#and the fourth one is his last little push over the deep end and officially becomes the First Kizuki and gets that special brand of crazy

[lesbiansanemi]

I’m gonna make it through the rest of Kyojuro’s backstory for this damn role swap AU even if it fucking kills me

[stevethehairington]

smoking has always been a good ice breaker, in eddie's opinion, a good way to get loose around someone and let all the awkward pre-getting-to-know-each-other jitters out.

so he invites steve over one day to smoke with him. it's towards the beginning of their newfound friendship, and eddie figures it'll be a good way to ease into it.

it goes well, in the sense that the joint mellows them both out enough that they're able to just talk about anything and nothing, and the ice is officially, properly broken.

eddie keeps inviting steve after that. and it's around maybe the third or fourth time they're hanging out, smoking that eddie notices it. notices the way steve's eyes keep flickering down to his lips. the way he'll catch himself and look away, but it won't last long before his gaze is back, lingering. at first eddie thinks maybe steve is just watching the joint. but when it keeps happening even after eddie has passed steve the joint, he reevaluates. eddie doesn't make a comment about it, but he does make note of it. files that piece of information away for another time.

the next time they smoke together, eddie notices it again. it makes something in his chest feel a little bit buoyant, that it wasn't just some one off thing. so this time, he lets himself look back. watches the way steves mouth wrap around the end of the joint, watches the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips, watches as he speaks, as he forms words and lets them loose. he isn't sure if steve notices or not.

it isn't until the next time they're smoking together that eddie decides to do anything about it. the joint is nearly at the end, and eddie stubs it out in the ashtray between them. steve is sprawled on his back on eddie's bed, one hand behind his head, the other resting against his stomach. he's just staring up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, basking in his high. until eddie shifts on the bed, inching closer. the movement has steve's head lolling to the side, to see what eddie's up to. they're nearly nose to nose like that, and steve doesn't flinch away from the closeness. just breathes and blinks, and then his eyes flicker, down to eddie's mouth and back up to his eyes, so quick eddie would have missed it if he hadn't been paying attention. he takes that as the permission it is, and slowly, slowly, closes the distance. his nose does bump into steve's, mouth hovering just before steve's, waiting for the rejection, waiting for the "what the fuck man?", waiting for the shove away. but none of that comes. what does come is steve's mouth, pushing forward to press against eddie's.

the kiss is honey sweet and molasses slow. it starts off a little tentative, just lips slotting together, steve's bottom lip fitting perfectly between eddie's. but then steve's mouth falls open, just a little bit, just enough, and eddie takes advantage, presses in, bites down on steve's lower lip and earns himself a fluttery gasp. his tongue eases across the bite, soothing, and licks in.

steve shifts on the bed, rolling towards eddie, and his hand comes up to tangle in eddie's curls.

there's nothing but the soft, wet sounds of their mouths together and their gasped breaths filling the room, and the low static of the record that had come to its end well before this started.

when they eventually pull apart, steve's lips are redredred and glistening, a little bit swollen and a lot enticing. eddie feels out of breath in the best way possible. there's a deep flush to steve's cheeks, and a few strands of his hair droop into his eyes. he flops onto his back, eyes trained on the ceiling once more. his chest rises and falls, quick, until it slows to normal again. beside him, eddie watches. waits for the moment to splinter - it usually always splinters.

except it doesn't. steve just props his head against his arm again and goes, "you want to smoke another?"

they do, and he doesn't say anything about the kiss. neither does eddie. it's like it never even happened.

steve doesn't bring it up, not when they see each other next, at a group outing to the wheeler's basement for board games and pizza with the kids. he doesn't bring it up when eddie swings by family video to rent a few horror flicks. he doesn't bring it up when they run into each other at the store.

so the next time steve comes over to smoke up, eddie decides to not bring it up either. whatever.

except when the joint burns down to the end this time, steve leans across eddie's torso to stub it out into the ashtray, and instead of settling back into his space on his side of the bed, he cups his hand to eddie's jaw and tugs him in for a kiss. it surprises the hell out of eddie, but he doesn't stop it from happening. does quite the opposite in fact.

and it's like, after that, a dam breaks.

every time steve comes over to smoke, it starts with a joint and ends with the two of them lazily making out in eddie's bed. every single time.

and eddie knows it's nothing more than skyhigh making out. that he's just a warm mouth for steve's drug addled mind and body to turn to. he knows that it's not anything steve would want to do if he were stone cold sober. he's not like that. not like eddie. doesn't seek this sort of thing out outside of this. eddie thinks he's okay with it. he likes steve, but he values his friendship too. and if this is the only way he can have steve without completely losing him, he'll take it. it's probably a little bit pathetic, but he can't help it.

most times they make it through the entire joint before one of them initiates, but more and more frequently, steve has been plucking the joint from eddie's fingers when it's only three quarters of the way through, or sometimes even when it's barely halfway gone.

eddie doesn't think anything of that, until there comes a short stretch of time where steve isn't able to come over for a while, and they don't get high together for like a week and a half.

steve calls to tell him that he's finally able to come over for that joint and that he'll be there later this evening.

when the telltale knock come, eddie throws the door open, holding up the joint and his lighter, a greeting and some cheeky comment about it on the tip of his tongue. but before he gets the chance to share it, steve is crowding into his space, hands coming up to frame eddie's face, and then he's kissing him.

and it absolutely knocks eddie onto his ass. metaphorically, of course. in reality, steve has backed him into the kitchen counter, pinning him there with the full press of his body as he kisses him like he's a dying man in the desert and eddie is the last drink of water.

it takes a moment for the engine of eddie's brain to kickstart again, but once it does his own hands come up to grip steve's waist, holding him there against his body, and his mouth returns the kiss, just as fervently.

when steve finally pulls back, time slows back down. the confidence steve entered the trailer with seems to recede a little bit, but it leaves something softer in its place. "hi," steve says,

eddie's head is spinning. "that was... that was some way to say hi," he laughs.

"yeah well," steve starts, shrugs, meets eddie's eyes again. "i missed you," he says, knocking the air out of eddie's chest once more.

"you missed me?" eddie repeats, like maybe he'd misheard. then adds, "or did you miss my weed?"

steve blows out a laugh through his nose and shakes his head. "i mean, yeah maybe, sure, i missed your weed too. but i missed you."

eddie wonders if steve maybe got started without him.

"dude, are you high?" he blurts out.

steve's brows furrow, and the smile on his face falters a little. he glances to the right, then to the left, and steps back, as if he'd only just realized how close he was to eddie. how he's still pressed up against him.

"i'm not high," steve answers. "why?"

eddie chews on the inside of his cheek, debating how to approach this. best to just rip the band aid off, right? "it's just... we don't," he points a finger between the two of them, "we don't really... do that... y'know?"

"do... what?" steve asks, confused or just trying to get eddie to say it.

eddie clears his throat and winces a little. "uh, kiss," he grits out. "we don't really kiss."

steve blinks at him.

"i mean," eddie continues, "not when we're not, y'know," he draws his hand through the air above his head and makes a whistling noise like an airplane, "sky high."

"oh," steve says, ducking his head, but not before eddie sees the scarlet creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.

steve stares down at his shoes for a few moments, and eddie lets him, lets the silence fill the space between them until it's thick.

finally, steve looks up again. he looks worried, almost scared, like whatever he's about to say could have repercussions neither one of them may be ready for. he opens his mouth anyways. "do you... do you want that, to be something... something we do? when we're not high?"

eddie's heart jumps to his throat. he watches steve with round eyes, trying to get a read on him, trying to see what the safest bet is here. he can't fucking tell. so he puts up his shield, deflects. "do you?"

steve swallows. his tongue darts out to wet his lips. he watches eddie right back. then he kind of laughs. just a small chuckle, and it seems like he's laughing at himself, more than anything. then he steps forward, back towards eddie again, toe to toe. he still looks nervous, but there's something steely about the look on his face. steve's always been good at that. at being brave. "you have to know, i haven't exactly been coming around for your weed, eddie," he says.

and eddie's hears him, but he isn't sure he really hears him. not right away. if steve wasn't coming here for the weed then what the hell was he coming for? it certainly wasn't the riveting conversation. or the fantastic interior design. or the - oh.

his realization is obvious in the amusement that paints itself onto steve's features. and eddie feels a little ridiculous, because every time he imagined something like this playing out it was never like this. he was never the one waiting to be filled in.

he points a finger between steve and himself, the question balancing on his tongue, but steve is already nodding. and taking another step closer, back into eddie's space.

"you don't care about the weed?" eddie repeats.

"i really don't," steve says, leaning in.

"you... you want to kiss me?" eddie asks, and he feels a little dizzy from it.

"i really want to kiss you," steve confirms, breath warm against eddie's cheek.

"jesus christ," eddie mumbles, overwhelmed.

"you can just call me steve," steve teases, and his nose bumps into eddie's. "i'm going to kiss you now, if that's alright."

and it's like eddie's brain finally decides to wake the hell up, because his arms move to curl around the back of steve's neck, fingers sliding into his hair, and he uses the newfound leverage to pull steve in and kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.

and as much as eddie loved kissing steve amongst the clouds, kissing him with a clear head is twice as good. it's like everything that had been muted before is now in full technicolor, crisp and sharp and so so good. steve's mouth is warm and soft, sweet and clever. his kiss sends tingles down to the tips of eddie's toes. his hands burn through the fabric of eddie's shirt, and eddie craves his touch.

when they finally part, eddie can't help the laugh that bubbles up as he knocks his forehead against steve's, resting there.

"so," he starts, tipping back just enough to properly look into steve's eyes again, "does this mean we're on the same page now?"

steve laughs too, grin splitting his face. "i'd say so."

"cool," eddie says, "really really cool."

a quiet settles between them now, but this time it isn't uncomfortable or awkward or weighted. it's comfortable, easy, punctuated with the way they're just smiling at each other, like they're both taking it in that this is happening.

and then, "so, wanna get high and make out some more?"

"fuck yeah, let's do it."

[matwith1t]

A/N: Back with angst 👊 Fair warning, this fic is pure angst. All of it 🔪 It’s heavily inspired by Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, and it’s the fic where I project my fear of staying stagnant in life (oops). I have a somewhat working outline for a part 2, but I’d love to know your thoughts!! Also, this fic has a brief smut scene, so if you’re not 18+ hop on over to my masterlist for something else !

Summary: Your long-term relationship with Mat brought you more happiness than anything else in the world. But one day, something in your gut felt different, an emotion that you couldn’t quite place felt off. And maybe, that feeling was the catalyst for you wanting a change in life.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Smut, Swearing // WC: 11.2K // Angst

The sun felt warm against your face and the grass beneath you tickled your ankles. With the month of May nearing its end, the sweet smell of spring could still be detected in the air during the seasonal transition to summer. From a distance, the soft sounds of children laughing while running through the park tugged your lips upward into a small smile.

A sense of ease flooded your body as you laid directly on the grass with your arms tucked behind your head. The vital force that came with being outside in the springtime energized your body to the point where you felt your body produce more natural endorphins. You treasured the outdoors––it would always remain a sacred place for you––but as you laid upon the grass, an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach clawed its way up at a deliberately slow, and unwarranted, pace.

It felt like a secret message your body was trying to communicate with you, but you didn’t have the tools on how to decode it.

The feeling came in and out, like ocean tides, but you did your best to push it aside when the uneasiness surfaced. So far, everything in your life had been smooth sailing––everything had been going according to plan––so you never paid that feeling any attention.

There wasn’t anything in your life that you wanted to change.

With a deep breath, you tried to inhale as much of the fresh spring air as possible.

“Hey, sleepy.”

With one eye squinted open, you brought a hand from behind your head to shield the sun rays from blinding your face. And when your vision adjusted to the sunlight, you saw your boyfriend at an upside down angle. In his arms he held a blanket as he waved down at you. A smile instantly graced your lips as you shut both of your eyes, before opening them slowly.

As Mat shook out the blanket before spreading it out on the grass, you sat up, and stuck your legs straight out, “You’re a bit late.”

Without looking at you, Mat rolled his eyes, “Practice ran late.”

When the blanket was laid out on the grass, Mat sat down and patted the spot next to him. With a smile, you made your way to sit next to him. Your smile widened when you saw he already had an arm raised for you to tuck yourself into his side.

“It was a morning practice,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “It’s nearly four in the afternoon.”

With adoration in his eyes shining just as bright as the spring sun, you felt yourself fall more in love with him. His hand dangled over your shoulder as he  lazily traced circles on your upper arm, “Tito wanted ice-cream.”

A laugh of amusement, mixed with disbelief, escaped your lips as you placed both hands on his chest to push him away, “You liar.”  

With your shove, Mat tightened his arm around your shoulder as the two of you fell backward on the blanket laughing. As you laid on your side, Mat readjusted his arm around you, with your head on his shoulder. His sweatshirt felt soft, and his chest continued to shake with laughter.

“Practice did run late,” Mat reiterated his first point, to which you only hummed in acknowledgement, “And then Tito said he wanted ice-cream, but he wanted to go to this specific shop.” Mat placed a kiss on your temple, “Would’ve told him to go alone if I knew how much time it’d take.”

Again, you hummed, as you rested a hand on his stomach, “Did you at least tell your boyfriend that your girlfriend said hi?”

Mat scoffed at your remark and poked your stomach in retaliation. You laughed at his childish behavior and moved a bit down the blanket so your head now rested just below his heart. He pulled you closer to him, and with your face nuzzled into his sweatshirt, you took a deep breath and savored how much his sweatshirt smelled like home to you.

He smelled almost as good as spring.

The hand that you had on his stomach rose up and down with his even breathing. And as you laid outside on the grass, surrounded by the spring air and the person you loved most in your life, you felt nothing but peace. Comfortable silence wasn’t uncommon in your relationship. While his voice soothed your most anxious thoughts… hearing the birds sing their melodies, listening in on the slight rustle of tree leaves whenever the wind blew, and the sound of steady breathing, paired with Mat’s slightly faster heartbeat, was more calming than anything.

“I can’t wait until that’s us.”

You peered up at Mat to see his vision locked in on something to his right. In order to see what he was referring to, you propped your chin up on his chest. It didn’t take you long to see that something was really a someone. And upon squinting to get a better look, that someone turned out to be a man, woman, and a child.

Your only response to him was a hum as you traced shapes on his stomach, hoping that your touch was strong enough to distract him from the conversation you knew he was about to bring up.

“I love you,” his words were strong, not faltering in the slightest, as he stared down at you with a promising look in his eyes. He picked up your hand––ultimately putting a stop to what you had hoped would distract him from this exact conversation––and pressed a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “So much.”

Mat gently placed your still connected hands on his stomach as you craned your neck up to press a kiss to his cheek, “I love you, too.”

He squeezed your hand twice, a look of amazement in his eyes as he stared up at the sky with a soft smile, “In a few months, It’ll be six years since we’ve been together.”

Your head softly fell back onto his chest as you nodded. Because while you’ll be celebrating six years of officially being in a relationship, the two of you had known each other much longer. He was the annoying kid at the end of the cul-de-sac who chased you around front yards and threatened to give you cooties. And you were the little girl who ran away from him, pretending to be disgusted whenever he got too close, but secretly loved his attention.

And that’s when your crush on him began.

From playing group games with other kids at neighborhood block parties, pairing up to sit next to each other on the bus in elementary school during field trips, to Mat asking you to the winter formal in eighth grade on a dare…Your infatuation towards him only grew.

By the time you were both eighteen, Mat realized his feelings, and asked you out on a date.

Playing games with other kids went to spending one-on-one time with Mat on dates. Sitting next to each other on the school bus as little kids went to Mat picking you up in his car as teenagers. And going to dances together was no longer the end product of a dare.

Even when Mat went to Seattle to play hockey, the two of you still kept the connection while you stayed in Canada. The four years of University were easier; with Mat playing for the New York Islanders, and your top choice for school was in New York City, it didn’t take more than a second thought to accept the offer.

As if Mat had the same memories playing on an endless loop in his head, he let out a relaxed breath, “I can’t wait until we buy a house, tell our kids how we met, and take them to this park.”

The uncomfortable familiar feeling you felt earlier in the afternoon creeped up your stomach, “You really have it all planned out.”

“I have our life,” he squeezed your hand as he made a point to emphasize a shared future between the two of you, “planned out.”

You were positive he could feel your heartbeat increase. And while the pounding of your heart could easily be mistaken for the heightened feelings you felt whenever you were near Mat, you knew something else was causing this distress. There was no one in the world you loved more than Mat. You loved your family because they were family, but you made a conscious decision to love him. And despite some hardships, he chose to love you as well.

But thinking about the future made you squirm.

A future with Mat was all you ever desired. You knew he was the one person in the universe made for you when you were halfway through university. And you were pretty sure Mat knew you were his person by the fourth date.

You still kept some of your notebooks that had doodles in the margin. The psychology notebook from junior year of high school had Mat Barzal, with hearts dotting around his name, in every blank space. And even in university, your senior year thesis notebook had script writing of your name paired with his last name, so you could practice a potential new signature for the future.

Since the seventh grade, this was everything you daydreamed about with Mat; a future together. Happiness always fogged up your mind whenever you thought about a lifetime together with him, you wanted this, but everything felt like it was approaching faster than anticipated. And the undisclosed feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t going away no matter how hard you tried to only think about a happy future with Mat.

Wanting to feel anything other than whatever made your stomach churn, you leaned up to press a lingering kiss to Mat’s jaw. Then you pressed another kiss to his neck, and another further down at the base of his throat. With each kiss you pressed to his skin, the feeling subsided more.

When you detached your lips from his skin and sat up, you heard him let out a discontent hum. With his eyes closed, he wasn’t aware of the adoration in your eyes as you looked down at him. You studied everything about his face; the slight pink coloring on his cheeks despite it almost being summertime, the downward curve on the bridge of his nose, and how he somehow still had a slight smile on his face when he wasn’t awake.

A satisfied silent sigh passed through your lips as your index finger trailed across his silver chain. The jewelry felt cold on your fingertips, but with the way Mat still had a hand holding onto yours, your whole body burned like a furnace. Unable to resist the pull you felt toward him any longer, you leaned down and pressed an innocent kiss to his lips. You lifted your head up, pulling your lips away from his, but Mat brought his free hand to gently lay on your cheek as he lifted his head up slightly to bring you back into a kiss.

It was soft, delicate, and reminded you of the first kiss you shared after your second date outside of his car when he dropped you off in front of your house.

With his thumb caressing your cheek, his fingers curled around your neck to bring your lips closer to his. And as you smiled into the kiss, he slowly lifted himself up until he was properly sitting. You pulled away from the kiss again, not wanting to get carried away while in public, but Mat followed your lips and kissed them one last time.

Your hand that was on his shoulder slowly inched toward the back of his neck where you played with the ends of his hair. He leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “Wanna get pizza?”

You threw your head back in laughter and Mat dropped his head into the crook of your neck, wrapping an arm around your waist for a hug. Leaning into the hug, you continued to thread your fingers through his hair, “Yeah, pizza sounds good.”

“Good,” Mat pressed a featherlight kiss under your jaw as he unwound his arms from around you to stand up. He reached a hand out for you, and with a smile, you placed your hand in his as he pulled you up.  

Once on your feet, he tugged on your arm so that you were pressed flat against his chest, caught in another hug. Never one to deny any of his hugs, you wrapped your arms around his waist as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His arms were strong and his body felt warm. You melted into his touch like you had for the past five––almost six––years.

But then his stomach grumbled, and you leaned away from him with an amused smile on your face, “Pizza?”

Mat smiled back down at you and nodded, “Pizza,” he said matter of factly as he unwrapped his arms from you and began to fold up the blanket.

When he had the blanket draped over his arm, he reached his hand out again for you to take. Happily, you slid your hand into his, as the two of you began to walk through the park to a pizza place down the street.

The pace of your walk was slow. Normally you wouldn’t mind a slow pace, but it was making the unknown and unwelcome feeling creep back up in your stomach. The feeling seeped through every crevice of your body as Mat recounted a story of how he almost got hit in the face with a puck at practice. And the feeling wedged itself deeper and deeper into the middle of your chest until you arrived at the pizza place.

“Your eyes look pretty today,” Mat offhandedly said as the two of you slid into a table after ordering.

You tilted your head, shoulders instantly relaxing at the sound of his voice, as a soft smile slowly made its way onto your face that was brighter than the sun the two of you just sat under.

You propped your elbows up on the table, resting your chin on your hands, as you looked at the love of your life with nothing but fascination, “Your eyes always look pretty.”

Mat reciprocated your beaming smile.

And the unknown feeling vanished.

–––

The spring air dwindled away and the crisp air of autumn slowly began to replace the weather associated with new beginnings. Even though the seasons changed, the heaviness in your chest you felt in May was still present in September. No matter what you did, or who you spent time with, the feeling continued to grow until it latched onto your deepest insecurities. And it wasn’t until you had an honest conversation with your best friend that she told you the feeling was anxiety.

Anxiety.

What did you have to be anxious about? What was so terrible in your life that made you nauseous in the mornings, kept you up until the late hours of the night, and had you constantly bouncing your leg up and down while sitting? Your life had been going exactly according to plan––exactly how you thought you wanted it to go. All you wanted was for it to disappear, but you couldn’t pinpoint what made you anxious. Which made it hard to try and control the feeling.

But there was one thing you did that proved successful in making the anxiety subside.

With your bare chest pressed up against Mat’s, his fingertips slightly digging into the skin of your hips, you rested your head in the crook of his neck as you inhaled a sharp breath. You had just experienced a shuddering orgasm on his lap, but he wasn’t quite finished.

Mat wrapped an arm around your body and flipped you over. You opened your eyes briefly to see him crawling up your body, adjusting himself in this new position. With raised eyebrows, he offered you a soft smile. And after you gave him verbal confirmation you wanted him again, he nudged your legs apart and guided himself in. You hadn’t fully recovered from the previous act of shared intimacy, but that didn’t matter to you.

The only thing that mattered was getting rid of the tortuous feeling that consumed you.

But when your hips met, and you heard Mat inhale a sharp breath, the feeling lessened.

You always looked forward to that––Mat’s breathless smile when your pelvic bones first connected in a deep thrust. There were other things, too. You knew things about Mat that nobody else knew. Like how Mat always crinkled his nose when he first became aroused. How his biceps were especially ticklish if you dragged your fingertips across them. How it drove him crazy when you would wrap your legs around him, hooking him in to pull him closer. Or how Mat would press a lingering kiss to your cheek when he was perilously close to the edge.

And it was that last movement that brought you out of your head––Mat pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek.

With a ragged breath, you trailed a hand up his arm––skipping his biceps––and curled an arm around his neck. Your fingers delicately moved up his neck as you weaved your fingers through his hair, and then slowly let your hand drag to the side of his face; cupping his cheek. And with a series of quick, deep thrusts with Mat on top, was all it took for your walls to clench around him as you lost your breath momentarily.

As you rode out the high of your orgasm, Mat was close behind. With a few more thrusts, you knew he released when his movements slowed down with a few snaps of his hips. After he inhaled a deep breath and released it through his nose, Mat rested his forehead against yours and then opened his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered unintelligibly while trying to catch his breath.

You rubbed your thumb over his cheek, “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, nuzzling his head into the palm of your hand, before a shy smile broke through. With a gentle peck to your lips, Mat rolled off you and quickly disposed of the condom before rolling back into bed.

When Mat was back at your side, he propped himself up with his elbow and stared down at you. Shuffling a bit down the pillow, you pulled the sheets up to your neck and peered up at him. With his free hand, he took one of your hands and lazily played with your fingers. He went from slowly moving his fingers between yours, to his fingertips leisurely moving from the bottom of your palm to the tips of your fingers. And when he had done that for a few moments, he started tracing the lines on the inside of your palm.

The only sound in the room was the two of you silently breathing; basking in each other's presence after a few moments of shared intimacy. Even in the silence, all you heard was him whispering I love you on repeat in your mind.

Every time he said those words to you felt like the first time. And even hearing the echo of them from your memory caused a scintillating smile to unashamedly grow on your face. You diverted your gaze from him playing with your hand to look at him.

Mat’s eyes were already focused on you.

His eyes were the first thing you fell in love with. You didn’t know if you fell in love with him when you were twelve years old; when his wide, nervous eyes offered you a stick and asked if you’d to join his team for street hockey. Or when you were nineteen; when his earnest eyes were bloodshot as he confided in you that he was scared of losing the connection of your relationship when he went to Seattle. No matter what emotion he held in his eyes, you always loved them.

And even now, his eyes were soft. His eyes were so full of love, but there was another emotion swimming around in his eyes that you had only seen before he asked you out; longing.

You didn’t know what he was longing for as he stared at you. A creased formed in between his eyes as he scrunched his eyebrows together. Removing the arm you had under the pillow, you raised your hand and rubbed the crease until his eyebrows relaxed. He offered you a small smile, but this smile was more one of concern rather than happiness.

Like you did earlier when Mat was on top of you, you trailed your fingers down his cheek until you cupped the side of his face with your palm. Slowly, you caressed his cheek with your thumb.

“Are you alright?” Mat whispered.

It was your turn for your eyebrows to scrunch together and a crease to form between them. And while you momentarily retracted your hand from his face, you snapped out of your shock, and moved your hand up to brush a piece of loose hair out of his face. The piece of hair didn’t stay in its place, so you pushed it back once more, as you tried to distract yourself from the growing feeling of anxiety bubbling up in your stomach.  

The piece of hair continued to fall in front of his forehead, so you focused all of your concentration on making sure it stayed away, “Of course I am, why?”

Mat shrugged his shoulders. And he took your hand that pushed his hair back and intertwined your fingers together, “You seem a little…off.”

You snorted, “We just had sex twice,” your facial expression held a serious look, but your tone of voice was teasing, “Are you complaining?”

Mat let out a breathy laugh as he squeezed your hand, “That’s not––That was incredible––Really really good––definitely not complaining,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I feel like I can say I know you better than anyone else, and…I don’t know.” His eyes dropped to your intertwined hands, and he tried his hardest to force a smile before looking back at you, “It feels like something’s been up the past few days.”

Few months, you wanted to correct him.

You shook your head, trying to ease both of your nerves, “I uh––I’m thinking of looking at grad schools?” you let the little white lie easily slip, “But I’m not seriously looking, it was just a thought.”

Mat playfully rolled his eyes, “Knew something was up,” he brought your connected hands up to his lips to press a reassuring kiss to the top of your hand, “If you do seriously consider grad school, you’re probably the most well off person to apply.” At his confidence in you, you tucked your chin into your chest.

“It’s just…” you inhaled a shaky breath, wanting to come clean about your unknowing anxiety, but something held you back, “I don’t know.”

Mat dropped your hand and slowly stroked the side of your face with the back of his hand, “It’s a lot to think about. But there are plenty of great schools in New York,” when his lips turned upward in a smile, you felt your stomach drop, “Whatever you want, we’ll figure it out together.” Mat pressed a kiss to your cheek, “We have all the time in the world.”

His voice, full of optimism, matched the hopefulness behind his eyes, and his smile finally met his eyes. And the longer you stared into his eyes, you saw a glint of something you had never seen before; devotion.

You don’t know when it happened, but you accepted the fact that you would marry Mat––spend the rest of your life with him. There was no lengthy discussion, but there seemed to be mutual acceptance. Mat always spoke so passionately about starting a family with you when he saw a toddler run around the park. And whenever you drove past a house you liked, you always made a passing comment about how nice it would be to raise a family with him.

You wondered when you started to feel so uncomfortable with the feeling of security.

–––

The month of September was slightly better, but not by much. The anxiety was still present and you kept Mat in the dark about everything. But it was difficult to confide in him when you didn’t even know the root of the problem. You couldn’t pinpoint the cause of anxiety, and you thought the feeling would disappear in June.

But it was now October and your anxiety had escalated to suffocation.

