because we’re not eye fucking you for once,” Vince retorted and Tommy laughed.

“Eww,” you replied and smacked the back of Vince’s head before throwing some popcorn at Tommy.

Vince rubbed the back of his head with a scowl as Tommy shrugged and picked up the stray popcorn that was on his chest, eating it. Mick watched the young drummer before rolling his eyes at him. He then took a sip of his beer and focused back on the television. You all enjoyed the rest of the film with no other interruptions.

It was Nikki’s turn to pick out the movie so he did just that as you went into the kitchen to make some more popcorn. You were all going through it pretty quickly. Tommy and Nikki were like human garbage disposals. They could eat a good amount of anything.

“So what are we watching, fellas?” You asked as you took your spot on the couch again. Mick was still in his same spot, but Tommy was now sitting beside you with Nikki in the lawn chair.

“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” Nikki announced and pressed play on the vhs player.

Your eyes widened as you looked over at the bassist. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? You didn’t even own that movie so how in the hell were you all about to watch that one? You were a horror movie fan, but you’d never watched that one. That movie freaked you out way too much for some reason. You remember when it came out when you were younger and being too terrified to watch it. Maybe it was how scary Learherface made himself look or the sound of the chainsaw he used. It could also be the fact that they claimed that the events of the movie had happened though you had learned that that was not the case. You weren’t sure what it was, but that movie just freaked you out.

“But...but I didn’t bring that one,” you said to him.

“No, but I found a used copy real cheap at a video store,” he replied and shrugged. “It’s a classic and I saw that you didn’t bring it so I did the honors.”

You nodded once and tried to play off your uneasiness in a cool manner. The boys would never let you hear the end of it if they knew that you were actually scared of a horror movie. Instead, you swallowed down the rest of your beer for some liquid courage and discreetly scooted closer to Mick, who had his arm resting on the back of the couch.

You nervously munched on the popcorn as the movie played. Tommy was helping himself to some as well as Vince. Nikki and Mick were too engrossed in the film and drinking to concern themselves with popcorn. The movie wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be at first. It was pretty interesting and Leatherface had yet to make an appearance. You were all good till the sounds of a chainsaw came into play. You gripped the bowl of popcorn and winced as you watched it all play out. It didn’t really show anything, thank goodness, but it still freaked you out. The ending of the movie was what really did it for you. Leatherface going after that girl with the chainsaw and running wild with it...it was so freaky.

“Y/N, you good?” Mick asked you when he noticed the look on your face.

“What?” You asked him as you glanced over at him. “Yeah, I’m all good. What’s next?”

“We’re all pretty tired so we thought we would call it a night,” Nikki said as he stood from the chair and stretched.

Your eyes widened slightly at the prospect of going home...alone. Sure, Mick would drive you home, but you would be all alone after that with no roommates or anyone.

“Why?” You quickly asked. “It’s still pretty early. We could watch a couple of more.”

“It’s after two in the morning, babe,” Tommy said. “We’re going to have to get in some actual band practice early tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you replied and frowned a bit as you put the bowl of popcorn down. “Well, do you think I could stay the night?”

“You freaked out after all those horror movies or something?” Vince jokingly asked as he stood up and chuckled.

“No,” you answered too quickly, which had all of the guys looking at you. You cleared your throat and tried to recover from your reply. “I mean, no...of course not. Just felt like staying over is all.”

“If you say so,” Vince said and shrugged, not seeming convinced.

“You can bunk with me, Y/N,” Tommy said with a smirk as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’ll keep you safe, babe.”

“I am not sharing a bed with you again, Tommy,” you replied and shook his arm away. “You fucking snore. Also, I woke up with something pressed against my back the last time and it was not my most pleasant wake up call.”

Nikki and Vince sniggered as Mick shook his head with an amused grin nonetheless. Tommy wore an offended look, but you knew he wasn’t truly hurt. You were all always poking fun at each other. Nikki offered for you to crash with him in his room since he didn’t have to share it with anyone else. You accepted his offer, happily. You gave Mick a hug before he made his way out of the apartment through the window.

The rest of you retired to the bedrooms. Nikki gave you one of his few clean shirts to wear so you changed into it as he went into the bathroom. You were already laying in bed when he came back in in just his underwear. He switched the light off before he climbed into bed with you. It wasn’t awkward to be sleeping with him in such a way. It wouldn’t be the first time and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. You’d been friends with him for a while with nothing happening between the two of you much to your dismay. You even knew him back when he still went by Frank.

“So chainsaws freak you out then?” Nikki asked in amusement as you both laid there.

“Shut up, Nikki,” you told him and you could hear him chuckle.

“Better come snuggle up to me,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe from Leatherface. He could hang out around here with how sketchy this area of town is. He seems to go for pretty young things after all. Likes wearing their faces.”

“Shut up, Nikki!” You exclaimed and turned over to him, punching his arm. “You’re not safe either cause you’re pretty too, you bastard! Prettier than me even!”

Nikki laughed and you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the grin on your own face. You ended up scooting in close to him, however, and he wrapped his arms around you in return. It was comforting and nice laying there with him like that. You’d harbored feelings for the man for a while, but never acted upon them.

“This is nice,” Nikki said and you looked at him, being able to see him through the bit of moonlight coming from his window.

“What?” You asked. “Laying here and being afraid that I’m going to hear the noise of a chainsaw any minute now?”

“No,” Nikki replied and chuckled. “Just laying here with you. I like when you sleep over. It just feels right laying here with you.”

You blushed at his words, not knowing what to say to them. You hadn’t expected that to come from Nikki Sixx. He looked back at you with a smile and you smiled back. You both started leaning into each other more and your lips were about to meet before his door busted open. You jumped away and looked, finding Tommy running in.

“Leatherface is after me, help!” He yelled as Vince ran in as well with some sort of deli meat on his face acting as a mask.

“I’ll make you fucking think Leatherface you bunch of assholes!” You yelled and threw pillows at them both before you jumped out of bed, running after them.

Nikki stayed put in the bed and smiled as he rest his hands behind his head, hearing his two bandmates scream as you inflicted whatever sort of pain on them. “That’s my girl.”