Suffocation.

It felt like there was a bag of twenty-pound rocks tied to your ankles and you were drowning. When you didn’t feel like you were drowning, you felt as if someone was smothering you with a pillow. And when you finally felt free from the smothering, it felt as though someone had cut off your air supply. But there was one thing that temporarily relieved the feeling of suffocation.

And it came with an acceptance email from Georgetown University in Washington D.C.

When you applied to a handful of universities to continue your education, you thought your anxiety was based around a fear of not excelling to your full potential. So, with that in mind, you took the little white lie you told Mat a few months ago and applied exclusively applied to grad schools only in New York City. But a program at Georgetown caught your eye and it was the only school outside of New York you applied to. You hoped for the best, but deep down you had a gut feeling the prestigious school in D.C. would reject you.

But when you received a fairly large envelope in the post, one that was not the size of a rejection letter, you felt a brief moment of freedom.

It is with great pleasure that we offer you admission…

You had read the opening line of the letter ten times before skimming the rest of the offer letter. The amount of confidence and pride you felt swell up in your chest was short lived. Because your new friend, suffocation, quickly swallowed up those feelings.

You had never considered moving out of New York––never considered moving away from Mat––but here you were, internally debating with yourself on whether you should take this offer seriously.

There was too much going on in your head––too much going on in the city––as you walked down the sidewalk. Every step you took toward your home felt like walking on a tightrope.

You had a university acceptance offer…Step one…The university was nearly 300 miles away from Mat…Step two…You had other university acceptance offers for school’s in New York…Step three…But the anxiety only grew when you received acceptance letters from schools in New York…Step four…And all of the anxiety went away with the D.C. offer…Step five…Does Mat have something to do with your anxiety––

You didn’t let yourself finish the last thought.

Mat was your person. There was not a chance the universe would play such a cruel trick on you. Life wasn’t fair, but life wouldn’t rip you away from Mat.

Right before you entered your apartment building, you dug out your phone and called your best friend. Once she picked up, you begged to spend the night at her place, saying you needed to get out of the city. She agreed, but you heard the curiosity behind her voice.

Knowing that mat would be waiting in your apartment, you hurriedly hung up before entering the elevator. The ride up was daunting, and the lights that blinked whenever you rose to a new floor felt as if they taunted you. They were yellow and bright, something you had not felt in quite some time, but the lights didn’t care as they flashed in your face.

When the doors parted open to your floor, you scurried out and opened the door to your apartment. You breezed right in before you changed your and decided to drive straight to Newark.

As expected, Mat sat slumped against the couch cushions as he pointed the remote at the television. He couldn’t seem to pick a channel that held his interest. When he heard the door open, he turned his head and you offered him a small wave as you set your bag on the floor.

“Good day?”

You shrugged your shoulders and walked over to sit next to Mat on the couch, “Average,” you leaned your head on his shoulder, “How was your day?”

Mat mimicked your shrug, “Just practice. Uneventful.”

You let out a snort, “What thrilling lives we live.”

That earned a loud laugh from Mat, “Exhilarating,” he leaned over and kissed your forehead, “So, for dinner? We have stuff to cook, but there’s this new place a few blocks over I thought we could try––”

Lifting your head up from his shoulder, you moved away from him slightly as you brought your legs up to your chest, quickly cutting him off, “I’m actually––I’m going to Newark tonight.”

A few awkward beats of silence passed before Mat spoke with a cracked voice, “Oh?”

Nodding, you leaned your chin on your knees, “Haven’t seen Melanie in a while,” you mentioned your best friend, “Just need to get out of the city for the night.”

“Everything alright?”

Mat’s voice was laced with hesitance, as if he didn’t know if he wanted an answer to his question.

You gulped and hugged your legs closer to your chest, “Yeah I––It’s a girl’s night. We just need to clear our heads.”

Mat nodded in understanding. He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, “Clear your head,” he repeated cautiously as if he sensed there was an ulterior motive. He closed his eyes, and after a few more beats of silence, he opened them. And you felt your heartstrings tug in your chest when you saw the amount of yearning behind his stare.

“That’s…” he cleared his throat, and nodded his head slowly, as he looked at the television, “good.”

He didn’t phrase his words as a question, but they weren’t a statement either. It was Mat convincing himself that you leaving the city was fine…That you were fine…That the relationship was fine.

To ease his doubts––because there was nothing in your life that you were more certain of than your love for him––you took his hand, “It’s just for one night.” Your voice didn’t waver, and you spoke with double the confidence, hoping to transfer some of it to the boy who sat across from you.

“No, yeah that’s fine,” Mat bit the inside of his cheek, “Time with your friends is good.”

Mat never verbally recognized the small rift forming between you two, but in this moment, you knew he could feel it more than ever. And when you felt him pull his hand away from yours, you panicked and squeezed his hand twice. It caught his attention, and you smiled at him, “We’ll try out the new place tomorrow night for dinner.”

There was a far off look in his eyes, but he nodded in agreement.

Mat only using the bare minimum to communicate with you drove you up a wall. You didn’t like how he avoided conversation, and you didn’t like the feeling in your stomach that came with it. He’s disappointed in you, a voice in your head spoke up, you’re leaving him alone when you know he doesn’t feel confident about your relationship––

In order to silence the voice in your head, you did the only thing that you knew would keep it quiet.

You leaned forward, gently placing both of your hands on Mat’s cheeks, and kissed him. At first when he didn’t kiss back, you feared that you wouldn’t be lucky this time around to quiet your insecurities. The toxic coping mechanism you fell into every time wasn’t working. Panic rose through your body fast, and just when you were about to give up hope, he kissed you back.

A sigh escaped your lips as Mat pressed a hand firmly to your lower back to pull you closer.

You needed to be closer.

His hands carefully held your waist as your hands traveled from the sides of his face to the nape of his neck.

You needed to feel closer.

He kissed you harder, hands creeping up your shirt as he was always one to crave skin-to-skin contact. You let your hands delicately move down his neck to his shoulders––lifting your touch on his skin to avoid his biceps––and let your hands fall onto his chest.

Closer.

You needed to physically feel as close as possible to Mat; because emotionally, you felt as far away from him as ever.

–––

The forty-five minute drive from Long Island to Newark was filled with songs from the shared Spotify playlist you had with Mat. 

He created it when he first went off to play hockey in Seattle claiming it would be a fun way to stay updated with each other's lives. The playlist was full of songs that reminded either of you of each other, upbeat heavy rock songs that Mat listened to before a hockey game, or more mellow songs you heard in a coffee shop while studying.

Since Mat had started the tradition of creating a shared playlist each year, there was a new playlist for almost the entirety of your relationship. And on your lonesome drive to Newark, you pressed play on the playlist from 2015.

You left your apartment after a silent cuddle with Mat that lasted a few hours; legs tangled together, synchronized breathing, and featherlight touches. There was a moment where Mat removed his arms from your waist––he said he was cold––and asked if you had a sweatshirt he could borrow. Reluctantly, you got up and trudged to your room to look for a sweatshirt of his you once stole.

A black sweatshirt caught your eyes and you picked it up. The Seattle Thunderbirds logo printed on the front, you toyed with the hoodie strings, debating on if you wanted to give him his sweatshirt back. It was one of the first ones you sneakily stole from him in the beginning of your relationship. And as much as the sweatshirt was rightfully his, it had made a home in your drawer over the years.

Missing the way his arms felt wrapped around you, you walked back to the couch––Thunderbirds sweatshirt in hand––and offered it up to him. Mat quickly tugged it over his head, ruffling his hand through his already messed-up hair, and then pulled you down to lay next to him.

He left your apartment wearing the sweatshirt.

After replaying the memory of Mat walking out of your place with his sweatshirt, you found yourself at your best friend’s townhouse sooner than expected. She ushered you into her kitchen saying she was almost done boiling the kettle for tea.

The only words exchanged between the two of you so far was a greeting and barely there small talk. She didn’t push you as to why you frantically called her and begged for a night away from New York. But she anticipated that the conversation would come later in the night.

Once the teas were made to both of your likings, Melanie led you upstairs to her rooftop deck. A fond smile crossed your face as flashbacks from all the times the two of you had spent up here. The two of you had met in university, but she was a few years older than you, so she moved out of New York sooner than you.

Most of your deep conversations about Mat took place on this rooftop. From realizing you loved him on this rooftop to coming to terms that there was no one else you’d rather spend the rest of your life with… This rooftop held the realizations of multiple monumental moments of your relationship with Mat.

Next to the sectional couch the two of you sat on, Melanie lifted the lid of the wicker basket and plucked out two blankets. You quickly wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, bracing your body against the frigid air.

As Melanie adjusted the blanket over her shoulders, she spoke up, “Everything alright?”

You took a sip of tea, keeping your vision set straight ahead, “Yeah, I’m alright––it’s just…” you glanced over at her to see she had her eyes raised, silently telling you to rethink your answer, “I don’t know.”

Shoulders slumped over in defeat, you took another sip of tea.

“I think you’re far from fine,” Melanie chuckled, “Got a call from my best friend panicking about how she had to get away,” her voice waned off amusement and turned more serious, “You worried me.”

You nodded in understanding, “Sorry, I didn’t think––Sorry––It’s just everything…” you nervously itched your collarbone and let out a sigh, “Sorry.”

Melanie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Never apologize for what you’re feeling,” her eyes were soft, and full of concern, as she weakly smiled and headed carefully with her words, “Even if you don’t…know what you’re feeling.”

“I got accepted to Georgetown,” you blurted out as you kept your eyes trained on the ground.

Her eyes widened, and a genuine smile spread across her face, “That’s––Shit, congratulations! That’s so exciting! D.C.…Wow.”

With a slow nod of your head, you took a sip of your tea, “D.C.”

A brief silence in conversation revealed everything Melanie needed to know about why you suddenly had to escape from the city.

“Mat doesn’t know?”

You repeated her question as a statement, “Mat doesn’t know,” breaking eye contact with her again, you swallowed down your insecurities, “While like––I don’t know––That’s not why I’m…upset.” Melanie nodded and waited for you to continue your explanation, “Things have been…off.”

“Off? As in recently?” Melanie questioned as you stayed silent. With a deep sigh, she whispered, “How long have things felt off?”

You gulped, “May.”

Melanie’s eyes widened again, but not in the joyous sense like they had when you told her about your graduate school acceptance. Her eyebrows were raised high and her mouth slightly dropped open, “Shit, Y/N, it’s November.’

Again, you nodded and took another sip of tea, “It is November.”

“You’re going to have to do more talking than repeat the last words of every sentence I say.”

The words weren’t meant to be harsh, but her tone of voice still caused you to flinch. Her sentence was the truth, and you didn’t come here to be coddled. You needed someone to be brutally honest with you to help bring you to a conclusion. And you knew you had to offer up more information, or else your little one-night escape away from the city would be pointless.

“I feel stuck,” you breathed out, the last word barely a whisper, as you felt your throat close up, “I feel stuck and I’ve felt this way since May. I don’t know why I feel like this and I really don’t know what to fucking do, Mel. I––I’m so scared.”

Melanie scooted closer to you, “Stressed about potentially going back to school?”

You shook your head immediately. The thought of going back to school was the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. You couldn’t wait to expand upon another area of study that interested you. And you had been feeling this way long before you entertained the idea of going back to school.

“Everything is going so so well with Mat and…I don’t know…I’m happy with how things are now, but––“

“You’re obviously not happy if you can’t talk to him about this,” Melanie cut you off sharply before she inhaled a deep breath, “Maybe you need some change.”

You quirked an eyebrow up and tilted your head, “Change?”

She nodded and offered you a regretful smile; one that people had tucked away for when they had to break not so pleasant news to people they cared about, “Change from…how your life has been going.”

You continued to blankly stare at her as the dots didn’t connect in your mind. Melanie took your silence as a way to continue on with her explanation.

“Maybe D.C. is a great opportunity to start over.”

Suddenly, the crickets that chirped on her rooftop blared like alarms, the blanket you had on felt itchy, and the bitter autumn air smelt stale.

“Start…Over?” You shook your head no as Melanie nodded her head yes, “I have a life built around Mat and a––I have a future with him––That’s not––I can’t––“

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Melanie,” you pleaded with your best friend as the scratchiness behind your throat became uncomfortable, “I can’t do that to him––“

She held up a hand for you to stop talking, “You’ve been with mat since you were like twenty––“

“Eighteen,” you corrected her.

She shot you a glare and pretended like she wasn’t interrupted, “You were children when your relationship started,” she waved her free hand in the air, “There’s no denying that you’ve had a great relationship with him. The two of you have grown so much together, but sometimes things get stuck in a routine and people need a change.” You felt a lone tear trickle down your cheek, “Maybe you need a change.”

You carefully set your tea down on the glass patio table as all of the negative thoughts and feelings ventured out of their hiding places. One by one, they creeped out of every corner––no crevice too small––of your mind, as your subconscious tortured you with the lethal words they created.

With the heel of your palm, you wiped away more silent tears that couldn’t stop falling from your eyes.

Change was something you didn’t handle well. Change was something you’ve never liked. Your heart was saying that this kind of change––a change from Mat was bad––but your heart was screaming. Your heart was screaming about how exhausted it always felt suffocated. Your heart was telling you that there was another way. That you didn’t have to feel like this all the time––how you shouldn’t feel like this all the time.

You wanted to ignore how your heart felt and listen to your head. You wanted to ignore the heartbreaking gaze Melanie sent your way. And most of all, you wanted to ignore how your best friend had a very valid opinion.

You craved Mat’s presence now more than ever.

–––

November ended painfully slow and December came without a care for your feelings.

In the midst of juggling your job, figuring out technicalities that potentially came with continuing your education down in D.C., and keeping up with Mat’s hockey schedule…You were also trying to stabilize a relationship that you desperately clung on to.

Ever since your roof top conversation with Melanie, you felt the relationship crumbling on your end. And only a couple weeks later, Mat seemed hesitant around you. Every touch he gave you held doubt. Every night you went to bed, he shifted further to the other side. And every I love you was said with caution.

He was there physically, but emotionally, he was pulling away right before your eyes.

You loathed the situation that you had created for yourself and Mat. You absolutely hated how you no longer synced up. You wanted to go back to the way things were before the summer hit. You craved the smell of the spring air that was synonymous to the safety you felt in Mat’s presence.

Although, you don’t know how possible that was now.

Change.

Melanie nonchalantly brought up the topic of change whenever you called or saw her in person. She reassured you that she would support your decision––whenever you came to one––but she still favored the decision of change for you. She had your best interest at heart, and while you appreciated that, your best interest was entangled with Mat.

And you knew that the decision she wanted you to make was not in his best interest.

But there was one day in the past seven months that felt normal.

At work, you were offered a promotion. And that same night, the Islanders had their seventh straight win, with Mat scoring a hat trick. You walked out of your director’s office with a smile on your face, and you snuck down to the lobby to call Mat with the good news. He sounded ecstatic for you over the phone, and he asked if you wanted to go to the game tonight so he could see you right after.

Eagerly, you accepted his offer, and you felt butterflies churn in your stomach as if it was the first time he asked you to attend one of his games.

You rushed to get all of your work done as fast as possible, and a few minutes before the clock struck five, you dashed out of the office and made your way to the arena. The game felt electric, Mat played with a sense of newfound desire, and you were ecstatic for him to be playing so well. And when the game was over, and Mat walked out in his game day suit––jacket folded over his arm and tie loosely done––you barreled into him.

Mat hugged you back just as tight, if not tighter, and his reassuring touch reestablished a sense of purpose in your life.

“I’m so proud of you,” Mat whispered in your ear, congratulating you on your promotion, “I’ll love you forever.”

That day filled you with hope.

That day made you smile wider than you had in the last few months. It was a light finally shining through the dreary storm clouds. And that day helped you gain clarity as to what sort of change you needed in your life.

You decided that change was needed if you wanted to keep sane. And you had come to the compromise that you could have a change and still keep Mat. All you needed was a change of scenery. You didn’t know why you thought you needed an ultimatum between the two, and it eased your troubles a little bit, but not nearly as much as you thought it would.

The day after your promotion and Mat’s hat trick, you woke up with your legs tangled with Mat’s, his arm thrown over your waist, and his face facing yours for the first time in months. It was so domestic, something you took for granted early on in your relationship, but once you had it back in your grasp, you never wanted to let go.

But the moment you woke up, his arm around your waist felt like an anchor aiding in your drowning. While it felt as if you were drowning, you also felt safe in Mat’s arms, as if he lent you a hand for rescue. Mat always made you feel safe.

Unfortunately, that was a week ago. And you hadn’t woken up in his arms since then.

Ironically, even though both of you knew something was wrong, Mat had been spending more time at your apartment than his. But the dynamic between you two had shifted: Mat no longer came up to hug you from behind when you cooked at the stove. You no longer pinched Mat’s hips as he walked past you. And the two of you blushed profusely and looked the other way whenever you saw the other in a towel after a shower.

Things had been off emotionally for quite some time. But now physical aspects of your relationship were changing, and a piece fo your heart broke off every time you noticed it.

You wanted change, but not like this.

You were at the small table in your kitchen, waiting for Mat to come back to you. He mumbled about heading to the gym with Tito when the two of you were sitting next to each other on the couch. He tied his laces up, and it looked like he was about to walk toward the door before he turned back around and stood in front of you.

Like every time you stared up at Mat, you fell in love with him all over again.

He offered you the smallest of smiles before bending down to your height. Carefully, he cupped your face with his hand, and you immediately leaned into his touch. A peaceful sigh escaped your lips and your eyes closed.

What caught you off guard the most was when Mat leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. And just when your eyes opened, he broke away from the kiss. When his eyes finally opened, they were pleading with you. His eyes begged for an answer you could not give him. His eyes urgently wanted for you to tell him what had flipped your entire world upside down.

But his eyes were also full of love and hope; unconditional love for his high school sweetheart and hope that the two of you could make it over this bump.

“I love you,” he whispered just as soft as the first time he said those words to you, “I won’t be long.”

Desperate for more physical contact from him, you weaved your fingers through his brown hair. You knew how much he loved when you massaged his scalp and ran your fingers through his hair. Instantaneously, his eyes closed, and he leaned forward to brush his nose against yours.

You didn’t want him to go to the gym with Tito.

And like the first day you repeated those important three words back to him, your voice was filled with the same enchantment for the man in front of you, “I love you, too.”

With a sigh, Mat opened his eyes. With the way his eyebrows pinched together, you could tell he was intently debating something in his mind. But before you could pry, he seemed to go against his better judgement and pressed another kiss to your lips. While the kiss wasn’t anything special, he lingered longer than his first kiss.

“I’ll be back soon,” he breathed out softly.

He left before you could open your eyes.

Part of you didn’t want to open your eyes because the last thing you saw––that would be ingrained in your brain forever––was the person you appreciated and cared for most in the world, telling you he loved you. There was no better high in the world than that, especially when you had felt deprived from his love for so long.

But that was six hours ago.

You hoped he would only be gone for two or three hours, but your hope dwindled away with every hour that passed.

You were messing around with your laptop when you heard a key in the door handle. And when you heard the creak of your door open, you held your breath. You felt the inside of your stomach fall and the anxiety crawl up.

Once you looked up from your keyboard, you saw Mat already staring at you.

His cheeks were rosy, lips parted ever so slightly as he heavily breathed, and his forehead glistened with sweat. He held the water bottle in his hands as he stared through you. The way he looked at you was unnerving, and you wish you were able to read his mind.

“I love you, Y/N.”

His voice held conviction as he refocused his gaze to look at you instead of through you.

Slowly, you closed your laptop as Mat walked toward you. He placed the water bottle on the table and looked down at your doe eyed, questioning gaze, “I love you, but I need to know what’s wrong.”

“What––“

“I know you feel it too,” the determination and confidence behind his voice fell, “It’s been a few months and I can’t––we can’t––this?” his voice cracked, “We need to figure it out.”

You sniffled and started to nervously pick at a loose piece of skin by your thumb. Your eyes fell to your lap, not wanting to see the utter heartbreak in his eyes, “Let’s––Yeah. Let’s talk, okay.”

Mat crouched down in front of you, and took one of your fidgety hands in his, “Hey,” he used his other hand to tilt your chin up to look at him, “It’s just me…The guy who accidentally shattered your car window junior year when shooting a puck because I wanted to impress you,” he let out a sad chuckle, “Just…Me.”

You sucked in a deep breath, vigorously nodding your head, in hopes to delay your tears, “I know––And I––That’s what makes this so…” You let out a hiccup and squeezed your eyes shut just as hard as Mat squeezed your hand in reassurance, “Hard.”

Before a sob wracked through your chest, Mat was fast to stand up and pull you up with him, wrapping his arms around you. You fell into his chest and he held you close, running a soothing hand up and down your spine. He whispered that everything would be alright, but your arms only tightened around his neck as your sobs increased with his careful words.

After a few moments when your cries slowly started to calm down, Mat slightly leaned back, but made sure to keep his arms securely wrapped around you. He lazily traced patterns with his thumb on your lower back, which caused you to look up at him.

With all your heart, you wished you didn’t look into his eyes. Because seeing his red eyes and heart-rending smile caused you more pain than the last seven months.

He brought a hand up to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes with his thumb, “There’s my pretty girl,” he sniffled and failed at forcing a smile, “So pretty.”

You felt your bottom lip tremble, another wave of fresh tears waiting to be seen. And when Mat loosened his grasp around your waist, you looked up at him in panic. You didn’t want to be separated from him, but he shushed you, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you close as he guided you over to the couch.

Much like earlier in the day, the two of you sat on the couch together. But instead of laying together on the couch, he sat next to you.

With your thighs touching, Mat grasped your hand in his, “Talk to me,” his grip was so tight, it felt like he was afraid you would slip away right in front of him, “Please.”

You nodded your head again, but no words came out.

How were you supposed to start off this kind of conversation?

Mat squeezed your hand in reassurance, and before you began to overthink about the best way to phrase your feelings, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I feel anxious,” you let out a shaky breath.

Mat slowly nodded, squeezing your hand again as a silent way to encourage you to continue.

And with a deep breath, you shut your eyes tight, “I feel anxious and stuck––Almost like––I feel like I have no control over anything and it––I think––I need, uh, a change.”

Your words strung together in one rushed out sentence. And as your rambling continued on, your words grew softer and softer until your voice barely carried above a whisper. But the last word––change––echoed loudly in the room. The word was deafeningly loud, and Mat didn’t miss a beat.

“Change…”

The one syllable word sounded foreign coming from his lips. He repeated the word for a second time to make sure he heard you right.

Change.

In a sense, change was ever present in your relationship. There was change when you and Mat first grew out of being friends to more…Change when Mat left for Seattle to play hockey…and change again when Mat got drafted by the Islanders.

Change was almost a constant in your relationship; but the change was always prompted from Mat’s end. There had never been any expressed desire for change on your side.

“What do you want a change from?” Mat’s tone was daring, almost as if he wanted you to make his worst nightmare a reality.

“I––There’s this whole––“

“What,” he didn’t mask the viciousness in his voice, “do you want a change from.”

His voice was demanding, and not at all like the sweet sound that comforted you moments ago. You knew him well enough to know he was growing irritated at you, and you knew it would only get worse.

“I got into a masters program––in D.C.,” you rushed out, and in hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best response to reassure his insecurities, but you needed to get that information out there, “And it’s––it sounds so great, Mat. Like really great, and––“

He removed his hand from yours in a swift motion, as if he touched fire, “You’re leaving?”

“That’s not–––“

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?” His eyes shined with hurt and disappointment, but most of all, you could hear the distrust behind his voice, “D.C.?”

You sighed, “I never seriously considered it until last month.”

Mat closed his eyes, no doubt in frustration that you didn’t confide your feelings in him earlier, “You’ve been feeling like you need a change for the past month?” Your silence caused him to flare his nostrils, and edged him on to ask another question, “Since when––Why––How long have you felt this way?”

You gulped, averting your eyes to look at his knees, “I don’t want anything between us to change, Mat,” you spoke carefully, “I was thinking––“

“How long?”

“May.”

You screwed your eyes tight to the point where you felt a stunning sensation in your forehead. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes, that no doubt would be filled to the brim with pain. And you avoided his stare that bored you for as long as you could.

But when you felt the couch cushion next to you feel lighter, you snapped your eyes open and up to look at Mat.

Mat backed away from the couch, and there was nothing you could have done to prepare yourself for the look of betrayal in his eyes, “May?” Gnawing at your bottom lip, you nodded. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head in disbelief, “How could you not tell me––Christ, seven months?” Y/N…” his voice cracked as he said your name.

It killed you to see his jaw clenched and eyes rimmed with redness; and seeing his eyes overflow with heartbreak caused you to shoot up from your seat to comfort him. But what killed you even more was how he flinched away from your touch. Nothing in the world could prepare you for that sting.

All you wanted was to comfort him.

“Mat––“

He inhaled a deep breath and sniffled, “Please, don’t…” he brought both hands up to face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, “You want to leave?”

He couldn’t even look at you.

Unfair to you, his question held two sides. He was asking for clarification about wanting to leave New York, but also asking if you wanted to leave him. To Mat, leaving New York meant leaving him.

Your arms hung limp at your sides, mouth wide open in shock. You understood his confusion about wanting to leave New York because you had never mentioned it before. But your despair quickly turned into irritation as he verbalized his doubt of your love for him.

“You know I’d never leave you,” you said with a deep breath, trying your best to keep your anger at bay.

He ripped his hands away from his face, “Do I?” He sent you a glare that had you stumbling back, “Because we had this whole plan for us. And now you don't want that with me.”

“I still want that with you!” You threw your hands up in the air in exasperation, “Grad school goes faster than undergrad. We’ve done long distance before, and my job said they could transfer me––“

“You already have a job here!” Mat raised his voice, “There are places to go to grad school here! You have a place here! You have friends here––“

You raised your voice over his, “That’s not the point, please just––“

“You have me here!” His voice cracked, “We had a plan––“

“Plans change!”

Mat had his mouth open, ready to shout over you more, but once your ambiguous statement traveled from the confines of your thoughts and slipped out of your lips, he had no response. You could feel the anger radiating off him as the ringing in your ears grew louder…and louder…and louder…

“Plans don’t just change like that,” he venomously spat out. His words hit you like icicles, cold and sharp before his tone momentarily softened, “I had my life built around you…We––I wanted to marry you. Start a family with you.”

He spoke as if all of those desires he had with you were now a far off fantasy.

You pinched the bridge of your nose to stop a new wave of tears from falling. But these tears weren’t of fear for his reaction to your thoughts about change, he made those feelings loud and clear.

These were tears of mourning.

“Mat,” you spoke his name with a strained voice, “Let’s talk about this rationally––“

He ran a hand through his and narrowed his eyes at you, “Don’t…” he raised his forearm to wipe more tears away from his face, “I can’t believe––I really thought we had it all from the beginning. But who would have actually thought two teenagers would make it this far?”

He let out a soft, maniacal chuckle that made you more nauseous than any amount of anxiety.

“We were just children back then,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “What did we know about life.”

His anger morphed into a cynical tone that sent shivers down your spine. It frightened you when he let out that small laugh, one that was usually saved for comical moments between the two of you.

“But here we are now,” he let out another self-deprecating laugh, “Time’s a funny thing…It seemed like nothing back then––It felt as if we had the rest of our lives together.”

As much as you didn’t want to hear Mat break down everything about your relationship, you knew he was spiraling, and you wanted to help him. Because despite what he may think, you still loved him.

Carefully, you tiptoed forward as Mat continued on with his rambling about how idiotic he was as a kid to think that this would last forever. With each step forward, your heart shattered into the tiniest of shards as Mat portrayed your relationship as childish with no chance of reconciliation.

“You just took my love,” his voice decreased in volume and cynicism, and was replaced with a tone that ripped your heart out of your chest. He pointed an accusatory finger at you that made you stop in your tracks, “You took my love––you took it and have no remorse whatsoever––“

You shook your head and picked up the pace of your walking to reach him, “I still love you, Mat. That will never change.”

He stared down at you, and for a moment, you saw the Mat you fell in love with. You saw the bright-eyed eighteen-year-old boy who took his time in teaching you how to shoot a perfect slapshot in his driveway. He looked like he was on the verge of forgiveness, but once you slightly ghosted your fingers against his hand, he snapped out of whatever trance he fell under.

“I don’t know how to love anyone else,” his shoulders slumped forward as he bit his bottom lip.

Without caring that he pulled his hand away from yours seconds ago, you swiftly took his hand in his and gripped it as if you were hanging off a cliff and he was your only lifeline. You didn’t know if it was a moment of bravery, or a moment of desperation. Because there was a nagging thought in the back of your mind that screamed about how this could be the last time you touched him.

“You don’t have to love anyone else,” you pleaded with him, your voice catching in your throat as tears welled up in your eyes, “I don’t want you to love anyone else.”

“Time’s a funny thing,” Mat let out a humorous chuckle, not believing that the two of you found yourself desperately clinging onto the past.

When he finally made eye contact with you, he slightly tilted his head as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Even when he was crying, his dark eyes still captivated you like no one else had. And the longer you stared into his longing eyes, they were filled with one emotion you weren’t familiar with; regret.

“Mat,” you whispered his name cautiously, petrified of what his next move was, “We can work through this…”

He slowly shook his head, causing your heart to plummet, “May…From what I’ve gathered, you hadn’t applied to grad schools then––Didn’t have an excuse for change,” he stalled back more of his tears, “But you wanted a change. You still want that change.”

“I want a change of scenery,” you tried your hardest to make him understand your feelings, “Not a change from you.”

“The only thing back then you could’ve wanted a change from was me,” it was the first time his voice didn’t falter. He was confident in his theory that you didn’t want him anymore.

You squeezed his hand, “Are you even listening to yourself––“

“You’re the love of my life,” his voice was full of pain, and when he softly smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. With one hand still clutching onto yours, he brought his other hand up––a trembling hand––and tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear, “I just wish I was yours.”

With a shakey inhale, and one last strong sniffle to conceal his sobs, Mat pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. And when released your hand one last time, he escaped out the door.

You had felt many sensations throughout the past seven months: drowning, feeling weighed down, and suffocation. But what you felt right now, the devastation that encased your whole body, was far worse than any of those emotions.

Because now, it felt as if you were falling.

Mat, your only lifeline, let go of your hand.

He knew he held the power to pull you up and save you, but he decided to let you go. When he released your grip, it felt as if he was releasing it finger by finger, desperately wanting to hold onto what you both had; wanting to hold onto the life both of you had created around one another. But in the end, it didn’t survive.

And as he released your hand, you fell.

You fell over the edge, stomach performing backflips as the sensation became worse with each passing second. The sensation of falling was never ending, as if you were falling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland; terrified of what waited for you at the bottom.

The December air felt frigid. The December air made one seek comfort in hot chocolate, or another menial item, because winter wasn’t strong enough to provide comfort. The December air felt nothing like the spring air that offered you solace without asking for anything in return.

Oh, how you wished to smell that spring air once more.

[yamigooops]

under the sheets

pairing: bokuto x fem!y/n

warnings: 18+, breath play, fingering, praise kink (receiving)

words: 2.3k

“We’re just playing hide and seek / It’s getting hard to breathe under the sheets with you /

- “Play Date” by Melanie Martinez

a/n: alright sinners, this is the first actually explicit smut I’ve written and I think I’ve officially fallen down the rabbit hole. If you have any spicy requests PLEASE send them my way hehe

“Ten! Nine!” His voice echoed through your house. You rushed up the stairs as quietly as you could, looking desperately for a place to hide. 

“Eight!” The bedroom! Surely, you’d find a good place there. You tiptoed across the wood floors as fast as possible, opening and shutting the door nearly silently. “Seven!” 

Surveying the space, you rushed to the closet. It was a walk in with your clothes lining one side, and Bokuto’s lining the other. You tried squeezing into the back corner, beneath the clothes and behind a small cupboard. “Six! Five! Four!” Much to your dismay, it didn’t take you long to realize you weren’t going to be able to squeeze into the small space. Hurriedly, you turned back into the main room and scrambled for an alternative hiding spot. 

“Three!” Sighing, you jumped onto the large bed and pulled the covers over your head, trying to make them as flat as possible. “Two!” You pressed yourself as far into the bed as you could, knowing that as soon as he walked into the room, he’d be able to make out your form beneath the comforter. 

“One!” He shouted with finality. “Ready or not, here I come!” You heard his footsteps moving around downstairs, and felt your chest constrict with anticipation. The two of you had recently gotten married and moved into this new house. It still amazed you that you were with him sometimes, he was just so perfect and wonderful. 

Both of you had the day off from your obligations and had spent the day lazing around together. Getting restless, he decided that you would play a game of hide and seek because “it’s for adults too,” as he said. You had done a coin flip to see who would hide first, and he came up with a new condition. 

“This will be adult hide and seek. Whenever one of us finds the other within two minutes, they get to do whatever they want to the other. How’s that sound?” He murmured the words against your neck as you twined your fingers through his still damp hair. 

“Mmm, sounds… rewarding,” you whispered, a knot forming in your stomach. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted him to find you within the time limit. 

“Are you in the closet?” You heard the closet by the front door open and shut.

“In the kitchen maybe?” There were footsteps, then another pause. “Nope, not there either. Let’s try the living room.” 

You could imagine him checking under all of the blankets and behind the couch, then the pout that probably adorned his perfect lips when finding you were nowhere to be seen. “Y/N~,” he drawled your name in a whine. “Where are you baby girl, don’t you wanna have some fun with me?” A small grin stretched over your lips as you heard him running up the stairs. 

The door to the bedroom opened as he whined again. “Come on princess, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” His footsteps paused at the door, seemingly out of hesitation, and you were sure he was about to pull the sheets from your body. Instead, he moved over to the closet. 

“Hmm, I wonder if you’re in here,” he drawled and opened the door. Surely there couldn’t be much time left on the timer that he had, and you knew that you could make it just a few more seconds. “Aww, nooo. I thought for sure you’d be in there,” he whined. You swore you heard a joking tone in his voice as he stood in the closet. You bit into your bottom lip to keep from sighing or giggling

Suddenly, the comforter was torn away from your body, leaving just the light grey bedsheet covering your body. You hadn’t heard his footsteps approach the bed, and the action almost gave you a heart attack. “Dang, not under there,” he huffed. “I wonder…” his voice trailed off, and you heard a rustle then he was there beside you beneath the sheet. 

Just as the timer went off. 

“Found ya,” he smirked. The look of adoration and possession in his eyes made your stomach flutter as you reached up to stroke his cheek.

“That you did,” you grinned. You couldn’t deny you were excited to see what he had in store for you. 

Shifting beneath the fabric, he crawled over to position himself above you, his hair mussed by the sheet and forming a little halo around his head. His muscular arms framed your head, his hips hovering above yours as he smirked down at you. 

You reached up a hand and placed it on the back of his neck, gently pulling him down to your lips. He paused just above yours, breath hot against your skin. “Whatever I want, right?” he whispered, seeking your confirmation, which you gave in the form of a small nod. The smirk that spread over his lips made you question whether or not you should have given it. 

Instead of placing his lips against yours, he placed a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses from your jaw down your neck to come rest on your collarbone. He started sucking there, using his teeth to graze the tender skin to make his mark more prominent. Meanwhile, one hand brushed the hair from your face and neck, while the other trailed from your shoulder slowly down over your chest, then your stomach, to come rest on your hip. His fingers played with the waistband of your shorts, and you sighed in anticipation. 

“You remember our safe word right, baby?” he murmurs against your skin. Your eyes open and you look down in suspicion but confirm that you remember it. “I want to try something a little new, so if you don’t like it don’t hesitate to say so alright?” He looks up at you in anticipation, and you know that his words are sincere. If you didn’t like what was happening, he would stop in a heartbeat. 

Sliding his hand down from your hair, he placed his fingers gently on either side of your throat. “Do you trust me?” Bokuto looked at you with such tenderness and concern, and you knew in that moment that you would let this man do whatever he wanted with you. 

“I trust you,” you nodded. A small smile appeared on his lips, and he used his other hand to roughly push down your shorts. You helped him, wanting the fabric off as soon as possible. His long fingers were cool against your hip as he grazed his fingernails down your bikini line toward your heat. 

“If you can’t speak, but need to stop, tap my arm three times, got it?” He wanted to make sure everything went right, so he knew he needed to set up guidelines beforehand. The last thing he wanted was to go too far in the heat of the moment and end up hurting you. You were a bit taken aback by this request, as you had always been able to verbalize your limits in the past. You nodded however, coaxing a wicked grin from his lips. 

His fingertips reached your core, already slick just from your hushed conversation and the way he looked in the half light. “Oh, darling look at this. You’re already dripping for me and I haven’t even done anything yet,” he growled, placing his lips beside your ear and nipping at the lobe. “God, I love you so much.”

And with that, he suddenly plunged his middle finger deep inside you, getting a sweet exclamation from you as you accommodated the feeling. His mouth worked at your ear, sucking and biting until you were sure the skin there was crimson with his passion. Just as you got accustomed to his finger inside of you, there was a new sensation. 

It was getting harder to breathe. 

Bokuto’s hand around your throat was constricting ever so gently, easing you into his fantasy step by step. “Is this alright darling?” The nod from you was permission to continue. You were forced to take longer, fuller breaths than you normally would, and as his hand got marginally tighter, you started noticing a difference. You tangled your hands in his hair, hips rutting against his hand begging for more, more contact, more speed, more force. 

Pausing in his grip on your throat, he grinned down at you. “Let’s move on to the next step, love,” he murmured, capturing your mouth with his. You gave a labored gasp as he finally placed the pad of his thumb up against your clit, giving it the attention it so desperately desired. Between the pressure on your core and the pressure on your neck, you felt weighed down by this man you loved so dearly. And it wasn’t bad, if you were being honest. 

“Squeeze tighter,” you whispered against his mouth. He pulled back a tad to look at you with slightly widened eyes as he silently asked for confirmation. You nodded, and he obeyed. His grip tightened a bit more, and you could feel the blood in your neck pounding against his flesh. The pressure from his fingers sent a thrill down your spine, causing your hips to buck up into his. You ran your fingers down his chest then up around to his back, your fingernails making contact with the smooth skin there. 

“Oh god baby, you’re doing so well,” he grunts, pushing his slick fingers into your pussy with more vigor. “You’re so perfect, such a perfect match for me.” He moved above you slightly, and you felt how hard he was as his clothed length brushed against your stomach. 

Your breathing was getting labored now, coming in deep rasps as you shifted needily against his hand. “Fuck, you look so pretty with my fingers wrapped around your throat,” he growled, his fingers pulsing in and out of you faster now. “You get a little break for being so pretty,” he cooed, his grip easing up. His fingers came to caress your face, running from forehead to chin as he stared at you in adoration. 

“Don’ stop Bo,” you whined, grabbing his wrist and tugging it back toward your neck. 

“Be patient baby doll, I had to give you a break so I could hear the sound you make when I do this.” The smirk on his face was devilish as he plunged his fourth finger deep inside you. You groaned, back arching off the mattress and eyes rolling back in pleasure. It was just what you needed, as he curled the digits and continued pressing roughly into your clit. “See, that was well worth the break,” he chuckled, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. 

His fingers snaked their way back around your throat, and he eased them back to the pressure they were at before he released you. The lack of oxygen was making your head spin, and when paired with the pleasure of his fingers at your pussy, you felt yourself getting drunk off of him. 

“I’m gonna go a little tighter now, don’t forget the taps,” he hissed into your ear. You grunted in affirmation, and felt his hand constrict your airway further. Only a thin stream of air got past him now, and you had to drag in each breath. You thought to yourself that if he went any tighter you would tap out. But for now, the asphyxiation was doing wonders to your body. 

The tightness in your stomach spread throughout your entire body, as if every muscle in your body were getting ready to spring. You let out a pathetic whimper, and he moaned into your ear. “That’s it baby doll, ride my fingers like only you can. I want you to fall apart, I want you to coat my whole hand in your sweet come.” His voice was driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you knew the release was coming any moment now. 

Just as you found yourself having serious difficulty breathing, he slid up his index finger and pinched your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves between his fingers. You came undone, back spasming, nails raking down his back and head thrown back. He snatched his hand off your throat and you gasped in a full breath of air, the rush of oxygen simply enhancing your high as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you to ride it out. 

Your chest heaved, brushing his as he gazed down at you in wonder. “God, Y/N, you are just… incredible. Fuck you’re such a trooper, my pretty girl.” His lips pressed chastely against your forehead as his hand slipped beneath the small of your back and pressed you up against him. 

“Was kinda fun,” you admitted, eyes shut as you recovered from the high. “I wouldn’t want to do it all the time but that’s certainly an option from here on.”

You opened your eyes to look up at him as he didn’t answer. There was a glimmer in his eyes and his mouth was curled into a precious smile that melted your heart. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ve kind of had a fantasy about that for a few years now but was always too… shy to ask about it, I guess,” he admitted. The thought of him being too shy to ask anything made you grin, and you pulled him down by the jaw to kiss you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, brushing the fabric that still draped over him. You reached up and pulled it down, breathing in the fresh, cool air that replaced the hot, sex-filled air you were breathing in. 

“Give me a little time to recover, ok? Then it’s my turn to do whatever I want to you,” you grinned against his mouth. 

“Only if you find me,” he winked.

consider buying me a coffee for exclusive writing

[smuggsy]

i would love to see #11 for the prompt thing (just want to say i adore ur current ed/oswald/omc series btw im excited for more! <3)

owww, thank you so much <3 it's nice to hear ppl are actually enjoying it bc i've got almost no feedback. another chapter is coming soon (;

but now onto the whump below the cut. #11 “Please, let me help you.” 

Getting used to his impaired vision is no easy task, he'll admit. Now that the doctor's made a thorough job of cleaning the wound and administering antibiotics to prevent infection and prescribed him two different kinds of painkillers and now that the initial shock of it all has passed. Now it downs on Oswald that this is who he's going to be from now on, that watching his step carefully when he goes down the stairs and bumping into walls that are closer than they seem is something he's going to have to get used to. 

As if walking around with a limp and a cane wasn't demeaning enough already. He lets out a grunt as he finally makes it to the kitchen, everything is sunk in darkness and he fails to turn on the lights two times before he finally finds the switch.

He sees the switch. He knows where it is. It's always been there, in that exact same spot, and he's walked into the kitchen in the middle of the night to fix himself some tea countless times before.

Now the switch has moved.

"Urrgh," he grunts one more time as he turns around and collides against the kitchen aisle. He nearly grabs one of the chairs and tosses it across the room, a sudden rush of adrenaline and fury coursing through his sleep-deprived mind.

There's a pang behind his eyepatch as if mocking his helplessness but he calms down soon enough, closing his good eye and taking a deep breath to brace himself against the counter. He manages to put the kettle on without any further incidents, but when he stands on his toes to reach the cabinet —how many times has he told Olga to keep that stupid tea-set at hand?!— he topples over and ends up sending two very nice cups to their deaths.

They crash on the floor with a piercing sound and Oswald startles and grits his teeth at the commotion. 

Deep breaths, deeeeeep breaths.

Choosing to ignore the incident he turns around to switch off the gas with trembling hands and pour the water into the one cup he did manage to obtain. 

Except, of course, his mind is still foggy from restless sleep and drugs so he misjudges the angle entirely and ends up pouring it all over his hand holding the teabag in place instead.

He lets out a yelp and drops the kettle instantly.

"Ow! Shit! Stupid little—!"

The water drips onto the floor unceremoniously as he tumbles over to reach the water tap and put his hand under it.

Ed barges into the place only half a minute later wielding a handgun, with hair sticking out and with his glasses askew. Oswald barely spares him a glance, blood boiling under his skin and dangerously close to the edge already.

"Oswald, what—"

"Nothing!" he blurts out almost immediately. Edward bearing witness to this mess is the last thing he needs right now, "just go away."

But, of course, he's Edward.

"What happened?" his friend asks, pistol forgotten on some nearby shelf and rushing over, words the slightest bit slurred by slumber and Oswald thinks lucky you, being able to get a wink of sleep, and takes another of those deep breaths that are doing a poor job of slowing down his heart rate. 

"What does it look like it happened, Ed?!"

Edward stares at him numbly and then his eyes dart around the place like he's only now taking it all in, seeing the shattered china on the floor and the pool of water by their feet. Immediately he brings both hands to Oswald's under the cold water from the tap and tugs at it.

"Let me see."

Oswald jerks him away.

"No— I'm fine!" he bites out, "go back to sleep."

Despite his ill-mannered humour, Edward doesn't move. Oswald doesn't look at him while he stands next to him in silence, letting the waters cool, clearly giving him a moment to backtrack on his request. And then, ever so softly, Ed's hands return, to his elbow this time. A touch too gentle it almost makes Oswald let out a whine — because he's tired, and aching, and sleepy and nothing turns out for him as of late.

"Please, let me help you."

His words are a caress in Oswald's ear. Barely there. Ed keeps his warm fingers on his arm and slowly brings the hand to his chest for inspection. Oswald lets him, this time. All energy seems to leave him with that puff of breath and he lets Ed guide him to one of those chairs he was contemplating taking all of his frustrations out on just a minute ago.

There's a slight hiss of sympathy.

"Should be alright with a little cream and a bandage," is Edward's assessment. 

Oswald rolls his eyes and fights down a sappy retort much like: yes, I know that, I'm not so incompetent that I need you here to issue an official diagnosis, just leave me to rage in peace. He nods tiredly instead, shoulders slumped and yawn unavoidable.

"I'll be right back," Ed says with a hoarse voice, moving around quickly despite his dishevelled appearance, looking perfectly awake now but sounding nothing like it. 

Oswald doesn't try to stop him. Because he knows it'll be a lost cause and because he's afraid if he starts poking too much at the situation he'll end up embarrassing himself and crying out his frustrations on Ed's shoulder.

Not ideal.

So he keeps silent instead, watching Ed's expert hands apply that cold salve on his knuckles and wrap his aching red-looking skin in a white bandage, giving up on not looking miserable because what's the point.

He is miserable.

"There, all done."

Ed pats him twice on the thigh as if comforting a hurting animal and Oswald can only offer a small scoff in return. He can smell Ed's shampoo from where he's standing so close and he keeps his eyes fixed on that loose crumpled white shirt he wears to sleep, afraid to look up into the gentle eyes he knows he'll find behind those glasses.

Because he might start blurting out stuff that shouldn't be blurt out if he does, as helpless and exhausted as he's beginning to feel.

"Now let's get you that cup of tea."

Ed turns around to make himself busy and Oswald takes the opportunity to scatter away.

"Where—"

"Sofa," he crooks out deadpan. 

That's where Ed finds him ten minutes later, staring at the unlit fireplace as if willing it to come to life on its own. Sitting on his usual spot with the lights off and a glassy look of resignation. 

"Chamomile," Ed says as he offers the steaming cup. Oswald doesn't have the heart to tell him he's changed his mind and would rather down a glass or two of that aged Scotch instead. He takes a sip without muttering out a word. Ed sits down just beside, clearly not taking the hint, "you're uncharacteristically quiet."

Oswald shrugs.

"Just tired," he offers, and then, only to put Ed's mind at ease, gives him a practised look of reassurance and a smile, "I didn't mean to wake you up."

Edward turns the attention back to him, ignoring the clear dismissal implicit in the words.

"Did you go to sleep at all?"

"Yes."

"Is your eye bothering you?"

And then the Oswald from the kitchen returns without a warning and he lashes out.

"Goodnight, Ed."

Edward goes to speak again but stops himself when Oswald sends him a sharp menacing look. He looks nothing short of a kicked puppy as he gets on his feet and turns around to leave.

And then he doesn't leave.

"I could start a fir—"

"Goddamn it, Ed! Just leave me alone!"

And just like that the fourth and last cup of that lovely set ceases to exist, turned into another pile of shattered porcelain on the floor. Because Edward Nygma is a pain in his fucking ass, and he doesn't know how to read an indirect and back down and just disappear. He pokes and pokes and pokes—

—and when Oswald turns to look at him with that murderous glare, he sees no reaction from him. Clearly, this was his intention all along, from the very first moment he walked into that kitchen, to see just how much he could take, to push until he broke, to make him talk about it.

Oswald should have learnt to read Edward Nygma by now. Should’ve seen it coming.

As Ed strides back to him with purpose and swiftly sits back down on the sofa and leans in to wrap him into an embrace, Oswald understands he definitely still hasn't learnt to read Edward Nygma. 

"What are you doing?" he pushes him away half-heartedly with his good hand. Edward doesn't let go, an unmovable brick wall that cannot be swayed.

"I'm hugging you."

"Let go—"

"No."

Oswald blinks. Then lets out a breathless laugh. He can't seem to fathom any other reaction to this — provided this is actually happening. Provided it isn't a secondary effect of being drugged up to his eyeballs for a whole week, now. 

He stops trying to tug Edward away and instead slumps against him, head resting on a slim shoulder and cold and runny nose poking Ed's neck as he keeps giggling at the unprecedented gesture. 

Edward's hug is implacable but awkward. He doesn't move, his broad hands against Oswald's back just pin him in place almost in a possessive fashion. He's clearly unskilled in the ways of physical reassurance.

Oswald realises those nervous giggles he's letting out are actually sobs.

[weaselbrownie]

forever | d.m

draco malfoy x slytherin!reader

summary : in sixth year draco started to drift away from her leaving her in the dark, until one night when she decides that enough is enough and tries to find out what’s going on in him, leading in her finding his dark mark

warnings : Mentions of blood, swearing, angst, emotional roller coaster draco

word count : 5k

Two weeks 

It has been two weeks since you've had a proper conversation with Draco. You were quite confused why he was ignoring you. Sure you both aren't in a relationship, but you've always been close. You've always had a specific relationship with Draco, maybe even kissed a few times but nothing's official. All you know was that you were his and he was yours, it has always been and it will always be. 

When Draco broke his arm in the second year. When you tripped down the staircase in the third year. When he got in a big argument with his dad in the fourth year. When there was a nasty rumor going around about you in the fifth year. 

It was always the two of you against the world.

Well– at least it was until now, the sixth year, the year where Draco started to drift away from you. You have tried so hard to pull him aside and talk but he won't budge, always in a hurry to go somewhere or do something. You were about to give up before you saw him, he was leaving the room of requirement and into the abandoned boy's lavatory in the west wing. 

From the moment he caught your eye you followed him. Sprinting behind him as the soft wind blow on your face. Draco was walking at quite a fast pace, entering the lavatory he shut the door with a loud bang just as you were about to reach for him. 

Fortunately, he didn't lock it so you could slip in easily. Tiptoeing towards the middle of the cold room your skin littered in goosebumps, not knowing what to expect. You have never been here before so the outline of the room was unfamiliar. You made your way to the end of the room to see Draco scrunched up in the corner of the room by a large panel window, overlooking the dark horizon. He hugged his knees before dropping his head in the middle of it. 

He was still, he didn't even look like he was breathing. You moved away from the middle of the hall and to the back of a bathroom stall to hide your body. Moments later Draco finally picked up his head again and fixed his position to sit crisis cross in front of the large window.  His head tilted up to watch the stars, it was bright tonight. The dark sky littered with millions of shining stars. The full moon adding to the beauty, the soft light reflected onto Draco's pale skin making him glow. 

Slowly you peaked out from behind the stall to walk towards him. He didn't recognize your presence at all, seeing as his focus still laid on the sky above him. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" You softly said looking down at Draco and then up to the sky. 

Draco let out a surprised gasp before turning around to look up at you. His gaze stuck to you as he didn't move a muscle, he just sat there, bright silver eyes wide open piercing into yours. You took your vision off of the sky and into Draco below you. You let out a small smile before walking a few steps towards him again. 

"Can I sit?" You chuckled again seeing as you will be doing most of the talking tonight. 

Much to your dismay, Draco didn't reply but rather just nodded before turning around to look out the window again. You settled next to the boy and brought your knees up to your chest before wrapping yourself in your robe. Even though it's late you both still sat in your uniform considering you both had extra classes today. 

You smiled to yourself before turning to face Draco. His face was soft and relaxed, you could tell he's been stressed lately and this was calming him down. His eyes fixed staring at one of the constellations in the sky. You followed his gaze that landed on a familiar star. 

"That's Draco right?" You whispered to him while looking at the sky. 

He seems to be taken back considering he broke the eye contact with the star to look at you. He crooked his head to the side before opening his mouth to let out a few soft words.

"How do you know that?"He genuinely asked, confused on how you managed to remember one of the many stars in the sky.

You let out a soft chuckle before turning to face Draco who's already looking at you with big shining eyes. "I listen you know" You smiled at the boy in front of you. 

What you said was true, Draco is known to drone on and on about the topics he's passionate about, one of them being constellations. The two of you have been sneaking off to the astronomy tower since the second year. When the sky was bright and you could see the stars, he wouldn't hesitate to start talking about them. About how he got Draco as his name or how his extended family's name is all made up of all the constellations in the sky. At times you would even fall asleep on him whilst he talks about the stars, he thinks you don't listen but you do, when have you not listened to Draco.

"All those times we snuck up the tower?" He asked with a soft smile dancing on the corner of his lips. 

You returned the smile and nodded. "I've always loved it when you talk about the stars" you softly started looking into his eyes. "Or when you find a new book in the library– and you read it to me" You chuckled at every memory of Draco excitedly reading to you.

Draco's mouth hung open for a few moments letting your words sink in before turning it into a smile. It was a genuine smile, a smile he hadn't shown anyone in the past two weeks. You felt a little better, even just seeing his smile. He was silent but you could read his eyes, how they sparkle in the dark telling you that he was glad you're there. You snuck your hand on top of his and he gladly took them, flipping his palm over to close his big hand around your small one. 

His smile didn't last long, as Draco unexpectedly launched himself at you, bringing you into a soul-crushing hug. He didn't have to say anything and you knew he needed this, so you hugged him back, snaking your arms around his torso and letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while before he pulled away and moved to lean against one of the big pillars by the window. You watched as she scattered on the floor searching for the perfect spot and position. You kept your eyes on him, watching as the front of his white hair fall against his forehead. Not long after he finally settled down and parted his legs before extending it and patting the space in front of him, motioning for you to sit in between his legs. 

You smiled before gathering yourself to crawl over to his arms. You set yourself in front of him, your back connected to his chest. You leaned back getting comfortable in his embrace as you looked over to the right to take in the dark scenery. His arms snaked to your torso keeping you close to him before you felt his chin on your shoulder, huffing out a loud sigh. 

It was moments like these that you cherish most. Moments where you and Draco are most vulnerable in private. Nobody has seen either of you like this, the both of you have such strict reputations. To the world, the two of you were the great big scary Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N, the two cold Slytherins, the two most heartless students in all of Hogwarts. 

But to the two of you– you're just Y/N, and he is just Draco. You're just kids who’re trying to have fun and pass school. You're just people who want to make it in the real world. You're just two lost souls who need one another to keep going. 

So deep in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Draco calling your name. You blinked a few times before leaning your head against his, slightly shifting towards him. 

"Yes Draco?" you cooed to the boy behind you. 

"Thank you.." He mumbled slowly into your shoulder before a smile formed his lips. 

You chuckled again before turning your head to give him a peck on the side of his hairline. You fixed your position and sunk on the floor even more and leaned back on him. He picked his head up from your shoulder and leaned back to the cold marble pillar, tightening his grip on your torso. 

You smiled to yourself before putting your hands over his to trace his fingers. Whilst playing with his hands one of your fingers traced a bit too far up into his sleeves and you felt something that wasn't supposed to be there. 

The skin on the inside of his left wrist felt different, it wasn't smooth like the rest of him. It was as if someone was harshly scratching on the delicate skin. His grip was strong and so you couldn't see what your fingers felt just seconds ago. 

You start to worry, overthinking in your head. Is this part of the reason Draco has been so distant? What has he been doing? There was nothing more you want to do than just turn around and ask him but right now it wasn't an option. Draco has been avoiding you for weeks and if you ask a sensitive subject now he might just run out of your life forever. Pushing all the bizarre thoughts out of your head you decided to drop it and ask another time. 

So instead of confronting him, you let go of his left wrist and just placed your hands on his forearms. Snuggling deeper into Draco you find yourself drifting. The cool atmosphere of the bathroom and the dimly lit room not helping you fight the urge to fall asleep. So with the last of energy you have, you push yourself up and turned around to find Draco asleep. 

You smiled softly at him before caressing his cheeks and whispered his name to wake him. Draco's eyes flutter and he readjusted his position. Draco sat upright and held your hips, silently asking if everything was alright. 

"We need to head back" You whispered to him with your hands still on his cheek.

He simply nodded before stretching his neck and getting up. You turned around still on your knees before bending down and picking up your bookbag. Standing up with ease you turned around once more to see Draco looking down at you. You smiled at him before you start to head for the door. You could barely get 5 steps in before Draco came next to you and took your book bag from your shoulder and slinging it onto his shoulder instead. You stopped in your tracks and looked up at him, however, Draco didn't stop. He kept walking at a slow pace until he reached the door. 

"Well.. come on now," Draco said looking back at you while extending his hand in your direction. 

You were surprised yes, but that didn't stop you from blushing before jogging up to meet him. You took his hand and the both of you started to wall down the dark hallway hand in hand. 

After that night Draco has made more of an effort to spend time with you, he didn't run off after class like he used to, he even sat down every meal with you. Things were starting to get back to normal, but not quite yet. Every night after dinner Draco always has an excuse, Snape needs him or the prefects’ duties, but you knew he was lying but you didn't want to push your luck– until tonight. 

You decided you've had enough of being kept in the dark and decided to confront him. You were about to do it after dinner but per usual he's already gone, running into the dark spots of Hogwarts. Slightly annoyed you decided it'll be best if you just wait for him in his dorm. 

After Dumbledore dismissed everyone you practically sprint down to the dungeons and into the cold green common room, rushing up the stairs you went into the boy's section, thank Merlin for Draco's private prefect dorm. You opened the door and slowly crept in. His dorm was a little chilly, his books neatly stacked on his desk and his bed nicely made. 

You shrugged off your robe and placed it on his chair before coming to sit on his soft bed. You took a seat on the edge of the bed and took in the scenery of his dorm before collapsing backward and taking a pillow to snuggle. 

Draco left you waiting for around 15 minutes before coming back. The hood of your eyes started to get heavy as it flutters. Before you could completely close your eyes the door burst open revealing a flushed Draco. Your body jolted up in surprise, and you quickly stood in panic. Once you saw who it was you let yourself sit on the edge of the bed again.

"What are you doing here?" Draco blurted out in a not-so-welcoming tone. 

"I was waiting for you," You said slowly as you stood up from the bed. 

Draco eyed you up and down, your hair was slightly messy and your uniform was all halfway done. The top button of your shirt undone and your tie loose, your jumper raised to your hips and your skirt hitched a little higher than usual.

"Now isn't a good time love"  Was all Draco said before turning around to shrug off his robe and placed it on top of yours. 

You fixed yourself a little, pulling your jumper and skirt down before walking a few steps towards him. "Draco–" You started in a slight whisper tone.

"Go back to your dorm, it's late and I'm tired," He said sternly.

"Dray please–" 

"I said I'm tired Y/L/N!" He hissed at you, turning around completely to face you.

You flinched backward at his action, Draco was many things but being aggressive with you wasn't one of them. You weren't scared, Draco would never in a million years hurt you, but you were rather surprised. 

"Draco please, I'm trying to fix something here!" You talked back to him showing him that you weren't going to back down. 

Draco only scoffed and rolled his eyes before taking his book bag that sat on the floor and swung it onto his shoulder. Walking past you and into the side of his bed where a large cabinet sat. You stood there, your eyes wide at his reaction. 

"Can you not be an arse for once Draco!" You turned around and shouted at him which caused him to freeze while putting his books away. 

Draco put the book he was holding on the floor before letting out a dark chuckle and smirked slightly. He picked up his head to look at you. Your face was red from rage and your arms crossed in front of you. Draco's jaw tensed and he backed away from the cabinet to stand straight. He mimics your posture, crossing both arms in front of his chest before slowly walking towards you. 

"I wasn't the one to break into someone else's dorm– just to annoy them with stupid questions– when clearly the other person is too tired to speak!" Draco practically growled at you, his eyes darkening and his smirk dropping. 

"Well forgive me for caring about you" You hissed back at the blond boy standing in front of you. 

"Oh cut the bullshit Y/L/N! I don't need you sticking your head somewhere it doesn't belong" Draco spat at you, walking closer than before. 

You groaned again in annoyance as you threw your hands up in the air, shuffling around in the spot where you stood. "You always do this Draco... Always!" You whispered the last part. "I just want to help you–" your sentence was cut short by Draco's loud groan. 

"Piss off Y/N! I don't need your help with anything, I'm capable thankyou very much" Draco hissed in a sarcastic tone at you. 

"What the fuck is your problem, I'm right here to offer you my hand and you're still pushing me away!" You shouted at him, tears on the verge of your eyes threatening to fall any second now. 

"Well I don't need it– So just leave, I know you want to!" He shouted back at you, taking more steps forward closer to your shaking figure. 

You were tired, your body aches from a long day of school and all you wanted to do was snuggle deep in Draco's warm embrace but here you were, screaming and snapping at each other. As Draco got closer you could see the smallest amount of tear on the corner of his eyes, he was tired just like you were. You pulled yourself together, if you give up now there might not be another chance. 

"Just go– I don't need you here Y/N..." He said sternly, trying to hold back something big. 

Your jaw tensed at his words and your mouth curled to the tiniest pout before you let a single tear roll down your face. You took a deep breath and shook your head a little. Your gaze dropped to your shoes as you were debating with yourself on what to do next. You decide that maybe it's time for a different approach. Trying to get him to talk clearly wasn't helping in any way. 

With your heart on the tips of your fingers, your hand reached up to hold his. His eyes stayed on you, burning a hole into your skull if possible. Your body jolts in electricity as the tip of your warm fingers touched his. Draco didn't move a muscle, he didn't even close his hand around yours like he usually would. 

Not giving up you stepped a little closer to Draco while your hand trailed up his forearm. Before you could move your hand even higher you touched the spot again. The spot you touched on the inside of his wrist many nights ago in the abandoned bathroom. Except for this time, it was a different texture, it wasn't just rough and dry it was damp. In panic, you tore your hand away from Draco and lifted it to your face. Your eyes widen in horror as you came face to face with blood. 

Your middle finger was stained with bits of dry blood, you gasped as did Draco. Before you could do anything he started to shuffle backward, you froze in place trying to process what just happened. 

"Dray–" You started softly just to get cut off once more. 

"I told you to leave Y/N– So leave!" Draco started to panic even more than you did.

You shook your head again before tearing your eyes away from your fingers to look at Draco. He was starting to really panic.  His chest was heaving up and down ad he stumbles while walking backward. His eyes were blank as he shook his head. Draco brought his hands up to loosened the tie around his neck as it was suffocating him. 

You started to move towards Draco, placing your hands in front of you to try to calm him down. That's when Draco broke. All the tears he tried hard to conceal burst down his face, his breath started to get uneven, you didn't know what to do so you watched him as he slowly broke down. 

Your heart aches just looking at him, Draco Malfoy, the boy you've loved for years on end. Draco fell back onto his bed and buried his head on the palms of his hands. Another tear escaped your eyes as you try to get closer to him. You placed a hand on his shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. He didn't look up or moved from his previous position, he just continued to sob into his hands. 

You took a seat next to him before placing the hand that was on his shoulder onto his cheek. Draco finally looked up to see your tear-stained face, he sniffled a little before completely throwing himself on you. His actions took you by surprise but you hugged him tightly back, rubbing his back you whispered sweet nothings into his ear that seems to calm him down a little. 

"Y/N you need to leave..." Draco mumbled into your shoulder, breaking the silence. 

"Wha– No!"  You said a little louder than he did as your eyes widened in surprise 

"I'm not going anywhere Draco– We'll get through this, w-whatever this is– I'm not gonna leav–" You were cut off by Draco once more when he tore away from your arms to stand up. 

"You don't get it Y/N! I'm dangerous–I could hurt you!" He shouted in frustration as his hand flew up to his blond locks

"Draco what could you possibly do to hurt me?" You stood up in front of him, confused about why he wants you to leave so badly. 

Draco shuffled around for a little, groaning in frustration every once in a while before streaming down tears on his face again. You didn't know what to do so you stayed in your spot, hugging your figure as you watched the boy in front of you. 

"Draco I'm sure it isn’t that bad– We can figure something out and then w–"

"I’m a death eater!" Draco shouted at you, shutting you up. 

As if all the love in the world was sucked, you stood staring at the figure in front of you. Your eyes widened at the realization of what Draco just said. You couldn't bring yourself to give a big reaction, you silently stood back let your tears out. 

"N-no.." You chocked out still not moving from your previous state. 

"Yes Y/N, I can't protect you anymore you have to leave!" Draco murmured, looking down onto the floor in shame. 

"No– Y-you can’t possibly be a death eater–" You said to him shaking your head in disbelief. 

"And why not Y/N? My dad's a death eater my whole family are death eaters! I was next in line and it was time–" Draco started as he stutters his words towards the shaking girl in front of him.

"Trust me when I said I would change the past if I could, but truth is I can't! Y/N I cant!" His words got louder as the frustration is getting to him.

"Every day I look on my arm and I see the mark of death, I am marked for death! And I tried to protect you for so long but I can only do so much Y/N– I've lost everything in my life and I can’t lose you too" Draco spat out, choking on his own tears and pain. 

"Dray–" You said, standing still in front of him hugging yourself as you watch him get all his pain and anger out. 

Before you could get another word out Draco aggressively rolled up his sleeve revealing his dark mark– surrounded by red scratches. You gasped as your hand flew to your mouth covering it. "Look what they did to me!" Draco shouted as more tears run down his pale face. 

"Oh Draco.." You murmured as you start to walk towards him. When you were just a few feet in front of him you extended your hand out to take his one. You grasped his hand in yours softly before lifting it higher. Your eyes scan his arm, every detail of the dark mark, every end of scar from his scratches. 

You finally let go of his arm and your hand snaked up to hold his face. His tears seemed to have stopped but each drop was strained on his face. You tore your gaze away from his arms and focused on him. Looking up you could see his bright eyes peaked from his heavy lids and thick lashes. 

Draco seems to notice how you're memorizing every detail on his face, he looked into your eyes before looking into your lips and back at your eyes. You noticed his little glance and decided to just go for it. 

Without moving too much you closed the space between the two of you. Your lips pecked his slightly chapped one before cupping his face with your other hand that previously sat on his arm. Draco stayed still for a moment before returning your kiss with even more passion. You were getting dizzy as if all the crying wasn't already enough to knock you out, you were breathing hard against Draco. His arms snaked to your hips as he deepened the kiss a little. After what seems like an eternity you pulled away and wiped his wet face with your thumbs. 

"You really thought I was going to walk away from you?" You softly asked, breaking the heavy silence that sat in the dim room. 

Draco didn't answer you but rather just nodded in shame. "Can I ask a question?" You said again looking into his face. Draco looked back up at you and silently nodded again. "Why did you scratch it?" You murmured at the boy in front of you. 

"It's stupid, but sometimes it hurts so much that I thought it would just come off if I scratch it deep enough..." Draco said slowly as his jaw tightens. 

Your heart breaks at his answer, all this time Draco has been going through all of this alone in fear that you would run away. All this time you could've helped prevent him from hurting himself but you didn't. You cursed yourself for not asking sooner. You nodded when he finished his statement and hugged him. Your arms making way to the back of his neck as you rested your head on his shoulder, Draco holding on to you tighter in fear you might just disappear if he didn't. 

You lead him away from the spot where you stood and towards his connecting bathroom, stopping at his dresser to take out a jumper and some random sweatpants. You entered the cold bathroom and goosebumps started to form on your skin. Slowly you backed him up against the sink countertop as he leaned on the edge. 

"You need to change," You said softly to the boy in front of you. 

"Can you help?" Draco said as he placed a hand onto your arm when you were just about to leave the bathroom. 

You smiled up to the boy before nodding. You brushed a fallen hair behind your ear before placing your hands on the bottom of his jumper. Slowly you lifted the piece of clothing as Draco held his arm up. When you got the jumper off you started to work your hands on his tie, he kept his eyes on you the whole time. Just when you got his tie off he came down and attacked your lips with his again. You slowly kissed him back as if you've been together forever. Your hands continue to undo the buttons on his shirt, and when you got to the bottom you pulled away from his lips just to reattach them on his collarbone, spreading little kisses on his cold skin. You tugged his shirt off before you moved down your lips to his chest, after discarding him of his shirt you pulled away and place your lips on his once more before completely pulling away to get the fresh jumper sitting on the counter. 

Before you placed the jumper on him you reached for your wand and held up his wrist. You looked up at him silently asking if he was okay and he gave you a nod of confirmation for you to clean his scratched arm. You quickly whispered a spell that cleaned his arms and wrapped them in a bandage. You placed your wand back onto the counter as you brought his wrist up to your lips giving it a quick peck. 

You took the jumper and continued to dress him, doing the same with his pants before changing yourself too. You went over to the sink and splashed some water on your face as Draco copied your actions. 

After the two of you got comfortable you lead him out of the bathroom and back into his room. You continued to lead him to the bed and opened the covers to get him in the warm embrace of his bed. You tucked him in, bringing the covers up to his chest and kissing the top of his head before you started to walk away. Draco grabbed your hand keeping you in place just when you turned around. 

"Stay.." He softly said looking up at your figure. 

You turned around and smiled at him before coming to the other side of the bed and got under the covers with him. You shuffled in under the covers to get closer to Draco as he did the same. You laid your arms out for Draco to crawl in and that's exactly what he did. The scent of citrus and mint wash over you as he snuggled closer to you, resting his head on the crook of your neck. His arms snaked onto your hips and his legs tangled themselves with yours. You closed your arms around his shoulder to keep him close and kissed the top of his head before playing with the ends of his hair. 

"I'm not going anywhere Dray" You murmured into his hair as you felt him shift a little under you and fasten his arms on your hips. 

"Yeah?.." He replied softly not moving from his position. 

"Everything that's gonna happen after this, I'll be here, I'll always be here" You smiled into his hair as you make a promise you know you will never break.

"Forever?.." Draco asked as he snuggled deeper into you.

"Forever"

[tarithenurse]

In the eyes

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x fem!reader Content: Feels. Angst. Loss. Love. Reference to killing (war and murder). Captivity. Sorrow. Hope. Anger. You name it, it’s there. A/N: I just want to say in my defence that this story isn’t my fault. Blame @maladaptive-ninja-returns​...it’s her birthday present (yes, I’m late)!

In the eyes

The steam is long gone together with your interest in the drink when you drain the cup of tea as the black-haired man gets up to leave. The cape hides what he’s missing – if only it was his leg instead – that way you wouldn’t have to keep the distance to the bare minimum, constantly risking him discovering that you’re following him. It doesn’t help to complain, though: he’s alive and mobile...and you have to watch your every move.

Volunteering for the assignment has probably been one of the more masochistic choices you’ve made, but you just couldn’t let the last Uchiha go yet.

For years, watching the kid grow older had kept a wound alive that no one knew about. It festered, saturating you with a sickening, rotten, sadness that never washed off but wasn’t detected by your peers. You should have let it heal. Should have moved on. But there had always been something keeping you from accepting what everyone else had decided must be true.

You weren’t the only one dealing with grief, of course. The life of a Leaf ninja was to say goodbye too soon and then to live with the numbing ache, renewed each time memories stirred.

Before the fourth war, the newfangled gossip of the dead returning was treated as ghost stories by most people until the climax of it all, when too many stood face to face with loved ones. Lost ones. And you were too weak to prevent the hope from being rekindled, so once peace was a reality and all the shinobis prepared to celebrate in the chaotic haze of the aftermath, you made a decision.

That is why, three seconds after the door closes behind Uchiha Sasuke, you get up...

...and sit right down again to avoid pressing against the sharp blade of the person suddenly appearing beside you.

The newcomer’s face is hidden partially under the wide-rimmed hat and the rest behind a dark and tattered cloak. Glancing down, a hand with purple-painted nails slips the kunai into the darkness of the cloak, leaving you with the knowledge that it’s there.

There’s no doubt in your mind that this is a shinobi. Where did you come from? Admittedly, there are others frequenting the little tea house because it’s a popular stop at a major crossroads...even if it mainly services those without national affiliations. None of the rest of the clientele reacts to the scene unfolding discreetly and you have no wish to catch their attention before you know what and who you’re dealing with.

“What do you want?”

It takes a second before you realize the question isn’t asked by you. Another one to recover from the smooth dusk that is the stranger’s voice. A voice with a hint of familiarity in the timbre which you decide must be your mind playing games.

“Nothing. I’m no enemy of yours,” you try to placate them, silently counting the seconds worth of head start separating you from Sasuke, “and I hold nothing of value...you should let me go.”

The tickle of a laugh surprises you. “If I’d wanted your possessions, they’d already be mine. I want answers, Konoha-girl.”

The headband you carry is hidden under your clothes, well out of sight from any prying eyes. Finally giving up on stalking your initial target, you turn your undivided attention to the person who has seated them-self before you.

The little skin you can see is pale, and a few black strands have escaped the slack ponytail and fallen in front of the face where only chin and jawline is visible. As if knowing your annoyance, the head is tipped slightly, allowing you to glimpse soft, gently smiling lips. Kissable. The thought jars you.

“I recommend you give up that wish.” No one should be able to hear the nervousness in your voice...but the stranger smirks. “My business is my own.”

“Not when it involves him,” they says, inclining the hat towards the door where Uchiha left.

You’re out to get him? You almost feel sorry for this fool who clearly doesn’t have a clue about the one-armed ninja’s identity.

“Don’t be mistaken,” the person smiles as if reading your thoughts, “I know who he is and what he’s capable of, after all...he’s my brother.”

Calmly meeting your gaze, the eyes meeting you flash red.

...

“Don’t look an Uchiha in the eyes”. It was the warning that was whispered into your ears as soon as you were big enough to run errands on your own. Naturally, you had to do it, and what met you was not as demonic as the warning stories had made you think – rather, they were kind, and wiser than the smooth face hinted at – although you never looked another Uchiha in the eyes just to be on the safe side.

It was impossible to discern the colour. Some days, they seemed leaden as if the rain clouds were gathered inside the boy too. A few times, in the morning when he watched where his fists struck the wood, the sparks from the cozy fire of the evening before still lingered in the warmest of black. What you loved the most, though, was when the gaze was locked onto infinity and they were soft like liquid.

...

Everything is different: the stuffy tea room with its noisy patrons has been replaced by somewhere deserted that seems to be carved out of grey stone.

How did I get here? Careful to move as little as possible, you take in the new surroundings only to find the place empty and with only one way in and out. A dull cold has already seeped into your feet as you stand there, lost as your bearings have nothing to latch on to – the only light is a torch in a wall sconce to your left.

Feet. They are bare, and a quick pat-down reveals that all of your weapons, your belt, and your headband have been stripped from you too. The sensation is uncanny, akin to nakedness. The logic behind it is obvious as it reduces the chances of a successful escape even if you were to make it out and establish a route.

On the other hand: you’re unharmed and unbound.

Turning, you have no doubt that the wooden door is locked but of course you go over to try, heart frozen near your throat when you push against it with your shoulder. Surprisingly, it does open and the screaming hinges sets the tiniest hairs on your body on end.

“Not wasting any time, Konoha-girl.”

You recognize the voice and the decorated nails on the hand that appears to pull open the door completely, and not just from the rest stop but from years of aching recollections that have been warped by watching Sasuke grow up with this man’s shadow lingering over his life. Over your life.

No. There’s no way. He died. Now your heart jackhammers a frenzied rhythm.

It’s a fool’s hope that powers the jab towards his neck. An idiot’s dream urging you to sprint past him. At least I tried, a bitter thought comments the moment both attempts are thwarted as a rib-crushing kick sends your tumbling backwards and you land sprawled in the middle of the room.

The ceiling is still spinning, it seems, when you sense the man’s presence loom over you. The fingers are cool (and surprisingly gentle) as the curl around the back of your skull, fingers digging into your hair to grant a tight grip to pull you closer by. Very close. A hand’s length separates the tips of your noses and you want to be oblivious to the way his mouth curves softly.

“You’re not leaving,” he whispers, “until I say so.”

Feeling and strength are beginning to return to your arms, including a sharp ache in your chest that grows with every shallow breath which you try to ignore. Should have restrained me, fool...and the thought dies there as everything shifts and the ground swallows your limbs.

“N-no...how...? No!”

He watches your struggles lazily before releasing his grip and sitting down next to you on the hard floor. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But you did. Wait...no! You haven’t...it wasn’t you...it can’t have been...

“You lie about your identity,” you scoff, regretting the outburst immediately as pain stabs coldly into your side, “so excuse me for not trusting you on this either.” There is a little smile there on his lips, full of sadness and regret that makes your insides cringe momentarily until you have the breath to explain to him (or yourself) why it can’t be true: “Uchiha Itachi has been killed!”

“Yes...and then I was brought back.” He’s impossibly calm as though he’s simply discussing the weather. “Twice.”

Double reanimated? As if! The war had been a horror to live through and would have been without people facing their deceased comrades and family members on the battlefield. However, once destroyed or sealed, none of the animated dead had walked again and all of them had been dealt with properly in the end.

Looking at the ninja, none of the signs of reanimation are prominent. On the other hand...even if they had been, you might not even notice it now that you meet the man’s gaze and the liquid infinity there.

“I could show you...but I’m afraid your mind can’t take the strain in your current state,” the so-called Itachi explains.

Mind, your aching heart still reels from fear of being broken once more, this is all in my mind.

Zoning out everything else, you focus on the flow of chakra within. Calming it, soothing it, until abruptly forcing the flow to revert. It feels as if your very soul drops for a second but the moment it returns to its place, the world is no longer made up of lies and imaginary sensations...and you’re still lying on the ground in a room made of stone, your ribs feeling as if they’re speared by frost. The only improvement is that at least your limbs are free.

And Itachi? Yes, you have to call him that because deep within you can’t deny it any longer.

The official reports hadn’t been released by the time you left Konoha and you’re not high enough up in the ranks as a shinobi to get the juicy information unless it’s necessary for a mission – and since your missions tend to be B or simpler A rank...well, I guess my current mission’s a bust but this is an important discovery!

A silky chuckle refocuses your attention. “Very good...I suppose I must strengthen my genjutsu against you.”

He’s so close, you could touch him. Shifting to lean against the wall, he rests his arms casually on the knees and begins to pick at the chapping nail polish.

“No need to,” you bite back a groan as you roll over to sit up, “I take it that’s how you got me here?” Pretty eyes are watching your every move as he nods in agreement. “Hm. It’ll probably be useless to ask where we are, so...why? Why show yourself now?”

Sitting cross legged, you find the pain lessens if you pull your clothes and arms tightly around your torso, restricting the depth of your breathing. Broken or bent ribs? Not that it really matters. First of all, he would be able to beat you in a fight anyways; secondly, even if you got out of here you wouldn’t know where “here” is; and third (but not least), you don’t really want to run from him.

Rather than answer, Itachi stands up and holds out his left hand for you. Puzzled, you take it. Soft fingers curl around yours and he pulls you to your feet, studying your movements and the twisting facial expressions.

He doesn’t let go.

Not when he guides you out the door and into a hallway shaped of the same kind of stone as the room was made of. Carved from.

Not when he slows down at the sound of the squeaky breathing the pace forces from you.

There doesn’t seem to be many rooms along the winding path. Here and there a door bars the way or you catch a glimpse of a dead-end that looks as though the excavation was abandoned or even disrupted by cave-ins.

You do your best to memorize the path, but frankly, your mind is getting fuzzy from pain and exhaustion. You have no sense of time, just hunger and tiredness weighing you down to indicate the loss of many hours.

“Just a bit longer, [Y/N],” Itachi soothes.

When did I tell him my name? You want to ask or at least protest, but it would be a choice between talking or getting to wherever he’s leading you...and you doubt he’ll let you pause.

A few dozen steps later and a short flight of stairs up, he ushers you through a door into a room that looks like a mix between a kitchen and work station. A fire is the only light and heat source (the smoke venting up through a chimney too narrow to be an escape route), casting a warm glow over the solid wooden table and chairs. Everything else is hewn from whatever mountain you’re inside.

“Sit,” your captor finally releases the grip and points at a chair near the fire and you obediently do as you’re told.

There are shelves and niches almost hidden in the dancing shadows at first holding with boxes, bundles, and various utensils. He knows where everything is, grabbing a few items before returning and laying it out in the light. Bandages. His movements are fluid and elegant, just like you remembered.

He motions towards your upper body, then turns to tend to the fire. “Strip.”

“That’s really not -”

“Some of your ribs are broken. Restraining them will minimize the pain.”

He’s right. Of course he is.

With clipped movements, you pull off the layers until you hesitate at the poor excuse of a bra. Despite the now roaring fire, the cold from the stone still seeps into your body and raises waves of goosebumps and tightens your nipples. It would be easier to apply the bandages correctly without the last bit of clothing in the way, but right now it feels like the only shield left at your disposal as Itachi turns back to you.

“We’ll work around that,” the man offers softly.

He works quietly at first. Hands winding the linen bandages around you adeptly, pausing each time the ministration intensifies the pain and causes the discomfort to escape as stubborn hisses. The purple nail polish is mesmerizing – simultaneously a contrast to the horrific stories of a killer and perfectly fitting the pretty, nearly feminine, traits you see. Especially the eyes. Sure, they’re filled with a bottomless sadness that you don’t feel comfortable acknowledging, but they’re beautiful. Haunting.

“You’re staring,” he hums without looking up.

Shit. “No. I just -...let’s say you’re who you claim to be,” you try to recover, “why’re you back?”

“To be his watcher.”

“Says who?”

This time, he stops and looks you dead in the eyes. “Otsutsuki Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths.” There are very few proper comebacks to that, so your captor continues without giving you a chance to think of something, “Otsutsuki told me about the bonds of families and that it can transcend blood. He knows hatred can cause – and has caused – too much harm...but something rekindled his hope that it can be overcome.“

I don’t have an eye on Uchiha constantly, but... “Does Sasuke know?” Returning to his work, Itachi avoids your gaze. “He doesn’t...”

“He’s finally found peace and is on the right path...I can’t risk undoing it.”

Bullshit! “Or you’re a coward who doesn’t have the guts to fa-” the rest is cut off as soft fingers tighten around your throat.

Blood-red eyes pierce your mind, numbing you for an eternity or a millisecond.

...

They were a means to reach the goal but their words still hurt as you followed meekly in their footsteps. Snobbery. Disdain. Considering how proud your two team members clearly felt, they had very little to show for their reputation as Uchihas and frankly, it was your skills rather than theirs that ensured successful missions and still, you never once looked them in their face. Instead, you kept an eye out for two other of the clan.

Where one was, so would the other be. Thick as thieves, the boys had found a companionship that complemented their differences in the same manner as the sun and the moon. But as opposed to your teammates who swooned at the brightness of the sun, you were drawn to the night and the calmness it brought whenever that boy was near – each time he met your eyes, time became meaningless.

...

The two of you sit in silence as the steam from the soup caresses your face. Your mind is blank, slowly starting to pick up on the absence of stone walls – wood has replaced the cold surfaces, making it almost unbearably warm with the bandages underneath your layers of clothes – and a plethora of questions begin to press against your conscious only to be held back as most of your thoughts get derailed whenever you look at the man before you.

Without the hat and cloak to conceal him, it’s impossible to ignore all the details you’ve nurtured in your memory for ages, such as the slight pull of his lips as he thinks or the elegance of his movements now that he gets up and refills his bowl from the pot hanging over the fire.

“Why are you following Sasuke?”

You should be diplomatic. “I could ask you the same.” You’re not.

“I already told you,” Itachi shrugs.

“Well I...I don’t believe you.”

But you do. There’s no denying anymore that this man is who he claims to be and so, why would he lie about his purpose? The sad smile. The quiet mannerisms. The idea that Itachi would somehow transcend death to watch over his little brother? That’s a mysterious intricacy that fits with your memories of him from before that night.

“You do...but something else is bothering you.” It’s a statement, not a question. “Am I not what you expected?”

No, you’re not. However, he’s what you remember with a layer of sorrow added on top. He doesn’t get to be sad. The little spark of anger is what you need. You nurse it, feed it until it flares up hot and bright and consumes your regrets and self-pity.

“Expected? I don’t know what I expected from someone like you!” Your voice is rising, shaking with years of frustration. “Clan killer. Murderer. I never told anyone but I was in love with an Uchiha! That night, I’d gone to bed, finally sure that I was gonna tell him but when I woke up...” Something inside you had broken that day and it still hurts now. “They told me how you’d left Sasuke alive...but the boy I loved was gone and no one knew I was mourning. Each time I saw him -” you can’t hold back a strangled sound and you realize, you’re crying -”I saw the ghost of...” The bowl of floating vegetables looks blurry until you blink angrily. “Ugh! But what does a teenager know of love, right? They’ll grow up. Get over it. Except I knew you were out there still and that you had all the answers. Why? The Itachi I remember wasn’t a mindless monster! I was told a story, but it doesn’t make any sense. If all the monster wanted was power then why spare Sasuke? Why did everyone else have to die?”

The inhalations are shallow and rapid, making you dizzy as you cling to the table and the spoon. It burns in your lungs and cheeks.

“I am sorry for the pain, I’ve caused you.”

Your gaze snaps to his face and you know he’s speaking the truth but it doesn’t matter right now.

“Sorry? Sorry?! You don’t get to be sorry! I missed y-...the boy, I loved was gone and it took ages before I could let go and stop mourning, finally accepting the truth had died with you and now...now you’re here? And it’s all back and I don’t understand! How could you?” Itachi doesn’t flinch as you launch the bowl towards him – he doesn’t have to because your aim is off and it clatters to the floor in a shower of shards and wasted food after hitting the wall behind him. “How? The boy I loved was not a monster! He wouldn’t do what they s-”

The echoes of your wheezing shouts ring through the room after the abrupt stop. Holding your breath, you wait for the ground to swallow you whole or for the man at the other end of the table to react and the fear is colder than the burning in your chest.

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Itachi eventually whispers, “they were just people who had been wronged and misguided until their arrogance made them blind.”

What? That’s not exactly what you had expected. Without explaining further, your captor gets up, handing you his bowl of food before beginning to clean the mess you’ve made.

“Don’t...I’ll get tha-” you begin.

He only has to look at you.

...

The dew had soaked your toes, cooling and soothing them after each kick that you landed on the wood stump. Pine. The new splinters refreshed the scent as they fell to the ground and you knew that birds would rummage through them in the hope of finding a morning snack once the training grounds were free of people again – they were already gathering at the edge of the clearing except for where Itachi stood.

The realization made you stop mid-kick, gaze locked with his and heart fluttering in your chest. How long had he stood there?

“They’re wrong.” You could barely believe he was talking to you. “Your teammates...don’t listen to what they say.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Itachi was gone and maybe it had all been your imagination running free.

...

Sitting up abruptly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the low light of the dying embers. Where am I?

Salt and drying seaweed is heavy in the air, somehow worming its way into what appears to be yet another room of stone. No...it’s a cave. You’re sitting on a bedroll splayed out onto the sand filling the place and you have no memory of arriving.

The dark form on the other side of the fire pit makes no move as you slip a hand underneath your shirt to confirm what you already know: the bandages are gone and there’s only a muted tenderness as you prod at the ribs. How long has it been?

“You’re safe,” Itachi’s gentle voice assures, and you feel your pulse slow despite the ominous situation, “go back to sleep.”

Yes. Sleep...hang on! Shaking your head, you fight the urge to succumb to the fuzziness that weighs your thoughts. “Why’re you doing this?” you mumble.

It doesn’t make sense why the man wouldn’t simply get the answers he want and then dispose of you or at the very least leave you locked up somewhere while he keeps following Sasuke from the shadows. Instead, your captor has put an effort into keeping you comfortable. Feeding you.

“I remember you.” His eyes reflect the red coals as they burn into your soul all over again. “Memories don’t do your justice, though.”

...

There is no world beyond the walls of the garden but a red sheet of sky dotted with storm clouds. The sliding doors have been pushed aside, opening the hallway to the view, and you know the wood beneath your bare feet should be silky from decades of use. You can’t feel it. There are no scents either, no breeze to toy with the soft fabric of your yukata, nor insects clicking from the rhododendron.

“This isn’t real.”

“No,” Itachi confirms from behind you, “but here I can create what you need. Who you need.”

Turning at last, there’s no reason to shy away from meeting his gaze even if it matches the fake sky. He looks real – as opposed to the familiarity of the home of your childhood that surrounds the two of you – and the ghost of a smile kindly tries to hide the sadness.

“...need. For what?”

The black strands falling into his face are strangely dull in the nightmarish light. “Closure.”

“That’s not possible.”

Wanting to leave, to run away and avoid what Itachi intends, you find yourself rooted in place by an invisible force. Even turning your face away is impossible and you pray that he doesn’t understand the well of emotions he must be able to see in your eyes.

“This is a chance for you to say goodbye to the one I killed. The one you...love,” he pauses to scrutinize your expression and you try to remain neutral, “because you do. You still love him.”

“You have no right...” swallowing hard, you fight to keep the words back, “no right t-to claim to know what I need!” Finally, you manage to close your eyes but they snap open again at the touch of his fingertips on your forehead. “This isn’t something you get to fix like -”

...

The world has shifted again and you’re back in the ocean side cave. You can feel how uneven the sand is under your knees and shins even with the bedroll to soften the press and some some the grains have found their way in between your toes...but none of that matters because Itachi is still right before you, his fingers gently resting on your brow.

A pop-and-crackle from the fire pit is the only sound other than your shallow breathing. You know, he knows. Eyes widened in nigh-comedic understanding, it’s as if he sees you for the first time.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

You barely manage to whisper, “for what?”

His fingertips send shivers along your spine as they trace a path, allowing him to cradle the back of your neck in his palm.

“Everything” Itachi’s lips brush your cheek, “for breaking your heart in so many ways and for making you think your love was unrequited.”

[madswritingvoid]

Say You’re Sorry

Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader

Words: 3k (oops haha)

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ only. Oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, swearing, slight choking, first time writing smut should probably be a warning itself, sexism, Max Phillips is a warning probably.

You knew it was a bad idea. Well, actually, no you didn’t. Not fully. The voice in your head was just screaming at you to stop - there were other ways to get his attention. Other ways to make Max feel bad for what he did during the Synersavers presentation that didn’t require you stooping this low. Fuck it, you figured, if he can go around and do whatever he wants to get his way then so can I.

Fixing your hair and outfit in the mirror one last time, you went back into the office looking for the desk you usually avoid like the plague. Max Phillips, fuck you.

Earlier That Day

“So you see, Mr. Jacobson, our third quarter projections have us coming in on top by two million dollars and the fourth quarter is looking even better. I mean really champ, if these numbers were anymore amazing they’d be as hot as your associate there in that fetching skirt,” Max winks at the woman taking meeting minutes for your potential new client, causing her skin to blotch, “fucking unreal. Pardon my French,” he finishes, earning a big laugh from the CEO of Synersavers, the new bullshit placebo pill that was supposed to alter the brain’s natural neural pathways to promote synergy. You weren’t sure what dreams synergy was helping pathetic humans to achieve, but it meant a bonus if they signed on so you made sure that PowerPoint presentation was the best slides of your career.

You scoff, worried that if you roll your eyes they’ll get stuck. You know Max Phillips was quite the charmer, you knew better than anyone in the office. This past year saw him go from being just your hot vampire boss you had a crush on, to your hot vampire boss that was now your boyfriend. 

While you never made an official statement to your coworkers, you quietly signed the papers Amanda in HR needed signed and let the sound of you screaming Max’s name in his office while he was balls deep inside you let the rest of your coworkers know of your relationship. Overall, Max was a great boyfriend. Better than expected even - attentive, caring, protective to a fault, all while still being that loveable (?) piece of shit frat boy extraordinaire he had been at the beginning. 

You knew he still had to lay on the charm to close sales from time to time, never actually violating your relationship in any way, but after the fight you had this morning you didn’t think flirting with the only person in the meeting who did not actually control whether or not this partnership was going to happen right in front of you was the best move.

“Mr. Phillips,” Jacobson says, once again only acknowledging Max and completely ignoring you as he had been for the entire presentation, “you got quite the silver tongue. But I like that about ya, I think you get what our product is all about and I wanna make this partnership work. I’m surprised your presentation is as good as it was, because if you’ll pardon my French, if my secretary looked as delicious as yours does I’d be too busy fucking her left, right, and centre to even think about the fourth quarter anything!” He laughs and claps Max on the shoulder and you tense up, sure that Max is going to say something. Not even because he’s your boyfriend, but because he landed the sale and doesn’t have to be as sleazy as this dickhead is. 

“See that’s where you’re wrong Jacobson, it’s almost like I’m working double to avoid her. Just doesn’t get the mojo flowing, y’know? Maybe we should switch, what do you think sweetheart?” He looks over at the still flustered secretary, “Come on and work for me and we’ll work on some new ways of making synergy happen,” he wags his eyebrows and you’re surprised this poor woman hasn’t slid right off her seat. You’re stunned. Even as Mr. Jacobson laughs and brings a laughing Max into some sort of capitalist bro hug, you can’t bring yourself to move. It isn’t until you hear the squeak of the wheels from the chair Mr. Jacobson’s secretary was sitting against the shitty meeting room carpet that you snap back to the present and shut everything down. By the time you finish everyone is long gone, leaving you to stew in your rage.

A hesitant knock on the meeting room door makes you jump as you’re met with a sheepish looking Evan in the doorway. You were never a big fan of Evan when you started, kind of thought he was a wimp but he was nice enough. After getting with Max and learning their shared history, you couldn’t stand Evan, but were able to be far more professional when needed until Max.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was still in here after Max and the Synersavers people left,” he shrugged. “What the fuck do you mean Max left with them?” You asked through clenched teeth. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, Evan took a deep breath before telling you, “yeah, um. They left for a late liquid lunch from what it sounded like, Max said you would be too busy learning how to make a paper clip bracelet to join them… Sorry, he’s such an asshole. You don’t deserve that, especially not from that bastard,” He couldn’t meet your eyes. Even though he still tried to tell you to leave Max every single day, you appreciate him being there this time.

There were many things you could be mean to Evan for, but deep down you knew he didn’t deserve the wrath of your anger this time. 

Later That Afternoon

After taking the elevator up to the office to mentally cleanse his mind from that mindless lunch with that absolute creep Jacobson, Max was trying to come up with the best apology for you. He knew he didn’t have to be so forward flirting with that secretary, what the fuck was her name anyways, in order to win the sexist CEO over. But he was feeling petty after your fight while you were getting ready for work he figured it wouldn’t hurt to remind you that many other women find him quite the catch.

“You’re lying! You have to be lying!! There’s no way that happened oh my god,” Max stops dead in his tracks as he hears your giggles from inside the office. “It is! I totally saw Tim practising the dance moves the day after that Kelly Clarkson concert in the men’s washroom. I didn’t even know she had dancers, but from what I saw it really must have been a hell of a show,” Evan says as you throw your head back and let out another over-the-top cackle. You’re sitting on top of Evan’s desk, resting your hand on his shoulder as he sits in between your open legs, clearly enjoying the attention. 

You’re hamming it up, he knows that, he knows that’s not what your real laugh sounds like - the laugh he gets to hear when he really does something that you like. He knows you don’t mean it but he’s immediately flooded with anger and guilt. He obviously didn’t realize how much the day had taken a toll on you and now you must be really mad if you’re going to Evan to get back at him.

“Oh my god Evan that’s too funny,” you giggle and place a hand on his shoulder, “you just made my day! I won’t tell Tim anything, it’ll be our little secret,” you wink. Evan’s blush deepens at the touch, maybe you weren’t so bad after all and if Max (and Amanda at this point) didn’t look out he would maybe ask you out for a drink sometime soon. Bring you back to the land of the living.

Deciding he’s absolutely had enough, Max quietly comes up behind Evan and slaps both hands on his shoulders after seeing you move yours back to your lap, causing him to freeze and let out a little squeak. “Slugger, I’m sure whatever’s going on here is just too funny, but didn’t I ask you to finish up that presentation for tomorrow’s meeting with NuevaWeight?” he pouts, “I really thought you were taking this job seriously buddy, but maybe I should just get Andrew to take over…”

“N-no Max, sorry. Yeah the presentation is almost done, it’ll be ready before the end of the day,” Evan stammers. Max finally meets your eyes and smirks, “and you can meet me in my office. Apparently you think you can stop doing your job and distracting my employees.”

You can’t even speak, your jaw set and eyes burning from the absolute rage you feel right now. Yeah you’ll meet him in his office, but it won’t be so he can lecture you about whatever bullshit he’s already thought of. “Of course Mr. Phillips, meet you there,” you manage to snap back, calmly making your way to his office. Anyone walking by you immediately gets out of your way, your anger coming off in waves making your undead coworkers shiver.

Clapping Evan on the shoulder one more time, Max saunters over to his office, ready to make you beg for his forgiveness after that little stunt. As soon as he opens his office door he realizes that won’t be happening.

You’re sitting in his chair, legs propped up on his desk in a way that makes your skirt ride up and expose more thigh than what HR might deem office appropriate. “Ah, Mr. Phillips, so nice of you to make it,” you smirk. “Sweets, I think there must be some sort of misunderstandi-'' you cut him off with a dark look and stand up. Walking up to him you close his office door and push him against it, “No champ,” you sneer, “I think you’re confused here. I’m not the one who decided to be a very, very bad boy by flirting with someone else and insulting me in front of new clients.” Chest to chest, your hand slithers up to grab Max’s throat. Even though he is a vampire who could toss you around like a ragdoll, you know he’s letting you be in control. He likes it.

“While you were out entertaining I’ve been thinking about what I could do to make you really sorry, baby. You were already on thin ice from this morning, but now you’re drowning,” you squeeze a little harder on his throat making his eyes roll back. “What are you gonna do? I’m so sorry,” he whispers. You take a moment, just looking into those eyes you love so much, before answering.

“Maybe I’ll sit on your cock. Let you fill my pussy up but not let you cum, because only good boys get to come, you know that Maxie. Maybe I’ll just use you like my own walking, talking dildo. If I’m so replaceable you won’t mind not getting to fill me up? Right?” You smirk again as he whines, his hands clenching because all he wants to do is make you feel good now. 

“You wanna run that mouth, Phillips? You wanna make everything think you’re so fucking special when I know you’re really just a scared little vamp, huh?” You say with a pout. Grabbing his hair, you force his head up so you can look right into his eyes that are now almost completely black from lust. “Come on big shot, if you wanna be a big boy then you gotta show me that mouth can do something other than just spew bullshit, slugger.” 

That’s all the permission he needs. He hoists you up in his arms and thanks to vampire speed you’re now sat on his leather couch, skirt up around your waist, underwear ripped clean off, fully exposed to his hungry eyes. “Baby, I’m so sorry,” he pouts, “let me make you feel good. I just want you-” You’ve heard enough, pushing him down so his mouth finally reaches your core. Moaning at finally tasting you, Max wastes no time taking your clit and sucking hard, already teasing your entrance with one of his long fingers. 

“Y-Yes Max, fuck! Be a good boy and make me cum just like this,” you moan and clench around the finger inside of you, knowing you’re absolutely dripping onto the couch underneath you. He adds a second, then a third, making you arch your back until you’re almost sitting up from how good he’s fucking you with his hands. His mouth doesn’t stop, sucking and licking, spelling out his apologies against your body. Knowing you’re close, he starts focusing on that spot inside of you that drives you wild. 

“Oh! Oh, Maxie yes. Such a g-good boy,” you pant, meeting his hand thrust for thrust trying to reach your high, “make me feel so good please please please baby I’m right there, I-” you can’t finish that sentence as your vision goes white and all you can do is let out a strangled moan that sounds like his name.

Once your legs start shaking you pull both of you up, undoing his belt and pushing him onto the couch so you can straddle his waist. You wrap a hand around his neck and start nipping at the area, rocking your soaked pussy along his aching cock that was now free from the confines of his dress pants a few times before sinking down on him. A wicked grin stretches across your face as his moans get louder. He chokes when he feels you gush around him, not expecting you to come again so soon but you were still sensitive from his mouth, the hair above his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, but you wanted more still. 

Picking up the pace, you squeeze around his throat again and start taunting him, “You gonna replace me baby? Yeah? You gonna find a pussy that takes you this good? Be my guest. Go right now and find something better, or show me how goddamn sorry you are.”

Granting him permission to take over, Max flips you on your back, making sure your head is supported by one of the couch cushions. He immediately wraps your legs around his waist, angling one leg to let him sink even deep inside of you, your moans mixing together as you both revel in the feeling of him finally being inside of you. Wanting to prove himself he wastes no time pulling out just to start slamming back into you. 

You moan and clench around him, making him hiss and he doesn’t let up. Watching him disappear inside of you over and over again, he starts babbling his apologies. “N-Never baby. Could never replace you. Never gonna find a pu-pussy this fucking good. Look at you, so perfect, so so perfect taking my cock like that. I’m sorry. You’re so good. I don’t deserve it, it’s- fuck it’s so fucking good. Best pussy of all time,” he moans as you clamp down on him, your third orgasm ripping through you. 

“Yes - yes Max, that’s fucking r-right. I’m the best pussy you’ll ever have,” you moan again from being so full. You know he’s sorry so you decide to let him finish after all. Taking your hands off his shoulders, you start tangling your fingers in his hair and bring his face close to your so your lips are almost touching, “you did so good Maxie,” you coo, “you cock made me feel so fucking good I know you’re sorry now.” He shudders at your words but keeps his steady pace, trying to make you cum again, still holding back his own impending orgasm. “Thank you baby, ‘m so so sorry, I love you and I just wanna be good for you-” “shhh shhh Maxie, I know I know. You did good baby, now show me how good you are and cum inside of me.” 

That’s all he needs. 

Something between a groan and growl comes deep from within Max as he finally lets go, pushing himself as far as he can inside of you as he starts painting your walls. Coming down from his high, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck as you start peppering him with kisses wherever you can reach, carding your fingers through his hair.

“I’m really sorry baby,” you hear him mumble into your neck, “I love you.” He kisses along your throat and you hum, moving your head to give him more access. “I know Max, I love you too. I forgive you. But try that again and I’ll cut your dick off in front of the whole office,” you laugh.

He chuckles too, continuing to shower you with love. “As much as I want to stay right here forever baby, let’s go home and I can keep showing you how sorry I am,” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows to earn a giggle from you, “sounds good Maxie, you’re lucky I’m just sooooo forgiving.”

Untangling from each other and making yourselves as presentable as you care to be, you leave the office hand-in-hand, ready to see what the rest of the night has in store.

[charming-2d-boys]

something sweet with the reader acting like an older sister to gon and killua! like they're a hunter too and meet them at heaven's arena, maybe treat the boys to food~ just something sweet and supportive<3 (if you can only do one character then just killua) thank you °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

This is such a cute request, anon! 😍

Thank you and enjoy it!

A/N: pretty long, but I hope it’s cute enough and makes up for it

Here is part two, by the way!

Like a family - Older Sister-like!Reader x Gon & Killua

   The first time you met Gon and Killua, you had just refused Tonpa’s toast to friendship and luck. Gon had just spit out the sips he’d taken while Killua was fine and actually asked for a few more. You were worried about the two boys and actually kept an eye out for them, but throughout the rest of the First Phase and until you reached the Visca Forest Preserve, they both seemed to have become friends and were in high spirits.

   You’d finally met them during the Fourth Phase, on Zevil Island, by accident. Well, you met Killua first, as he was just walking around like it was a stroll in the park. And then you felt another examinee nearby. Scared that they’d target Killua, you jumped in front of him, but instead, he pushed you away and actually disappeared, making you look around frantically until you heard a sickening crack and then a thud.

   When you looked where the sound had come from, you saw Killua with one hand soaked in blood as he took the person’s badge and walked towards you.

   “Why were you following me?”

   “I wasn’t, I was just resting here for a bit. I thought you hadn’t heard them and were going to get hit.” He didn’t seem to really believe you, but he’d sensed you from before, so he knew you most probably weren’t lying.

   When you invited him to take a seat on one of the overgrown tree roots and eat something, you thought he’d refuse vehemently - what if he thought it might be a trap and you’d try to poison him? But to your surprise, he accepted your offer and you actually talked for quite a while, eating some sandwiches you’d made before arriving on the island. When you asked him about how he accepted and your confusion regarding Tonpa’s drinks, he only said that he’s been exposed to pretty much every poison out there since he was young.

   If that wasn’t shocking, what he told you afterwards definitely was: torture with electricity, water, assassin training, Nen training... and he was still a child. Killua didn’t really seem surprised by your shock; he got that a lot. And when you apologised because it was horrible how used he seemed to be to having this discussion, he actually smiled, something between a sad and a proud smile.

   “It made me stronger and more resistant than others.”

   “But you’re still only a child. That’s no childhood, Killua. And I’m sure even you’re aware, you’re smart enough for your age.” He was and he understood. That was one of the reasons he even left for the Hunter Exam - he had to get away from his family and their behaviour, at least for a while.

   Your worry seemed genuine and he liked the feeling of someone caring about him and his well-being. Sure, he had befriended Gon and had a few people in his life who actually cared and he considered friends. And maybe you’d become someone like that as well.

   The two of you talked and looked out for each other until you decided to split up, going your separate ways and promising to meet again during the next phase.

   Gon, who you met officially later was a lot friendlier, without any sort of suspicion whatsoever and he seemed to already consider you a friend, if the way he was animatedly talking to you about his home and family was of any indication. You’d met him after Hisoka helped him with Geretta and you found him while he was still struggling and wobbling around.

   He was pouting and grumbling about how Hisoka wouldn’t accept his badge back and when you asked him if he was okay - you had seen the whole confrontation from further away and were actually worried Hisoka would kill him - he seemed to be a bit startled. Gon had been deep in his thoughts and despite sensing your Aura, your voice still made him flinch in surprise. You’d only asked if he was alright, and despite a bit of apprehension, he still answered you, pouting and bruised, but still friendly.

   You’d cleaned his face as best as you could - he allowed you when you asked him if you could so any cuts he had wouldn’t get infected - and actually put some really cute bandaids with animals on some of the smaller ones. Gon’s eyes sparkled as he smiled and thanked you. He was adorable and you just had to pinch his cheek when he smiled. Again, you promised each other that you’d meet again.

   And just like pretty much everyone else, you’d managed to move from one phase to another, survive, fulfill the requirements and managed to obtain your Hunter License. The Final Phase, the tournament, was the last time you saw both boys: Gon was unconscious and Killua left after killing his opponent.

   You didn’t really hear much after that, but you needed to train and develop your Nen. That was why you chose Heaven’s Arena. Well, earning money on the side and bringing your reputation up certainly couldn’t hurt.

   You’d already managed to cross the 200th floor and were currently in the lobby, ready to head out for a little change of scenery, when you saw Gon and Killua. You called their names and hugged them both and they returned it quickly - well, Killua blushed and patted your back, but in the end he just squeezed you briefly. When you invited them out to eat something, stating that it was your treat, you laughed at their sparkly eyes and the barely audible grumbles from their stomachs.

   You all went to little restaurant owned by a local family, where the food felt like it was melting in your mouth and tasted heavenly, while the prices were great, and talked with them. They’d already been at Heaven’s Arena for a few days but you’d all been so busy with your own matches and training that you didn’t even notice each other. And now that you knew that they’d be at the arena for quite some time, you asked them to meet up with you as often as you all could.

   Of course they couldn’t say no. Pretty much everyone at Heaven’s Arena was looking for rookies to crush, so it was nice to have someone - besides Wing and Zushi - who would accept them with open arms and not try to fight them. You also trained with them and, at Wing’s request, tried to let them discover more about their Nen and the uses of Aura by themselves.

   It was hard sometimes, having to watch over them and knowing that you could help and make things easier for them. But you also knew that it was necessary for them to learn some things through trial and error. You would supervise them, and even Zushi, whenever you had time and offered to give Wing a little break - which took some convincing, but even he knew he needed some time for himself. You felt so proud by their evergrowing progress and were sure to tell them that and encourage them, while also making them take regular breaks.

   You couldn’t lie though. When you had a match one day that turned out to be a tad more difficult than usually, you heard Gon, loud and clear, yell Go, (Y/N)-nee-chan! Of course, he was soon followed by Killua, who was yelling while the both of them were waving their arms like crazy. And, of course, they were followed by Zushi, while Wing only shook his head amused and only briefly waved at you. You could only smile before taking a deep breath in and channeling everything into your finishing move, coming out victorious.

   When you left the ring and got into the hallway, you were quickly ambushed by the three boys who hugged you, congratulating you and talking loudly about how cool the match and your moves were. Wing was a few steps behind, looking as kind as ever and congratulating you as well. You laughed when you offered to treat everyone to dinner that night and they all accepted immediately - again, Wing took some convincing, but came with you and the boys anyway. It had, officially, become one your most prized victories at the arena and you all celebrated with a lot of food and dessert that night.

[killjoyhistoryarchive]

Mike Milligram: The Lost Killjoy

Edit: On July 21st 2020, a Mike Milligram comic by Gerard Way and Shaun Simon was officially announced. However, I’ll leave this post as it is for future reference.

—

In 2009, while My Chemical Romance fans were eagerly awaiting news on their upcoming album, Gerard Way had another surprise in store: the announcement of a new comic series called “Killjoys.”

Co-written by Shaun Simon and illustrated by Becky Cloonan, Gerard told CBR that the series would “deal with much more mature and controversial themes, such as hate crimes and homophobia, the homogenization of American culture and American life.” Unlike “The Umbrella Academy,” which was set in a fantasy world, “Killjoys” was set in modern-day America.

But what nobody realized was that even after an album, two music videos, and a six-issue comic series, Gerard’s original conception would never see the light of day.

In 2008, Gerard Way and Shaun Simon developed the Killjoys universe in a frenzy of inspiration. Gerard’s original sketch features Mike Milligram on the left–named after Gerard’s brother Mikey Way–with a host of other characters that accompanied Mike on his journey. The comic was announced a year later at San Diego Comic Con, with a release planned in 2010.

With My Chemical Romance wrapping up their fourth album, Gerard and Shaun were ready to start writing. Becky Cloonan drew concept art for Mike Milligram, as well as promotional artwork that they planned to use at the Comic Con announcement. However, the Mike Milligram art was scrapped and replaced with a simple image of the Killjoy spider–a move that could later be seen as prophetic.

In 2009, “Killjoys” was an entirely different concept. There was no Party Poison, no Dr. Death Defying, no Battery City, no girl with special powers. The original comic involved a surreal road trip through America that reunited offbeat characters and confronted harsh realities along the way. In 2013, Shaun Simon offered this description in the introduction to the special hardcover edition of the comics:

The old version of the story focused on Mike Milligram, a late-twenty-something living in a desert trailer park and working a crappy job at a supermarket. Mike’s teenage years were a blur. He couldn’t tell if the things he remembered had actually happened or not. Part of him believed he was part of a gang called the Killjoys who fought fictional things in the real world. The other part of him believed it was all just a dream. Music was the only thing that kept Mike going, so when the music was erased from his Ramones tape, it sent him over the edge. He went out and got his old teenage gang, who were now living normal lives, back together because, yes, it was all real. Other members of his gang included Ani-Max, now a high school history teacher; Code Blue, a rabble-rouser who was a working girl in Vegas; Monster, a new young member they met on the road; and Kyle 100%, who was a B-list actor now. They all had strange powers based on objects. Halloween masks and costume accessories, puffy jackets, toy ray guns. It was a story about a group of old friends getting together and discovering what America really was. Reaching deep inside its pretty facade and pulling out the ugly guts. (It was semiautobiographical. I toured with Gerard and his band for a couple of years before realizing I needed to find my own path.) The gang would have found out that another former gang had now become the largest health care corporation in the country and were hell bent on making the world a safe and clean place by removing all that was dirty, like the Ramones. It would have been a great story, and I’m sure parts will end up in Gerard’s and my’s future work.

Of course, we all know what happened after that announcement. After Gerard took a fateful week-long trip to the desert, MCR decided to scrap “Conventional Weapons” and fueled their energy into writing “Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.” But even as Gerard delved into this new post-apocalyptic version of the Killjoy universe, the comics remained the same. As late as 2011, Gerard claimed in an interview with Artrocker that the comics hadn’t changed at all:

No, none of the characters, even our characters, are in it. It is a completely separate thing, even almost a separate setting. It shares all the ideals behind the record and the theories and the commentary but it is nothing like the videos you have seen. I think the car is probably the only thing that’s the same!

But as the band took on more responsibilities–filming music videos, promoting the album, going on tour–the comics kept getting pushed back. First the release planned for 2010; then it was pushed back to 2011. And while the era had kicked off without a hitch, MCR eventually hit one of the first of many roadblocks: they didn’t have enough money to film the third video. So as Shaun Simon told CBR, the original story featuring Mike Milligram was scrapped, and replaced with the story of the girl and the Ultra Vs:

[A]fter the record, Gerard had built this whole world around the Killjoys. When it came time for the comic, Gerard called me up and said, “We ran out of money. We wanted to make the third video, but we don’t have the money. So do you want to make the idea for that video into a comic?” We started talking about ideas, and we had so many that it turned into this whole series.

In an interview with Paste (2013), Gerard went into more detail about the process:

The deal is that I had written three videos (“Na Na Na,” “Sing,” and “The Only Hope For Me Is You”), and the third video had never gotten made. By the time we had completed the second video, we just ran out of budget money. At the time, somebody was managing us and not keeping an eye on this stuff. Long story short, there was no budget. So I wrote a video, and of course it ends up being the most expensive one, as the last part would usually be. But we couldn’t make it! Killjoys started its life as a very different comic. It was heavily-rooted in nineties Vertigo post-modernism. There’s a lot of very cool, abstract ideas in it; I wouldn’t even call it a superhero book. That (comic) was a visual and thematic inspiration on what would become the album Danger Days. It was pretty loose, though. This was going to be my interpretation of the story, so there’s way more science fiction involved. And what I need to say to the world needed to be a little more direct, so I boiled it down to something that’s still very smart and challenging, but I thought was definitely easier to understand through song or visual. Then (Killjoys artist) Becky Cloonan drew a 7-inch for “The Only Hope For Me Is You,” which was going to be the last video single. I realized I was out of budget, so I said ‘just make this the girl from the first and second video at 15. And have her shave her head or chop her hair off like in The Legend of Billie Jean, because that’s how the video was supposed to start.’ So (Cloonan) sends this drawing over and I’m on tour with Blink 182 in a hotel on an off day. I get this drawing and I’m so immediately blown away by it. I call Shaun, my co-writer and co-creator, and I say ‘open your email, I’m going to send you something.’ I ask him ‘how does this image make you feel?’ We talked for two hours. By the end of the conversation we both realized that that image was the comic, and the third video was basically the comic. So we figured how we were going to make this interesting and exciting for six issues and complete the story. And that was the final direction. It was pretty obvious to us.

In a way, Mike Milligram’s spirit lived on, as fans noticed the similarities between Mike Milligram and Party Poison. But it’s inaccurate to say that Mike Milligram became Party Poison, though “Party Poison’s real name is Mike Milligram” became a persistent rumor in the fandom. Mike’s story was not Poison’s; he wasn’t a post-apocalyptic rebel, but a teenager searching for his identity in modern America.

Will Mike Milligram’s story ever be told? At this point, it’s not likely. But his tale offers a glimpse into the creative minds of Gerard Way and Shaun Simon, and makes us ponder the fact that with a few changes–the comics being released earlier, for instance, or MCR having the money to fund the third video–the comics could have been entirely different.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (10)

Hellooooo! For 300 followers, I decided to drop chapter 10! Please enjoy!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2202

Warnings: maybe some language? 

% approximately the last weekend of october %

By the time everyone and their families had gotten to the city and eaten dinner, it was around 8:30 pm, so you and Tom decided to try and knock out your project work.

You sat in the breakfast lounge next to each other at a table as other team members and families conversed. You noticed Nikki and your parents talking and gave Tom a glance.

Since this was your last ever volleyball tournament (at least for high school), your parents had come and you were getting to stay in their hotel room instead of a team room.

You mostly worked silently when you and Tom overheard some people talking about homecoming.

“Who’re you taking to homecoming?” he asked casually. “And don’t say Paddy or Harry.”

You laughed at that one.

“Uhh, no one. I don’t really have anyone to take so guess I’m flying solo with the girls again. Why? Who were you gonna go with?”

“Eh, nobody. The guys brought it up earlier to me and I was just curious.”

“Oh, really? I thought you had girls lined up at your feet. And a couple guys, too.”

“I’m pretty sure I could say the same about you. And you mean freshmen? Yeah right. I’m not about to catch a case, not that I’m remotely attracted to any of them.”

That comment made you laugh again.

“Yeah, well, those same freshmen are the ones spreading rumors about us. It’s stupid. We oughta stick it to them somehow.”

“What are you getting at..?” he trailed, suspicion in his voice.

“I don’t know… What if we just went to the dance together? I mean, we’re already on homecoming court and are most likely gonna win, so what if we just showed up together to annoy them? It’s not like we have to make it some big deal or anything.”

He looked at you for a minute, like he was doing calculations.

“So… you and me, no matter whether we win or not, go together? You don’t think that’s just gonna make things worse?”

“I’m pretty sure anything we do will keep causing rumors so long as we’re doing this project. We don’t have to, I just thought it would be funny to see everyone’s reactions.”

“You know what, let’s do it. There’s nothing for us to lose. Let’s just not tell people we’re going together and then just show up there. If anyone asks just say we’re going solo?” He suggested.

“That’s not going to work completely… what if you came to dinner with me and my friends beforehand? We can surprise them all and then the rest of the school at the dance. It would be really sus if I bailed on dinner and I’d like for your mom to take some pre-dance pictures.”

You decided to shake on it and get back to work, but your stomach was doing the same fluttering it had been the past couple weeks. By the time you two finished, it was just past 10 pm and most of the parents and even some of the team had gone to their rooms. 

The only people you knew nearby were Sam and Julia, who were sitting on a chair together watching something on her phone, and of course Tom, who was watching snap videos from friends at the Halloween party that had just started.

“I think I’m gonna head upstairs. Even though top seed doesn’t play the first round, I have to be up kinda early,” you explained as you stood, gripping your laptop across your chest.

“What’s your room number, I’ll walk you up. Some of the people here have been giving me weird vibes.”

“Umm, let me check,” you pulled out your phone with the text your mom had sent earlier. “415.”

“Oh that’s perfect. We’re in 416. Just across the hall.”

You said goodnight to Sam and Julia as you passed and went to the elevator. As you waited, a young couple, probably in their mid twenties came up, obviously drunk. They were dressed up for the holiday, and you were surprised that they were seeming to cut the night short. 

“Oh my God babe, look, they’re like younger us!” the girl attempted to whisper, giggling. Your face burned as you glanced at Tom, who looked as uncomfortable as you.

“That’s so dope! How long have you been with this little lady?” the guy said directed to Tom, giving you a once over, as all four of you entered and pressed the buttons to your floor.

“Oh we’re no-” you began when Tom interjected.

“‘Bout a year, man,” he smiled, tossing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you in tight. The elevator doors closed.

You simultaneously wanted to push him away and fall into his tight, warm grip. You decided to play along as you continued to hold on to your computer. 

“Best year ever!” you exclaimed, leaning up to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Oh come on! You can do better than that! Kiss him! Kiss him!” the girl egged on. You both chuckled nervously and gave each other a look. There seemed to be a silent consensus to just do it for the bit.

Tom moved his arm to your waist and lightly pressed his lips against yours, smiling as he pulled away. You were left a little stunned as the inebriated couple clapped and cheered.

You could tell they were going to say more when the doors opened on the fourth floor.

“Well here’s our stop. Nice talking to you. Come on, princess,” Tom said, the both of you rushing out of the elevator, his arm still around you. 

Once the door closed, you both let out a sigh as you turned down the hall towards your rooms.

“Well that was...  weird,” you stated, the both of you walking pretty slowly. You were keenly aware of the way his hand tightly cupped your side as you clumsily knocked into him a few times.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Sorry about that. I didn’t know what they were gonna do and that guy had creepo vibes and I panicked.”

“I get it. We are married, after all,” you said quietly, wiggling your left hand. “Well, here’s my room. Thanks for keeping an eye out. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you at breakfast. You’re gonna kill it tomorrow,” he said softly, squeezing you in a side hug one last time before letting you go. Your side tingled from where his warm body was no longer touching as you entered the hotel room.

It wasn’t long before you were also saying goodnight to your parents and laying in the dark room, reflecting on the wild day that was Friday. 

You knew that back home everyone was still partying, as you’d received pictures and videos of your friends dressed as Guy Fieri, but you’d had a whole different kind of experience, unsure if it was a good or bad one.

Tom’s lips were kinda soft though

And his big hands around my waist fit nicely

You pushed the thoughts away as you finally fell into deep slumber.

%

You headed to breakfast wearing sweats, a baggy tee, and a pair of socks and slides. Looks were not a priority right now. While you waited on your waffle to finish cooking, someone appeared next to you, yawning.

“Morning, princess,” he muttered, stretching and rubbing his eyes.

“You really aren’t a morning person, are you?”

“Nope. Now how much longer are you gonna be here because I’m in need of a waffle,” he asked, nudging your sides. It seemed as though you were both pretending the previous night had never happened.

Once you both built your plates, you went to sit with some of the team when Tom plopped into the seat next to you. He immediately began digging in, but paused when he realized the whole table was starting at him.

“What’s wrong, you want me to bless the food or something?” he looked to you.

“No it’s just surprising that you’d come sit with us is all,” one sophomore said. “I mean, you’re like the most popular guy in school.”

“Yeah well the real legend is this bit-” your glare stopped him in his tracks, “...I won’t call you that word, but anyways y/n ranks above me. If anything, she’s the intimidating one.”

The girls giggled and went back to their conversations, occasionally looking at Tom still. 

“Sorry I almost called you a bitch. I meant it the good way,” he whispered into your ear.

You stared at him for a few seconds as you finished chewing a bite of apple.

“I’m just confused as to why you came over here with all the girls.”

“Well it might come as a shock to say that you’re the only person here that I’m friends with other than Sam, and he’s on thin ice after hogging the bed sheets last night,” he explained, shooting a glare to his younger brother, who was obliviously eating with Julia and his mom.

“Today’s gonna get real boring then if I’m your only friend.”

“Hey, remember our conversation Monday? Cute uniforms?” 

You slapped him on the chest for that one.

%

A long, hard day of games had led up to this moment. A whole season. A big portion of your life.

It was probably between 7 and 8 pm. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that the scoreboard said 24-23 your team. Meaning, one point for you equaled a final win.

You wiped the sweat from your brow as you stood on the back line of the court, nervous and determined.

There were cheers from all sides of the gym as you prepared to serve one last time, hopefully for the better.

The upper ref blew her whistle and motioned her hand for you to serve.

One

Two

Three

bounces on the gym floor. A toss in the air. A slap to the ball.

The ball passed the net and sunk right to the gym floor without a single person touching it.

It took you a second after the whistle blew and the scoreboard changed to realize that you had won the game. You were snapped back to reality by the loud cheers of your teammates and supporters.

The team came and congratulated you, slapping your butt and squeezing your shoulders. They pushed you to the front of the line to shake hands with the other team and refs under the net.

You didn’t realize until the team went into a huddle that there were tears slipping down your cheeks and everyone reached out to love on you and Anna. All those years working for this moment and it had finally ended. 

Coach made her speech short and sweet, because you could tell she was holding back tears as she looked between you and your co captain.

The two of you led one last cheer for your team. A tournament official came to hand the team the trophy, give you another tournament MVP medal and both you and Anna all tournament and all state awards. You hung them on your neck proudly, happy to feel their weight.

Upon turning around, the first person you saw was Tom, who had a big smile on your face. You immediately rushed to hug him, jumping a little into his arms.

“Told you you could do it!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms over your sweaty frame. You pulled away, arms still loosely holding each other.  He casually brushed the residual tears from your cheeks.

“And what’s this? Some new ice?” he asked, grabbing all three medals in one hand. He raised one up pretending to bite it.

“My drip is just too clean,” you joked, flipping your ponytail over your shoulder. You heard someone clear their throat behind you. It was your dad.

You went and hugged your parents and talked for a few minutes, then were called over for Nikki to take team pictures. 

Everyone showed off their fiery hair ribbons (you had stayed true to your joking promise) and got pictures with the trophy. You and Anna also took some biting your medals and alone with the large award.

You finally headed to the locker room, changing and packing up your volleyball bag one last time. 

The end of an era was a sad one to say the least.

You said goodbye to everyone as your parents got the car ready. Tom came up.

“Hey. Good job once again. I’m proud of you. See you Monday?”

You felt yourself blush as your stomach flip flopped.

“Thank you, Tom. I’m glad you were here this weekend, especially last night. See you then.”

You gave one last side hug before getting in the car and preparing for the long ride home. You were sitting still for a while reflecting on the day when your phone lit up.

“How’s the ride so far?” Tom asked over text.

“It’s been 20 minutes, Tom.”

“Well if I’m going to be stuck third wheeling Julia and Sam I’m gonna need someone to talk to.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, continuing the conversation all the way home until you were falling asleep in bed.

%

A/N: ahhh thank you all again for 300 followers! I genuinely can’t believe that there are that many people who are so interested in my writing! Especially those of you who have been around since the beginning, when my writing was especially bad haha. Love you all!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @justafangirlduh, @supraveng,

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 4. Low Flying Stationery

Summary: Steve realises that the only way out of the seeming hole he’s dug himself into is to come clean about his feelings to Katie, only that’s easier said than done.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Angst and a pair of total dumbasses in love… A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @angrybirdcr​ for her lovely little edit.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 3

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist 

   “I went under, the world was at war, I wake up and they say we won. They didn’t say what we lost.”

“Yeah, well we’ve made some mistakes along the way. Some very recently…”

Steve woke up with a start, taking a deep breath as he blinked, coming out of his sleep addled haze. It didn’t take a genius to work out why his mind had taken him back to that particular moment in time, and it wasn’t wasted on him either that this time he was the one who had made the big assed mistake the night before…

Glancing at his clock, he decided that 5:00 am wasn’t too early, so he changed and headed out for a run, pounding his frustration out on the wet ground beneath his feet. He was so annoyed at himself for simply letting Katie walk out with no protest at all. He should have stopped her, gone after her, he realised that now.

It was official, he was the world’s biggest moron.

He knew now that the only way to salvage anything from this mess was to be honest, regardless of how she felt or didn’t feel as the case may be. So, as he thundered round past the Lincoln Memorial for the fourth time, he started to plan out exactly what he was going to say. By the time he got home an hour and a half later, and climbed into a scalding hot shower, he was feeling slightly more positive. 

He just hoped she’d hear him out.

***** After a night of tossing and turning, alternating between being angry at herself and pissed at Steve, Katie had also been up at a ridiculous time, but unlike Steve she had curled up on her sofa with a film, counting the minutes down until it was an acceptable time to call her brother.

“Seven thirty AM?” Tony drawled as he answered. “You wet the bed?”

“Fuck off” She shot back “No, just had a shitty end to yesterday and thought I’d call to hear a friendly voice. Beginning to wonder why I bothered.”

“Bad day?” Tony’s voice softened “Ok Kiddo, I’m all ears.”

“Nah don’t wanna talk about it.” Katie said, and she didn’t. There was NO WAY she was telling Tony about Steve and whatever the hell nearly went down. That was a whole shit storm she didn’t want landing at Steve’s feet. “So what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much.” Tony sniffed.

“How’s things with you and Pepper? Still behaving?”

“I’m insulted you even asked me that.”

“I know you too well.” She chuckled.

“Well, if you really wanna know they’re going great. I’m thinking of taking her out to the Island in a couple of weeks. A dirty week away…”

“Ok too much information” she grimaced as Tony’s chuckle hit her ears “You’re nasty”

“I’m in love!” He said in a sing-song voice, making Katie roll her eyes.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you love someone more than yourself.”.

“What is this, Kiddo? Insult Tony day?” He scoffed making her laugh. “I love lots of things more than myself.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“You, Pepper…” the line was silent for a few seconds before he finished “Nope, that’s it.”

Katie laughed “I’m honoured.”

“So you should be, it’s a very hard list to make.”

They talked for another half an hour about all sorts of crap, Katie simply happy to hear her brother’s voice as it had been weeks since she’s seen him, far too long in her opinion. Eventually they both had to get ready for work so after breakfast and a shower she felt a little better although her stomach was still flipping slightly at the thought of seeing Steve. He’d messaged her a few times last night but she’d completely ignored him, and was feeling a little shitty about it now, if she was honest.

But, there was nothing she could do except apologise and hopefully they could move on and in time forget it.

When she walked into the Tactical Ops Office,  Clint and Natasha were already in there, eating a pastry each, both with a coffee in hand and she was touched, as always, to see one waiting on her desk for her. But not touched enough to let Barton get away with using her desk as a foot rest.

“Get your feet down…” Katie slapped at his legs.

“Rude,” he muttered, removing them and placing his feet on the floor. “I bought you coffee.”

“Which is both appreciated and needed.” she pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks Hawkeye”

“You look like you aint slept all night.” Nat eyed Katie shrewdly as she shrugged off her coat “Who is he?”

“I should be so lucky” Katie mumbled dropping into her chair. She didn’t tell them that the reason she hadn’t slept all night was thanks to a certain blue eyed super soldier, but not because he was in bed with her, more so because he wasn’t.

“Better take a nap this afternoon then.” Clint pointed at her. “Want you on good form for the party.”

“What party?” Katie frowned.

“Rumlow’s 40th…”

She groaned. “That’s tonight?”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded, before he let out a snort as he looked over his shoulder at Nat “Now this is gonna be interesting.”

“What?” Katie frowned

“He’s referring to the fact I’ve been planning an outfit for a few days…” Nat yawned, examining her nails.

“Yeah and seeing you try and figure one out in a few hours, Nova, is gonna be amazing…”

 “Not like I’m short of options,” Katie shrugged “I mean half the shit in my closet hasn’t seen the light of day in years.”

“You can always gift it to me.” Natasha quipped back

“Speaking of gifts, has anyone done a collection for dearest Brock?” Clint looked around. “I mean it is his 40th party after all, we should probably get him something…”

 “Like what?” Nat asked.

“I dunno. What’s he into?” Clint pondered.

“I know what he’d like to get into.” Nat responded with a smirk. “Nova’s pants…”

At that Clint let out a bark of a laugh just as Steve walked through the door, expertly catching the pencil that Katie threw at the Archer.

“Beware low flying stationery.” Steve quipped as casually as he could, tossing the item onto the desk in front of Clint who leaned back in his chair, putting his feet back on the surface. Steve locked eyes with Katie for a second and he saw her take a deep, steadying breath before she looked over at Clint as he responded to Steve’s joke.

“It wasn’t flying, it was thrown.” he smirked. “Just Stark here getting a little upset about Nat’s joke.”

“I wasn’t upset, it was just a shit joke.” Katie rolled her eyes

“But it’s true, that’s what’s so funny!” Clint snorted “Admit it, you know he’s after a bit…”

“Can we just change the subject, please?” Katie groaned, turning to the keyboard on her desk. She could feel Steve’s eyes burning into her back as she tried to concentrate on the screen, ignoring him.

“You coming tonight Cap?” Clint asked

“Rumlow’s 40th?” Steve asked and Clint nodded

“Did everyone remember except me?” Katie looked round.

“Pretty much.” Nat nodded

Katie scowled.

“You’re a proper little ray of sunlight today.” Clint snorted at the expression on her face.

“I told you I’m tired.”

“Try going to bed and sleeping.” Nat quipped and this time it was a highlighter pen that flew across the room.

“Carry on and it will be a stapler.” Katie frowned. “I was alone, thank you. Unless you count my pillow.”

Steve looked down at his feet

“Was the pillow good?” Clint asked, and she glared at him, picking up the stapler as he laughed, holding his hands up.

“Anyway, Romanoff…” Steve deftly changed the subject as Katie slammed the stapler back down.  “You ready for ops drill or…”

Nat groaned and pushed her chair back across the floor with a scrape. “Slave driver…catch you later Stark”

“Yeah see ya…” Katie didn’t bother turning round.

“I’m due on the range in 10 with the new recruits so…” Clint stood up and followed Nat before he stopped and turned back, glancing over his shoulder again before he spoke.

“Listen, don’t tell Widow I asked this but what’s the dress code for tonight? I better start sorting out what I’m wearing whilst I get chance…”

Katie stopped before she turned slowly in her seat and smirked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You hypocrite! It’s smart casual and if you don’t want me to tell Nat, it’ll cost you a beer”

“A beer for your silence… why haven’t we done this trade before?”

“Fuck off!” she flicked him the finger as he disappeared out of the office leaving Steve and her alone.

 “Hey.” He spoke gently, testing the water “You alright?”

“Yeah” she nodded, looking up at him and he smiled, that fucking smile again and she cleared her throat. “Honestly I’m just tired.”

“You ran out on me.” he pointed out, studying her face.

“You didn’t exactly stop me Steve.” she shot back and he sighed.

“I know.” he swallowed “But you could have messaged me back.”

“Sorry, I was just…” Katie ran her hand over her face. “Actually, I don’t know what I was to be honest.”

There was a pause, a little awkward silence filling the room before Steve took a deep breath.

“Listen.” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “About last night, what…well, what nearly happened. I err, I wanted to say that I-”

“It’s fine.” Katie cut him off quickly. “I get it, it was an emotional day and there was a lot for you to process and deal with. I mean, I was all over the place so I expect you were too. Guess we just…”

She trailed off and something inside Steve died a little. She’d felt sorry for him, that was the only reason they’d shared that moment.  He struggled to keep his face straight as he shrugged, looking down at his hands, all thoughts of his planned speech flying out of his head.

“We’re okay, right?” Katie looked at him, and he glanced up, smile fixed on his face.

“Sure” he nodded, hopping off the desk. “Listen, I need to…” he pointed to the door.

“Yeah, course. I have a tonne of stuff to do anyway. I wanna get home in time for a nap”

He chuckled. “So I’ll err, see you tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, see you there.”

Katie watched him leave and as soon as he was clear of the room Katie took a shaky breath trying to stem the tears that were threatening once more to pour down her cheeks.

****** 

A wave of sound, both music and the noise of chatter hit Steve’s ears the minute he opened the door. He spotted Nat and Clint leaned against the bar and after saying hi to Rumlow and anyone else who greeted him he made his way over to the other two avengers and smiled.

“Hey Cap” Clint said, clapping him on his shoulder. “Beer?”

“Thanks Barton.”

Clint ordered his drink as Steve glanced around the room, looking for that familiar shock of brunette.

“She’s not here yet.” Nat drawled and he looked at her.

“Right.” He nodded simply, accepting the beer.

“Nice shirt” Clint grinned and Steve glanced down.

“Very modern.” Nat said,

“Romanoff,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re a pain in my ass…”

“She’s a pain in everyone’s ass.” Clint shrugged and Nat simply quirked an eyebrow at him as Steve gave a small chuckle, taking a slug of his beer.

“It’s one of my more endearing qualities.” she quipped.

Clint opened his mouth to say something but stopped as his eyes fell on someone and he smiled. Steve turned slightly to follow his gaze to see Katie making her way over towards them and boy, he had to stop his mouth falling open because she looked amazing. Tight black jeans, patent red heels and a sleeveless red top that plunged down her cleavage and tightened in to her waist before flaring out slightly. Her make up looked different, it was still light but she’d done something to her eye lids as they shimmered with a gold colour that made her eyes stand out even more.

Clint dropped a kiss to her cheek when she reached his side and Steve got a sudden hit of her perfume, the underlying floral tones that he associated with her, and he took a deep breath.

“About time…” Clint smiled at Katie. “We thought you had got lost.”

“Yeah, sorry I needed a nap.” she shrugged, nodding to Natasha and Steve.

“You want a drink?” Clint turned back to the bar waving at the tender.

“Yeah, I’ll have a gin thanks.”

“I like this.” Nat mused, her hand toying with the hem of her top. “New?”

“No, I dug it out from the doldrums of my closet.” she smiled, thanking Clint for the drink as he handed it to her. “I told you, I forget what’s in there sometimes.”

“Must be hard being so rich you can afford that many clothes you forget what you have.” Nat smirked, and Katie flipped her off drawing a snort from the red head.

 “Table over there.” Clint spoke, nodding over to the right. “Shall we?”

The four of them made their way over and settled into a comfortable conversation as normal, but both Katie and Steve were ridiculously aware of one another. The smells of cologne and perfume, the feel of his shirt clad arm as it brushed against hers when he moved, her laugh which rang out over the table…

It was torture for them both.

After four rounds of drinks however, Katie had started to relax a little, dare she even say enjoy herself, so it was bound to be a matter of time before something else went wrong.

And it did, in spectacular fashion.

“Who’s round is it?” Clint announced “I’m ready for some shots…”

“Mine, I think.” Katie glanced round for one of the guys who was providing table service, when someone talking to Rumlow caught her attention. Tall, short dark hair, dark denim jeans and a white shirt. To most of the people in the room, the back of that man could have been anyone. But to Katie, well, she knew instantly who it was.

And her good mood sank as fast as it had been rising.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.” She mumbled. Steve, who had felt her tense next to him, looked down at her as Natasha frowned.

“What?”

“Ward’s here…”

Clint’s hand slipped and he almost sent the remainder of his beer flying as he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing.

“Ward as in, your ex Ward?” Steve asked, feeling the heat rise in his neck. She nodded and across the table Clint started grinding his teeth in a combination of anger and irritation.

Katie watched the back of her ex’s head, and then he turned to look around the room and their eyes locked. His mouth fell open slightly before he composed himself, and turned back to talk to Rumlow, running his hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was trying to act cool.

Katie snorted and turned back to the table.

“Want me to go punch him?” Clint leaned over towards her. “Because I’d really like to.”

Steve found himself thinking that was a great idea but Katie shook her head.

“Just ignore him. I am.”

*****

After three further gin and tonics and two tequilas had worked their way through her system Katie excused herself and headed out to the bathroom. Once she was gone, Clint shook his head.

“I cannot believe that fucking prick showed up.” He growled, waiving the waiter over. “Damned it I hate him.”

“I gathered.” Steve smirked as Clint ordered another round of drinks.

“I mean…what the fuck…why is he even here?” the archer continued to rant and Nat gently laid a hand on hi arm.

“Clint, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” She soothed.

“You didn’t see her Nat, that night when she caught him…she was a mess.”

“So was his car.” Natasha grinned and Clint snorted.

“His car?” Steve asked.

“Yeah…” Clint gave a small laugh. “She smashed up the body work…and I left four arrows in his tyres.”

Steve felt a surge of affection the archer as he took a deep breath, looking around. There was no sign of Katie, or Ward. Something seemed a little off, like things weren’t quite right…

 “I’m gonna go check if she’s okay” he stood up, missing the glance that Natasha and Clint shared.

As it happens, Katie wasn’t ok. Nothing about walking out of the bathroom and bumping, literally, into your cheating fucker ex was ever going to be ok.

 “Hi K.” Ward said, as his hands gently grabbed round her arms steadying her, his familiar smell washed over her senses. She pulled back immediately, shaking off his grip.

“Don’t call me that.”

He sighed “C’mon…”

“What do you want, Grant?”

“Hey, you bumped into me.” He chuckled. “You look amazing by the way.”

She snorted, and looked away.

“Look, I just wanted to say, well, I hate how we left things, you know? And I…”

“How we left thigs?” Katie’s eyes locked back onto his as she let out a sarcastic laugh.  “The only thing I left was your apartment after finding you in bed with some blond bimbo.”

“The biggest mistake of my life.” Grant sighed, “I honestly mean that…”

“Is this the part where you say sorry for cheating on me and beg for my forgiveness?” Katie watched as the dark brown eyes that she had once found irresistible bore into hers and she felt the anger simmering again. She’d worked so long to get this man out of her system, but here he was, daring to try and smarm her into accepting an apology.  The sheer audacity of it was making her want to scream.

“I am sorry. I genuinely am…”

“You’re sorry you got caught. There’s a difference.”

“No, that’s not it.” Grant shook his head. “There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t thought about you and how I fucked up.”

He ran his hand through his hair and Katie shook her head.

“Let’s be honest, she wasn’t the first was she?” She looked up at him. Grant dropped his head and that was all the confirmation she needed. “Our relationship, it was a car crash.”

“I loved you.”

“Seriously? You’re trying that one?” She looked at him, and then burst out laughing. “Oh Jesus…” She shook her head in disbelief and made to walk round him but he grabbed her arm.

“What’s so funny?”

“Let go of me.”

“I asked you a question…”

“And she asked you to let her go.” A familiar voice said and Katie looked up to see Steve stood in the corridor, hands on his belt buckle as the door to the main bar area swung shut behind him, causing the loud background noise to fade slightly. “She won’t need to ask again.”

“Sorry…I…” Ward, let go of her arm as he composed himself and extended his arm in greeting.  “Captain Rogers. We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m-“

“I know who you are, Agent Ward” Steve looked at him, not even moving to take the man’s proffered hand, and he saw Ward’s jaw twitch, as his arm dropped back to his side, fist balling and unballing.

“I see. ” Ward raised an eyebrow, looking from Katie, to Steve and he took a deep breath and nodded. “I meant what I said. I really am sorry.”

Katie didn’t reply, simply watched him leave as he brushed past Steve who moved to the side to let him pass, but only after shooting him one last contemptuous look before the Captain turned back to Katie.

“Are you ok? Did he hurt you?” Steve asked her, stepping forward, noting she was rubbing the place on her arm where Ward’s hand had gripped.

“Hurt me?” she frowned.

“Yeah, your arm.” He nodded to it.

“Oh, no.” she said, shaking her head as her hand moved. “That was just weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, I mean, well for so long I thought about what I’d say to him when I eventually did see him again, you know, how much he hurt me, broke my heart, but right then when I got the opportunity, I realised I actually don’t give a shit anymore.”

Steve smiled. “Good, I’m glad he didn’t upset you.” There was a pause before he gestured over his shoulder. “You err, you wanna go back in?”

“Do you think anyone would notice if I left?” She shrugged. “I don’t wanna be here anymore and there’s a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream at home with my name on it”

“What Ice cream?” Steve asked, looking at her, raising his brow hopefully and she shook her head, chuckling.

“Mint choc chip.” she looked at him, before she turned to head towards the door of the bar before she stopped, and spoke again, without looking back. “Suppose I can share.”

With that she pushed the door open and Steve grinned, following her out.

*********

“I don’t know why you wear shoes so high if you can’t walk in them?” Steve snorted as Katie let out a groan, kicking her shoes off as soon as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Because they look good.” She shrugged. “I’m just gonna get changed, won’t be long. Grab yourself a drink.”

Whilst she was in the bedroom Steve did as he was told and grabbed a beer for himself, and poured Katie a glass of wine before carrying them into the lounge and setting them on the coffee table. He had to stop himself from staring when she walked back into the room, all long legs and thigh tattoo, in a pair of denim shorts and a hoody. She dropped heavily onto the sofa besides him, taking her wine and gulping down a large mouthful.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asked, looking at her.

“Stop asking me that, Steve.” She snapped. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I didn’t…”

“No, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “That was uncalled for.” She looked at him and gave a soft smile. “I’m fine, honestly. And thank you, for being there before.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Steve shook his head. “I care about you Katie, you know that. And, well, frankly, when I saw him with his hand on you, I wanted to smash his face into the wall.”

Katie let out a huff of laughter as she glanced at her wine glass.  “You’ll have to get behind Tony in the queue.”

Steve looked down at his beer, before he took a deep breath. “The guy is a dick.” he said, tilting side on so his arm was over the back of the sofa behind her. “And I don’t mean that just because of tonight. If you were my girl I wouldn’t be looking twice at anyone else.”

Katie smiled, as she looked up at him. “That’s because you’re a gentleman.”

“No.” he shook his head, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “It’s because you’re worth so much more than that.”

“Sure.” she shrugged and Steve pressed his lips together in a firm line of frustration.

“Don’t…”

“What?” she frowned.

“Do that.“ he pressed.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down. You do it all the time” he sighed.

“I don’t.” She swallowed, looking away.

“Yes, you do. You think so little of yourself but you shouldn’t. Katie, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met” With that he took a deep breath, there was no going back now. The hand that wasn’t draped around the back of the sofa reached out and tangled in hers and as she raised her head to look at him, her eyes were filled with tears and he swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry as the blood pounded in his ears, his heart beating so rapidly he thought it might burst through his chest.

He had to make her understand, just how deep his feeling went.

His right hand gently moved from the sofa back to the side of her jaw where he simply cupped her face and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. When she opened them again, it was just in time to see his gaze flicker to her mouth, before he leaned forward, a movement that was slow and seemed to take forever, until his lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss that set every single nerve in her body on edge.  

Steve pulled away slightly, just enough so that he could look into her eyes, make sure she was okay with this, and finding nothing but eagerness on her part, he pressed his lips back to hers.

The entire world around them faded to nothing and they both relaxed as this time the kiss deepened slightly, his hand still cupping her cheek as he slid his tongue gently across her bottom lip. She obliged, opening her mouth slightly and at the touch of her tongue on his Steve felt a jolt of electricity surge up his spine.  Eventually they broke away and Steve gently slid his nose along hers unable to keep the smile off his face as their foreheads rest together.

“Where did you learn to kiss like that, Captain Badass?” She whispered and he gave a chuckle.

“To be honest with you…” he sat up slightly, his right hand returning to where it had been before, resting on the back of the sofa “I don’t think I have until now.”

She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear with a hand that was trembling from nerves, adrenaline and absolute pleasure at being kissed by the utter God of a man sat on her sofa.

“So err…” Steve licked his lips. “I know this might be a little late, so to speak after, well, erm, yeah, but I’d really like to take you out, you know, on a date?”

Katie blinked as he stuttered over his words, and suddenly became aware she was chewing on her lip. She felt heat in her cheeks as she looked at him and nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That crooked grin she knew and had come to love spread across his face.

“You free tomorrow?” he asked before hastily correcting himself “It’s Saturday, or is that too soon? We could always go next weekend instead if you want or-”

“Steve,” she cut him off, gently squeezing her fingers round his, “tomorrow is fine.”

“Great, tomorrow…that’s…great…” He trailed off as Katie held his gaze.

The air between them seemed to crackle and this time it was her that initiated the kiss. This one was slightly deeper, the fire in her belly was hotter and that naughty part of her would have loved nothing more than to throw her hands round his neck and pull him down on top of her. But Steve Rogers was nothing if not a gentleman, and she didn’t want to rush into anything. She’d waited too long for this to fuck it up by moving too fast. With that in mind she willed herself to pull away.

“So err, you wanna watch a film or…” She glanced at the TV.

“Yeah…” Steve gave a little chuckle, his eyebrows raising a little before he took a deep breath. “You need another drink?”

Katiee nodded and he hopped up off the sofa, taking her empty glass to top it up, frankly glad of the chance to cool down. He’d had to stop himself then from pushing her down on the couch, but he knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. He wanted to do this properly, it was too special to risk.

Katie flicked through the android box, and with a grin found the perfect film, one that was a comedy, not romance or action, something easy.

“The Sandlot?” Steve asked as he handed her the filled glass, reading the title on the screen. “It’s about baseball?”

“More about kids having adventures over summer but yeah, baseball features a lot. It’s funny, you’ll like it” 

“Sure I will.” Steve said, as he settled down next to her.

She pressed play on the film, threw the remote onto the coffee table and lifted Steve’s arm, sliding into place beneath it, tucking herself in against his side with her legs curled up beneath her. It was something she’d done so many times before but this time, well it felt different. Steve pressed a kiss to her head before turning his attention back to the film, his arm draped over her shoulders, fingers gently tracing shapes on her upper arm.

They sat in the dark living room, watching the film, not another word shared. They both laughed, Steve grimacing at the Chewing Tobacco scene where the kids all vomited off the side of a fairground ride, it reminded him far too vividly of the time he had barfed after riding the Cyclone, and at the end when it showed one of the kids playing for the LA Dodgers Steve was the first one to break the comfortable silence, letting out a little snort.

“I still don’t like the fact they aint in Brooklyn any more”

“Really, you never mentioned it.” Katie said sarcastically, sitting up.

He rolled his eyes before he stretched. “I should be going.”

“Yeah, it is late.” Katie agreed, standing up as he did. “And I got a big date tomorrow.”

“Yeah” he asked, paying along as he walked to the door “Anyone I know?”

“Just some guy from work.” she shrugged. “He’s pretty hot but don’t tell him I said so.”

Steve laughed. “You’re a nightmare, you know that?” he smirked.

“Yeah but, you love it.” Katie shrugged as the elevator arrived.

“Yeah, I do.” Steve smiled softly, dropping a gentle kiss to her lips. “Goodnight, Doll.”

“Night Stevie.”

He squeezed her hand and stepped into the elevator and as soon as the doors had closed, a huge shit eating grin spread across both their faces.  

***** Chapter 5

**Original Posting**

[jobrookekarev]

Baby’s and Mom’s First Day

Chapter: 1/1

Words: 3897

Summary: It’s Jo and Alex’s first day back from maternity leave at Grey Sloan, but Jo has a hard time leaving Helena in the daycare.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson Karev, Helena Karev.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Comfort, Daycare, Fluff and Angst, Separation Anxiety, Jo’s Abandonment Issues.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: I wrote this one day after being in the nursery to help out. I got to spend time with a baby girl who spent her first day there. I know her two older siblings, and I know the family and was excited to meet her, but she was not happy to be there. Luckily, she didn't scream the entire time, but she did pretty much fussed for the first half-hour. Then I got her distracted with a musical toy enough so that she calmed down and chewed on a car for the rest of the time. Luckily for her, fussy and crying babies don't freak me out at all, but the separation anxiety is still hard because I know they don't trust me yet. I just started thinking about how Jo would have a hard time if it were her kid, due to her abandonment with her birth mom, but that Alex would be there and would help her through it and so this idea popped into my head, and I just had to write it.

……………………………………………………………………

It was Alex and Jo's first day back at work after four wonderful months of leave with their new baby, Helena. Things were finally getting back to normal as the Pandemic had officially ended, and regular surgery schedules were resuming at the hospital. It was Alex’s first day being away from his girls for more than an hour and he missed them a lot. So the first chance he got to take a lunch break, he went straight down to the daycare center. His intention was to pick up Helena and pop up over to the OB floor and grab Jo for lunch. 

However, when he got to the daycare, the lead teacher, Sonia, informed him that Jo had come in with Helena and stayed with her for an hour. They had planned for Jo to get her used to the daycare and to Sonia and then leave. However, Sonia said that the first time Helena had cried, Jo had swooped in and taken her back. Alex sighed and thanked Sonia before he headed back up to the fourth floor. 

He knew that this would be hard for Jo, especially with her abandonment issues and separation anxiety stressing the situation. At first, she didn’t let anyone other than him hold Helena, not even Meredith or Link. They had been working through things in therapy together and it had gotten better over the past few months. Jo had gotten more comfortable with other people holding Helena, but if she cried, it was all over, and Jo needed to have her back. Alex knew that Jo's anxieties about leaving her at daycare would be an ongoing thing, but they had talked that morning, and Jo had said she was ready.

Despite this, Alex still smiled when he saw them on the OB floor together. Jo had Helena wrapped in the moby and was talking with the nurses. He knew she and Carina had a surgery planned for later this afternoon. It was a laparotomy for an endometriosis case she had that would take less than an hour. With Jo busy in surgery, it would be a great opportunity for him to put Helena in the daycare as Jo would be focused on something other than her separation anxiety.

Helena squealed and waved her hands, smiling as she caught sight of Alex. All the nurses smiled at him as they left, and Jo turned and smiled as well, grabbing Helena's hands. “Look, it's Daddy.”

“There are my girls,” Alex said as he leaned in, kissing Helena’s head before greeting Jo with a quick kiss to her lips. “So, no daycare today?”

“No, I thought it'd be better for her to join me on my rounds, and she has charmed all of the nurses so far, isn't that right, baby girl?” Jo said, smiling down at her as Helena reached out with her chubby fingers to grab Jo's chin.

“Jo,” Alex sighed before she cut him off.

“We’re just not ready, okay,” Jo insisted, raising her voice as she folded her arms protectively over Helena. “She cried ceaselessly after I left and I just can't let her cry. I know that it’s good for her to be with other caregivers and to be around other kids, but I’m just not ready to be away from her for a whole day.”

“I was going to say that if you think Helena’s not ready and you need more time off, then maybe we should go home?” Alex said, wrapping his arms around her waist and leading them down the hall to a more private setting. 

Jo bit her lip and looked away from Helena and him. As much as she loved her baby and loved being with her, Jo also missed working, and he knew it. This surgery had been all she could talk about for the last week. 

“I don't want to put her in daycare, but I want to do the surgery this afternoon. I just wish that I could bring her in there with me, as silly as that sounds.”

“It's not silly at all,” Alex said, tilting his head as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. “Why don't you and I get lunch and you can feed her and then I’ll hold her while she naps. Then maybe I will take her to daycare with me and just hang out and see how she does. Then after your surgery, we can trade off for the rest of the day, or if you want to go home, we can go home.”

“What about your patients? I thought you had a surgery today too?” Jo asked as her brows creased together. 

“It got pushed to this evening because the parents fed the kid breakfast,” Alex said with a shrug. Despite their clear instructions, this did occasionally happen, and they had pushed the surgery to the evening.

“Okay,” Jo said with a nod, still not entirely on board with the idea, but at least she looked more relaxed.

They got situated in the cafeteria with lunch. Alex took Helena for a minute as she began to fuss and pulled at Jo’s pink scrub top, squealing when she couldn't get it down. Helena whined and cried as she was eager to nurse and was frustrated with him and his inability to feed her. Jo finally took her back and got her latched on her breast, much to Helena’s delight. As she nursed, her fussing turned into happy little eating grunts that Jo always said he made when he was happy. As they ate lunch, several of the nurses and other doctors came over to say hi and coo at Helena. After Alex burped her, Helena's eyes quickly dropped as she fell asleep in his arms. 

After lunch, they went up to the surgery floor as Jo met with Carian, and they prepped for their laparotomy. Together they walked to the door of the OR’s scrub room. Jo wiped away Helena’s drool from her chin and adjusted the blanket again before pulling back and just staring at her. Jo bit her lip and swayed back and forward as if she was swaying with Helena and her arms. 

“Say it again,” Jo insisted, her eyes glued to Helena. 

“I'm going to hold her while she naps so that she wakes up with me there,” Alex said, going over the plan with Jo again as he watched her continue to sway. “Then we're going to go down to the daycare and play with Scout and if she feels comfortable, I’ll leave, but I'll make sure that she's okay before I do. Then I'll meet you back here after your surgery and we will go down and pick her up from daycare together.”

“Okay,” Jo said, but despite her words, Alex knew she was hesitant about it, and to be honest, so was he. However, he wasn’t worried about how Helena would do in daycare, but rather how Jo would be with her separation anxiety.

“Jo,” Alex said, waiting until she looked up to catch his eye to demonstrate a deep breath. She mirrored his breath, slowly coming down. “Raise the arm of the patient.”

“Raise the arm of the patient,” Jo said, kicking off her shoes and planting both of her feet on the ground before she continued the steps aloud. “Count down to the 4th intercostal space. Prep and drape in a sterile fashion. Inject with lidocaine, make an incision above the rib...”

Alex nodded and they went over the procedure together. As Jo talked, she stopped swaying, and Alex could see her take deeper and more steady breaths as she calmed down. When she finished, Jo paused and nodded. Alex smiled and leaned in to kiss her before she put her shoes back on. 

Jo gave Helena's head one last kiss before she turned around to face the door. Alex saw her shoulders rise again as she took another deep breath and opened the door. Jo turned around and Alex gave her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up before the door closed. He waited there watching as Jo scrubbed in as she occasionally glanced back at him. After she finished scrubbing, Alex gave her one final wave before she nodded and walked into the OR. Alex took a deep breath as he realized how nervous he was for her before he took a few steps back, taking another deep breath as he finally walked down the hallway. 

Alex took Helena up to the pediatric ward and rounded on a few of his patients, all of whom were intrigued by the baby in Alex's arms. Even the teenagers who always complained about the other screaming babies on the ward were interested to see one that was cute and asleep, but more so to poke fun at Alex for being a dad. 

Alex had one of the nurses texting him from the OR and they told him Carina and Jo's laparotomy surgery was running longer than expected. Helena slept for almost an hour before waking up and promptly spitting up all over him. Alex sighed and changed into a new pair of scrubs before taking Helena down to the nursery.

Sonia welcomed him back, but he didn't check Helena in just yet. Instead, he laid her down next to Scout and played with them for a few minutes. Then he tentatively let Sonia take his place and hold Helena in her lap. Helena kept looking back at him every few minutes to double-check that he was there before returning to her play. Eventually, though, she started to check in with Sonia as well, and it was then that Alex knew he could leave. 

Alex looked up at the clock, he knew Jo would be out within the next few minutes, and if he was going to do this, he had to do it now. He leaned down and placed a kiss on Helena’s head before quietly leaving the daycare. Then he turned around the corner and froze as he heard Helena start to cry and Sonia gently trying to reassure her. Alex knew that she was taken care of, that Sonia was holding her, rocking her, and comforting her, not just letting her cry it out. Alex told himself that he would just wait for a few minutes to see how she would do.

Ask any parent, and they will tell you that the worst part of leaving your kid was hearing them cry as you left. It broke his heart. Alex was good at remaining calm in the face of a crying baby. If you're going to be a Peds surgeon, then you have to get used to crying babies. At a certain point, you learn to remain calm no matter how hard they cry, but that didn't stop him from rubbing a hole in his scrub pants as he sat on a gurney in the hall. Alex rubbed his hands up and down his legs, desperately trying to resist the urge to go in there and comfort her. 

When her cries stopped after the longest minute of his life, he sighed in relief. He tiptoed over to peek through the window to check on her. At first, he didn’t see them, but then he spotted Sonia with Helena in the rocking chair with a book. He watched them for a minute more as they read together until Scout walked over, and Helena smiled as he waved a ring toy in her face. 

Alex tiptoed away, content that Helena was okay, and went back to the OR gallery to watch Jo and her surgery. Jo was in her zone as she commanded the OR. As she finished, she even let the intern finish closing, overseen by Carina, of course. Alex rushed down to meet Jo as she exited the OR. Still wearing her blue scrub cap, Jo's smile fell the second she saw that his arms were empty. 

“Where is she?” Jo asked, instantly panicking.

“She is in the daycare playing with Scout, but she’s not crying, and she’s been there less than an hour,” Alex reassured her, putting two hands on her shoulders and rubbing up and down her arms. 

“She's okay. She’s in the daycare, just like we planned,” Jo said, still swimming with a far-off look in her eyes as she took a few deep breaths. 

“Yes, I kept her with me while she napped, and we went and played with Scout for a little while. Then I left her with Sonia, but before I left, she was happily playing with Scout. She was fine, Jo.” 

“Okay, this is a good thing,” Jo said, nodding, still trying to convince herself of it. 

“It is. It’s good for her socially and developmentally to be around other kids and with other caregivers,” Alex nodded, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

“I still hate it, though,” Jo said, looking like she was going to cry and Alex questioned whether it was the best thing to do.

“Okay, then let’s go pick her up, but before we get her, let’s just look through the window. I want you to see how well she’s doing,” Alex said, putting his arm around Jo’s waist as they started to walk down the hall.

“Okay,” Jo said, slipping out of his arms and taking off to run down the hall. 

Alex ran after her, and he knew that she wouldn’t calm down until she saw Helena. Jo looked like she was going to throw up as they both ran down to the daycare. He thought that it would be better for her if he dropped Helena off. That way, it would be easier for Jo to get used to it if she didn't have to leave Helena herself. However, watching now as she panicked in the elevator, he second guessed himself. Alex wrapped his arm around Jo’s waist as they turned the corner, pulling her back before she entered the daycare in a panic. He held Jo against his chest and pointed at Helena through the window as he saw her laugh from her spot on the carpet. 

“Look.” 

Helena was sitting with Sonia, playing peek-a-boo and laughing every time Sonia dropped the blanket to smile at her. Her full belly laugh rang through the room and it was like music to Alex’s ears. Finally, Jo let out a breath, relaxing back into his arms, and he put his head on her shoulder. They watched their baby laugh for a moment as Jo squeezed his hands.

“She’s laughing,” Jo said with a smile.

“Yeah, she is. She’s happy there,” Alex said, smiling and tilting his head to kiss Jo’s cheek.

“I still need her back though,” Jo said, taking a step forward and pulling Alex with her.

“Okay then, let’s go get her.”

Jo ran forward into the daycare and Helena squealed and smiled as she started bouncing when she saw her mom. Jo leaned down to pick her up and planted a dozen kisses on her cheeks. Helena grabbed onto her hair and giggled as she looked at Jo. As mother and daughter were reunited, they seemed to stare into each other's eyes and have a silent conversation. Alex loved the bond that Jo and Helena had. They seemed to be completely mesmerized with the other at times as if it was just them alone, despite the crowded room around them.

Alex thanked Sonia, who said she did really well, and they enjoyed their time together. Jo only had eyes for Helena though, as Alex wrapped his arms around her as he led her towards the attending’s lounge. They settled down on the couch together and Helena was babbling as Jo talked to her in a back and forth conversation. Alex pulled out a couple of teether toys, and their conversation paused as Helena started chewing on one of the wings of a butterfly shaped toy. 

“It was good that she was in daycare today,” Jo finally said, looking over at him with a solemn nod. 

“Yeah?” Alex asked, looking at Jo, as he hugged her shoulders and he could tell she was still struggling.

“I just don't know if I'm ready to do this. From the moment she was conceived, we’ve never been apart for more than an hour,” Jo said, her voice breaking as she pulled Helena closer. “I don’t want her to think that I’ve left her. My mother left me. One day I cried and she picked me up, and the next, she put me down and she never picked me up again. She never wanted to touch me again.”

“You are not your birth mother, Jo,” Alex said, wrapping his arms around her. “You want to hold our baby. You will always pick Helena back up and you will always come back for her.”

“She doesn't know that!” Jo stressed, looking over at him.

“You’re right. She doesn't know that, at least not yet,” Alex said, remaining calm and using a slow and steady voice. “But she will learn to depend on her new caregivers and know that we will come back for her. We're not abandoning her Jo, she's just learning to trust us more and trust someone else too.”

Helena grabbed at Jo’s scrub top as she laid her head on Jo’s shoulder. Jo closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Helena, completely enveloping her. “Every time I set her down, I can still feel the weight of her on my chest. I ache for her and I know she aches for me too.” 

Alex nodded, he felt that ache too, and sometimes after Helena fell asleep, he’d just hold her, even if it was late at night. He just couldn’t take the feeling of the emptiness in his arms. At this point, he knew that there was nothing he could say or do that would make Jo feel better about leaving Helena at daycare. All he could do was give her time and if Jo decided that she needed more time, then he would support her. 

“But I did enjoy my surgery this afternoon. It felt so good to practice medicine and talk to other adults and not just spew medical jargon at my child while she drools and spits up on me,” Jo teased Helena and wiped away a spot of drool on her chin with her thumb.

“Well, then maybe we can work something out and do alternative shifts?” Alex said with a shrug. 

“But then we'd never see each other,” Jo whined, looking over at him with a frown.

“So, what do you want to do?” Alex asked, letting out a breath and trying to figure out a way that Jo could have the best of both worlds. Medicine and motherhood. Maybe he should ask Meredith, as she had a good work-life balance. 

Jo looked back at Helena, who looked up at her and smiled before burying her face, mouth first in Jo’s shoulder and chewing on her pink scrub top. “I can't leave her if she cries and I don't know if I'm ready to be away from her for a full twelve-hour shift, but I'm ready to go back to work. I miss work.” 

“So we'll talk to Bailey and Carina get you on a part-time shift and you can see her on all your breaks,” Alex said with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant and make this easy for her.

Jo nodded and took a deep breath before lifting Helena up and putting her in Alex’s arms. “I can't leave her if she cries. However, if you’re okay with dropping her off at the daycare and making sure she’s okay, then we should do that, and I'll be okay. Then after your shift’s over, we’ll meet you and then we can all go home together.”

“That sounds good and you could always bring her to see me on the Peds floor. I’d never turn down a visit from my girls,” Alex said, as Jo laid her head on his shoulder, and he held Helena as she reached for a toy. “It will get easier.” 

“I know,” Jo said with a sigh. “And I will always pick her back up again.”

“Yeah, you can pick her up until she's a teenager and she’s screaming at you to leave her alone,” Alex said with a laugh that Jo shared, and he was happy to see her smile and laugh with him.

“As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be,” Jo said, leaning down to kiss her head.

Alex smiled as he held his girls. They both giggled at Helena as she swung her toy around, almost taking off Alex’s nose. Jo had both of her hands on Helena’s waist, almost holding her.

“Do you want her back?”

“Yes,” Jo said, already taking her out of his arms.

Alex just laughed, he didn’t mind that Jo held her every waking hour because at night, it was his turn. He could hold her for as long as he wanted. Ever since she was a newborn, he would take on the majority of her night time care so Jo could get some extra rest. He would stay up and just hold her and sing to her, even after she fell asleep in his arms. 

Alex watched as Jo held Helena and talked to her, completely enchanted and in love with a little girl in her arms. Jo tried her hardest to do right by Helena and give her everything she needed and more. 

“She’ll be all right, Jo, because you are an excellent mom and you make me a better Dad. Helena has everything that we didn't as kids. She has a mom who wants to spend every minute with her and a dad who adores her. If she has to be in daycare for a few hours a day, she’s going to be fine. She will be a well adjusted, emotionally stable kid. She’s going to be okay because she has us looking out for her.”

“Yeah?” Jo asked, a little hesitant as she looked up at him.

“Yes,” Alex said for sure with a single nod.

Jo nodded and leaned in to kiss him. “You help me be a good Mom, thank you.”

“You’re the reason I’m a Dad at all and you help me be a good Dad too,” Alex said, leaning his forehead against her head. “We help each other, that's what we're supposed to do. We help each other so that we can help her.”

Jo laughed and pulled back. “Since when did you become so wise and all-knowing.”

“I'm a Dad now. I've got Dad wisdom,” Alex said, tilting his chin up.

“You've also got Dad jokes,” Jo said as she giggled and bounced Helena in her lap. “And they're not even good ones.”

“Excuse you,” Alex said, swatting her shoulder, but she just kept laughing.

Alex loved the sound of her laugh, even if it was at his expense and he pulled her in for a real kiss. He kissed her long enough that Helena started to squawk and demand their attention as she grabbed at their cheeks with chubby hands. They pulled back with another laugh and looked back at their little girl. Helena and Jo were going to be just fine, Alex would make sure of it.

[andromedasstarship]

faceless, nameless - chapter 2

photo credit - unknown 

pairing - kylo ren x reader

warnings - canon-typical star wars violence, torture, fighting, angst. 

summary - You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red.

blog rules

a/n - i dont claim any ownership over dialogue pulled directly from the films :) this chapt is like 3.5k so buckle up!!! 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here 

chapter 1 // next chapter 

-----

the stars

Present Day 

Starkiller Base. 

A few months ago, you had given everyone on base a lesson in First Order torture techniques. Personally, you thought it was a rather pointless activity, knowing full well that none of them would ever be even slightly capable of standing up against Ren. Poe blabbed on about ‘hope’ and ‘they need to be able to find comfort’ and other random ‘good guy’ optimism nonsense. At the end of your lesson you stressed that the best chance they had of keeping their mouth shut was to find a memory- a good one-, and latch onto it as tight as possible until the Order was finished with them. 

Poe was really glad he talked you into giving that lesson, seeing as your advice had helped him withstand the past few hours of near constant torture at the hands of the Order. Various troopers and officers had come and gone, all failing in their attempts to extract what he had done with the last piece of the map to Skywalker. 

Around hour three his body began to give out and all he could think about was how you certainly hadn’t been lying in your constant complaints about how cold Starkiller was. As he faded into unconsciousness, he silently prayed you weren’t having a full blown breakdown and that BB-8 had somehow managed to find you on Jakku. 

When he woke again, no clue how much time had passed, he was greeted with a deep modulated voice from the other end of the room. Ren. 

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” Ren stated, voice flat. “Comfortable? 

“Not really.” Poe responded, voice equally as flat. Behind his mask, Ren was staring quizzically down at him. Ren was more than used to the feelings of intense hatred that his prisoners projected towards him- if anything it was the expected response-, but there was something so different about the emotions Poe was projecting, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was so... personal. 

“I'm impressed, no one has been able to get out of you, what you did with the map.” 

It didn’t take a genius to know what was coming next. Not bothering to respond, Poe started to slip back away into his happy memory. In his mind, you were there, back turned to him but he could still hear you laughing as the two of you ran through the field by his childhood home 

He was forcibly removed from the memory when Ren reached outwards, slamming Poe back against the chair, with the Force. “I see.” Ren said darkly, twisting his hand ever so slightly, watching in enjoyment as Poe began to strain against the pressure building in his brain. 

Poe’s mind was panicked, trying in vain to hide the memory of you, but it was too late, as Ren had already caught the tail end of it. 

“Is it a girl that holds the last of the map Dameron?” Ren taunted, forcing his way deeper into Poe’s mind. 

Poe’s face was scrunched up in agony, desperate in his attempts to shield your identity from Ren. Ren mistook the admirable struggle as proof that it was this girl who held the key to the map, rather than Poe’s personal attempts at keeping you safe. Ren continued his mental assault, breaking down every mental wall Poe tried in vain to put up. 

A flash of your masked face. Ren was getting closer. 

Then there it was, you- unmasked, no disguise-, staring up at Poe in his memories. 

Poe in his panic started thinking of every single thing he could- what he ate for breakfast before he left, the color of his favorite shirt, the list of chores he had to do on base-, anything to try and divert Ren from you. 

It was like time stopped, the mental probe retreated only for an instance before Ren was back in Poe’s head with a new unrelenting force, pulling up Poe’s most recent and clear memory of you. 

“I don’t like the idea of this.” You said quietly.

“Have I ever let you down Princess?” Poe said with a grin. When that didn’t seem to amuse you, he put a hand on your cheek, angling your face up towards him. “Three days, I’ll see you on Jakku then. I promise.” 

And then the memory was gone. 

----

Jakku. 

It had been two years since Poe and blondie- you later learned his name was Leokai-, had stumbled upon you bleeding out in the sand. Adjusting to Resistance life had been difficult and for months you thought you’d never gain their trust. It wasn’t until you had accompanied Poe to a Resistance ‘recruitment’ meeting and noticed a First Order operative slinking around the crowded room. You had quite literally dragged Poe as far away from the building and off the planet in a matter of minutes, effectively saving him from giving a ‘we’re right here’ speech directly to the Order. After that, the general opinion about you among Resistance members turned positive. 

You still donned a disguise for their safety, lest their mind was ever blended up by Ren. It was incredibly simple, a well designed wig and different colored contacts. Natural enough that you’d never attract undue attention, but still enough that unless Ren had specific intel to look for this version of you, he’d never double check a fleeting memory that might include you; luckily no one had been unfortunate enough to test this theory. During any official Resistance business or battles you donned a plain white mask that wrapped securely around your face. 

When you first got the mask, you and Poe had had a field day with it, trying to figure out how much movement it could handle before falling off; Leia had actually caught the two of you trying to tie yourself to Poe’s X-Wing to see if that would finally get the thing to move. 

All in all, life with the Resistance was treating you pretty well. Except for right now, as you anxiously waited for Poe in a small nondescript ship on the outskirts of the Niima Outpost in Jakku. Poe, you had quickly learned, was one of the biggest idiots you had ever met. You weren’t exactly sure how he had talked you into splitting up for this mission. Splitting up was never a good idea, how had every horror HoloNet show not taught him that already? But Poe had made an undeniable point, the First Order- the Knights of Ren specifically-, were hot on his trail for the last piece of the map to Skywalker and you couldn’t risk being caught up in that fight. 

So, you agreed to split up. But Poe was late.  Late enough to warrant the uncontrollable worrying. Ever since ‘the incident’ you had developed a horrible case of ‘abandonment issues’; everyone reassured you it was a perfectly reasonable response, but you hated it, the complete lack of control over your own brain drove you nuts. You were pacing back and forth, doing your best to calm your nerves. Wherever Poe was, for his sake, you prayed he had a damn good reason for being late. Knowing that you were full of nerves,  Poe had even given himself a very wide arrival time so you wouldn’t worry. But here you were, worrying . 

Unable to wait around any longer, you decided to gear up and make your way to the outpost. If you were lucky, maybe someone had seen him or maybe you’d even find him yourself. You pulled your hair tight to the back of your head, clipping it in place, before sliding your mask on. As you headed out the doors of the ship you grabbed your staff, slinging it around your shoulder. A year ago, you managed to finally access funds that you had left behind on your home planet. Not only did it help purchase a lot of life saving supplies for the Resistance, it also meant you were able to buy and build a brand new staff for yourself. It wasn’t as advanced or sleek as the one you used in the Order, but it did the job just as well. 

The trek to the outpost would only take less than an hour, giving you adequate time to try and calm your nerves. You made a list as you walked, you made a lot of lists these days, having found it greatly helped in controlling your anxiety. 

Poe was just a bit lost, his sense of direction was never as good on the ground as it was in the air. 

Poe was being his charming self and chatted up someone a little too well and lost track of time. 

You still had your ship and if he wasn’t back by the end of the day you’d be going back to D’Qar and putting together an official search party. 

You struggled for a solid fourth item, but by then you were just reaching the outpost. It was loud and dirty and unlike anything you’d ever been to before. No one gave you a second glance, which you were grateful for. As you made your way through the many stalls you were growing more and more antsy, none of the people you saw being Poe. 

Nearly two hours had passed and you had thoroughly walked through the entirety of the outpost, not that there was much, at least ten times. Just as you were about to turn around and head back to the ship, a familiar shade of orange and beeping caught your attention. You almost fell to your knees in relief when you saw BB-8. Except he wasn’t with Poe, but rather a...scavenger girl? It was like BB-8 could feel your eyes on him, because he turned around to look at you and began beeping excitedly. The girl beside him turned to face you as well and without thinking you got a better grip on your staff and ran at her. 

The girl’s face morphed in confusion, but quickly put together what was happening and got her own staff into position, giving you one last look before she turned and started to run as well. Her hesitation and your own speed meant you easily caught up, swiping at her legs which sent her topping down. She hit the sand hard, not letting it stop her as she rolled to her back and instinctively pushed her staff upwards, expecting yours to come down. 

What she definitely didn’t expect was the electrical end of your staff, on and buzzing, pointed straight at her face. 

“You stole this droid.” You hissed. 

Before she had time to respond, BB-8 was rolling up to the two of you, beeping like hell. It was a funny mix of ‘I’m so excited to see you’ and ‘please don’t hurt this girl’ and ‘I’ve got so many stories to tell you’ and ‘I promise this girl did not steal me’ and other random beeps. He was talking so fast and your head was still clouded with adrenaline, so it took you longer to process what BB just said. As soon as you realized the girl hadn’t just not stolen him, but rather saved him, you turned the electrical current off and pulled your staff away from her face. 

You stuck your hand out, glad she was unable to see the look of pure embarrassment on your face. “I um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have chased you like that, I just saw BB and…,” you trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself. 

Luckily, the girl grasped your hand and lifted herself off the ground. “I would’ve done the same, I think.” She replied, giving you a tentative smile. 

You still had so many questions unanswered, but before you could say anything BB-8 started beeping like crazy again; saying something about how he could see a man up ahead-staring at the three of you-, that was wearing his master’s, Poe’s, jacket. 

Not bothering to apply any of the lessons you had just learned from storming the girl, you switched the electrical end of your staff back on. A quick look at the girl told you she had the same idea, both of you getting better grips on your staffs. Both of you took off in a sprint towards the man and you  almost  felt bad for him- you were clearly taking him by surprise, the way his eyes widened like saucers-, but he was wearing Poe’s jacket. 

His attempt at escaping was short-lived. The girl swung out in front of him, shoving him to the ground- quite similar to what you just did to her-, and you quickly took up the rear, positioning the electrical end right at his throat.  

Everyone was breathing heavily, no one had expected to do so much running today. You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red. You pressed the tip of your staff to his chest, not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to send a shock through his body. 

“I’m only going to ask once,” you started, glaring up at him from behind the mask, “where, did you, get that jacket?” Punctuating each pause with the lightest of electrical taps. 

“Ow! Ow! Quit that! I’ve had a pretty messed up day, alright? I’d appreciate it if you stopped accusing me-” 

“Liar!” You yelled, putting the end back in his face. “You stole it from his master,” you said, tilting your head towards BB-8 who was beeping in agreement, “I’ll give you one more chance to answer honestly.” 

FN-2187 raised his hands up in surrender. You studied his face for a moment, searching for any signs of deception; there weren't any, but that explained nothing. “I swear! I swear, his name is Poe. That’s right? Poe Dameron.” 

At the sound of Poe’s name your shoulders relaxed a little bit, but the relaxation was short lived as you FN-2187 continued. 

“He was captured by the First Order.” 

No. 

“I helped him escape okay, but we crashed a little further out,” FN-2187 was silent for a moment, “Poe didn’t make it.” 

No No No No No No No No No. 

“You’re…, you’re lying.” You said angrily, unable to accept that as truth. When all FN-2187 did was give you a look full of  pity, you hit the switch on your staff, pulling it back to your body. “You’re lying…” You repeated, much weaker this time, glad that they were unable to see the tears forming behind the mask. 

“I’m sorry. I really am.” FN-2187 said quietly, in a voice that was just the right amount of sincere to be true. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw BB-8 start to roll away, you couldn’t let him get lost now. “If you even, think, about running away while I go get the droid, you won’t live to see another day.” You threatened, quickly turning on your heel to go catch up with BB. 

In your absence, the girl and FN-2187 were both still quite winded. At least you had gone into the outpost knowing there was potential for action, the two of them were completely caught off guard. 

“Are you with the Resistance too then?” The girl asked. 

A fleeting look of confusion appeared on FN-2187’s face before he jumped up and nodded. “Yes, yes I am. I am part of the Resistance. A Resistance member.” 

“I’ve never met a real Resistance member before. And now in one day, I’ve met two.” The girl replied, with a gentle smile on her face. 

By the time you managed to get BB and ‘drag’ him back to where the other two were standing, they had finished their conversation. FN-2187 tensed up when you reappeared, something you were okay with, not wanting him to feel too comfortable around you. 

No one had time to say anything before the sound of blaster fire diverted all of your attentions. A quick look up at the sky confirmed your one of your worst fears, the First Order was here. FN-2187 grabbed both of your hands and started pulling.

“Don’t grab my hand!” You and the girl both shouted out, but running alongside him anyway. The three of you weaved your way out of the Outpost, doing your best to avoid the unrelenting fire of bullets and bomber shots the Order was raining down on you. 

“They’re gunning for me!” FN-2187 screamed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“They’re gunning for all of us, especially the droid. Now keep up!” You yelled back. It didn’t take much mental strain to understand that if Poe had really been captured and had really crashed on Jakku after escaping, that the Order would’ve followed him here. Your feet pounded the sand, pushing yourself ahead of FN. 

“We can’t outrun them!” FN-2187 called out from behind you. 

The girl was ahead of you and she pointed out towards a quad jumper. “We might! In that quad jumper.” All of you running towards it as fast as you could. 

Of course, as soon as the words left her lips, the TIE fighter tailing you blew the thing to smithereens. All three of you seemed to pause for a moment before the girl started running towards a hunk of,- oh my god was that the Millenium Falcon-  junk to her left. 

“Hey! We still need a pilot!” FN-2187 screamed, still running a few paces behind you. 

“I can pilot anything!” You yelled out, not bothering to look at him over your shoulder. The three of you, plus BB, raced up the walkway of the ship, slamming the door shut behind you. 

“Gunning position is down there.” Rey said hurriedly, pointing at a set of stairs. She didn’t look back as she rushed ahead to the pilots seat. 

Just as FN-2187 got ready to mount the stairs you grabbed him by the back of Poe’s jacket and yanked him around to face you. 

“Not the time-”

“If you do anything down there to make me believe you’re still working for them, FN-2187, I won’t hesitate to come down here and gouge your eyeballs out myself.” You spat, relishing in the way his eyes widened at the use of his official call number. You didn’t give him the chance to reply, just let go of his jacket and made your way to the front of the ship to co-pilot. 

The girl was already pulling the ship into the air by the time you made it up there. You wasted no time, quickly throwing yourself into the chair beside her. Both of you fumbled to pull on headsets as you worked the controls. “Stay low.” You ordered. 

She gave you a confused look. “What?” 

“Stay low,” you said more urgently, “it confuses their tracking.” 

The girl went low and you were glad you were strapped in. You didn’t expect the smoothest of rides, but it was certainly  jerky . 

The constant sound and feel of blaster shots hitting the exterior of the ship were making it difficult to focus. “What are you doing down there!” You screamed into the headset. “Shoot back!” 

“I’m trying,” FN screamed back up, “are the shields up?” 

You blindly reached over and smacked a button. “Yes! Now shoot !” You yelled. 

Where FN-2187 was lacking, the girl was making up for it tenfold with her piloting ability; this girl was good. Internally, you knew you were being unreasonably hard on him; it wasn’t so far fetched to believe that someone would defect from the Order, hell you defected- even if it wasn’t necessarily your choice-, and your position and relationship to the Order had been much more intimate and substantial than a ‘trooper. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head, you focused on helping the girl pilot the ship. The two of you working in unison to attempt to shake the TIE’s trailing you.

“Hold on!” She shouted and in the background you could hear FN asking what for. The girl pulled on the steering hard and you went veering to the right before she rolled the ship around, giving FN the perfect shot at the last TIE. You internally promised yourself, that if he missed this fighter you’d be fulfilling your eye gouging promise. Luckily for all of you, but especially FN-2187, he blew the TIE fighter right out of the sky. 

“Wooo!” In the rush of the moment, you weren’t exactly sure who was whooping and hollering, it might as well have been all of you. 

Once you felt the ship was out of imminent danger and safely gliding through space, you relaxed back into your seat. Looking over at the girl you smiled, even though she couldn't see it, you hoped she was able to read the emotion from your eyes. You think she could, by the way she smiled real big back at you. 

She stuck her hand out and said, “My name is Rey. The guy downstairs said he’s Finn and he’s with the Resistance too.” 

-----

a/n - im having so much fun with this yall dont even know. likes/replies/reblogs always appreciated and if youd like to be tagged just ask! 

taglist: @egguuuu​ @sunflowersandotherthings​ @clarizuliani10​ @kylorendrip​

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own star wars or any of the character involved in it. 

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 8

Summary: The Celebrity Project has ended, however there is still a little event, where the contestants comment on favorite moments selected by fans. However, there is one big revelation.

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: Just messing with the otp, that’s all

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Three days pass. Henry and I are still in the cottage, but there are no cameras around us. I think I am and will be forever grateful that they are gone now. We can finally breath and act like a normal couple. Thanks to the Celebrity Project, I met Henry and I’m thankful that I did, but those camera’s are a pain in the ass and will never be missed.

Jennifer Lopez and Charlie Puth showed everyone that they were a whole lot better than the rest of us. Henry and I came in second, but we are fan favorites and to be honest: I think that is the best prize I could’ve ever won. Tonight there is a special live event with the other duos and after that, it’s officially over.

I can’t wait for that.

I keep trying to make some lunch for Henry and me, but ever since the camera’s are gone, Henry has turned into a piece of velcro. He distracts me with kisses on my temple, wraps his strong arms around my waist as he stands behind me. ‘Stop tickling me,’ I chuckle, as he pushes up my shirt, so he can touch my bare skin.

‘I’m not tickling you,’ he retorts with a chuckle. ‘I’m hugging you.’

‘You are tickling me,’ I laugh. ‘Come on, Henry, pasta will be ruined.’

He simply shrugs. ‘I don’t care.’

‘You are awfully clingy,’ I note. ‘What is up with you?’

Henry reaches over to turn off the gas and turns me around, to hide his face in my neck, kissing me there. ‘Just obsessed with you.’ He bites his lip when he looks at me again. ‘You look beautiful, Addy. Every time I look at you, you are even more beautiful than you were the last time I saw you.’

This should not make me blush, but obviously it does anyways. Everything he says and does to me, I turn into a giggling and blushing mess. ‘Shut up,’ I whisper.

‘No, never.’ He hoists me up in his arms with a satisfied grin on his face and carries me as if I’m nothing to the couch.

I sit on his lap and whisper: ‘What are you doing, Henry?’

He takes a deep breath, as he frowns a bit. ‘Am I going too fast?’ he then asks. ‘I can stop if you want me to, Addy.’

‘No, no,’ I say. ‘I like this, I really do, but it’s real now. I haven’t done this when it’s real.’ I simply shrug and add: ‘And now you stare at me and I figure there is so much going on inside your head and I have no idea what.’

His hands rest on my hips, his eyes locked with mine and a small smile toys on his face. ‘You want to know what is going on inside my head?’

‘Yes.’

‘I keep thinking about how I’m so lucky. I didn’t even want to participate,’ he admits. ‘But I met you here and fell in love so quickly. I have never fallen in love with anyone this fast. I keep asking myself what I did to deserve you. You deserve so much better than this. Better than me.’

I shake my head. ‘Don’t cut yourself short like that, Henry. If there is someone who doesn’t deserve this, it’s me. And don’t you dare to tell me otherwise.’

But Henry wouldn’t be Henry, because he already opens his mouth, daring to tell me otherwise. I lean in, to shut him up with a kiss. While he lets it happen and I fully surrender myself to his lips, his words keep running through my mind. He is falling in love with me. I’m falling in love with him.

When I let go, I let out a shaky breath. So much is running through my mind. Love, fear, lust.

‘Come here,’ he whispers, pulling me close to his chest as I melt against his frame. ‘You are tense. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ However, I just come to a realization. ‘Oh my.’

‘What is it?’

‘Are you my boyfriend?’

Henry starts to laugh, letting his head fall back.

‘Why are you laughing at me?’ I ask him, slapping him across his chest. ‘Forget I asked.’ I already want to step off his lap, however he is faster and stronger. He pulls me flush against his chest. ‘Let me go,’ I laugh.

‘I wasn’t laughing at you, Addy. I was laughing because you are adorable. If you want me to be your boyfriend, I’d be honored.’

Good thing I was already blushing. ‘You want me as your girlfriend?’ I ask him.

‘I’d love that.’ He places his hands on both sides of my face and runs his thumbs over my lips. ‘You are beautiful and my girlfriend.’ He sounds so giddy and my heart misses a few beats. ‘My girlfriend Adelaide Park.’

◎ ◎ ◎

Henry has wrapped his thick arm around my shoulders as we sit outside our cottage in front of some large screens. We are catching up with the other couples and Jennifer mentions something about not being able to wait until she can sleep in her own bed again and not hearing Charlie snore again.

‘And from the looks of it,’ Justin says to me, ‘You two will be sharing a bed more often.’

‘Don’t say stuff like that,’ I chuckle, as I am nearly puking with embarrassment.

Justin starts to chuckle. ‘So, what did you two do these days without camera’s?’

His wife Hailey slaps his stomach. ‘Don’t tease her like that. Look at her cheeks.’ She turns to Henry and says: ‘Come on, mister Witcher, protect your girl.’

Henry only clears his throat and Justin quickly tells us that he won’t do it anymore. The energy Henry Cavill possesses.

I now know for a fact that I should never ever let him go.

Jennifer quickly gives a short speech, telling us how great it was to get to know us, to be part of this first ever season of the program and how much she would love it, if we would do a reunion after a few months.

We watch some fan reactions of the last episode and much to my dismay, we have to rewatch our kiss a billion times. It’s embarrassing to watch the first time, but it’s not getting any easier the fourth or eight time.

‘Look at this response on Twitter,’ Jennifer laughs. ‘“They are so cute, it makes me wanna hurl”. You two are disgustingly cute, that’s a truth.’

The night continues and I hum in content when I know it’s almost over. We watch footage of us when we first arrived here, the only ones not being awkward, were Justin and Hailey obviously.

‘But, what was Henry like before he started here?’ the voiceover of a man sounds through the boxes. He tenses up beside me and I look at him, before I return my eyes back to the screen again.

Henry is in an office I don’t recognize, with men I don’t know. ‘I have to work with her?’ I hear Henry ask, as he is looking at my headshot. ‘This is so unfair. Have you any idea how unfair this is? I’m supposed to win this thing. How am I gonna win this, if I have to work with her?’

I swallow hard, as I stare at the screen and sit up straight. I shrug off his arm from my shoulders. Is this real?

‘We never said it would be easy, Henry,’ I hear someone else say. ‘But work with Adelaide, make sure you two can win this thing and please, don’t make it too obvious what your intentions are.’

I feel tears in my eyes. Intentions…

‘Fine, but when I win, James Bond is mine?’ Henry asks.

‘Addy, listen to me,’ Henry whispers, but I don’t. I listen to what is happening on the screen. I recognize this, when the screen switches to outside. This was the day we went shopping, the day where we snuck in kisses.

‘You’re losing, Henry. You what that means, right? You’re not getting James Bond,’ a different male voice says.

‘We’re not too far behind,’ Henry answers. ‘I’ll get her to man up, so we can win this.’

I think I would’ve preferred if Henry just punched my nose back into my face. I’ll get her to man up? Did he seriously just say that.

‘And, I never knew you were such a good actor. I almost believed you actually care about her.’

On screen Henry sighs. ‘Maybe after this, I’ll get even more jobs.’

The air has turned cold as ice. Everyone is quiet and I stare at the blacked out screen. The only thing I hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears. My eye twitches as my jaw clenches. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from him.

Henry carefully places a hand on my back, but I stand up and walk inside. Thankfully we were at our cottage, since it has the best lighting, so I’m back there in a few seconds. I slam the door shut behind me and rush to the living room.

I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known. This was obviously too good to be true. How could I be such an idiot?  Finally, fucking finally I have cleared my reputation of being so stupid and ditzy and now this happens. The whole world knows I simply fell for Henry Cavill, because I was easy.

I’m such a dumb cow.

‘Addy, let me explain,’ Henry says, who walks into our bedroom. No wait, not our bedroom. The bedroom. A bedroom.

I grab my suitcase before I place it on the bed. ‘What is there to explain?’ I ask him, as I start folding my clothes. ’It was pretty fucking obvious to me. You only par- parti- par-ti-ci-pa-ted to get that stupid James Bond part. You don’t like me, despite what you said to me. You just used me to get the job and more job offers.’ I push passed him, to grab my stuff from the bathroom.

At that exact moment a cameraman barges in, not wanting to let this moment go to waste, but somehow I don’t seem to care. I don’t even want to care. I’m just too mad at him right now to give a damn.

‘I didn’t use you,’ Henry says.

I open the door a lot harder than I’m supposed to, letting it smash against the wall, as my eyes fill with tears, all because of his wrong doing. ‘Enlighten me, Henry, what did you do then? Because judging from what you and I just watched and the rest of the world just watched, it made it seem like you were using me to get what you wanted.’

He sighs. ‘I meant what I said to you. I like you and I am falling in love with you.’

‘Hurray,’ I deadpan. I put everything in my suitcase and close it.

Henry swallows hard. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m going to the airport, so I can buy myself a ticket home, to visit my parents. You know, I know for a fact that they care about me for who I am and they would never ever use me the way you used me.’ I stare at my suitcase for a while and seeing my passport on top of it, makes a sob leave my eyes. I hide my face in both of my hands, as my shoulders shake when I cry.

‘No, Addy, please,’ he says, placing his hand on my shoulder, but I slap him away.

‘Stay away from me,’ I spit out, ‘and don’t you dare call me Addy anymore. Let… Le… Let me…’ Why can’t I find the right words to say now? ‘I’m going to tell you a few things and you cannot interrupt me.’

‘Okay,’ he simply says.

‘You stay as far from me as possible. I would like you to never ever mention me in an in… interview again. I don’t want you in my life anymore, neither do I want to be part of yours. You bet… betra…’ I take a deep breath as I try to get the word out of my mouth correctly. ‘You be-tray-ed me, Henry. You used me and I genuinely thought you cared about me. You know how hard it is for me to open up and… Never mind, I just hate the way you make me feel right now.’

‘There isn’t anything I can do to make it up to you?’ he asks. ‘Because I want to make this up to you. There must be something.’

I shake my head. ‘This isn’t something you can fix. What you told whoever those men were and what you told me… Those things aren’t the same. It’s either one or the other. And yes, you can change your mind, but the least you could’ve done, is told me about it. If you meant what you said to me, you would’ve had the decency to be honest with me. You should’ve told me your second agenda before you told me you fell in love with me, before you kissed me.’

Henry blinks a few times. ‘Adelaide, this can’t be the end.’

‘It’s the end,’ I say with more certainty than I have ever heard myself speak with. I simply grab my suitcases and walk out of the room.

Tears run over my cheeks as I brush passed the others, who want to know if I’m okay, but I’m not. I’m not okay and I know I won’t be for awhile. I need to go to see my dad, to hug my mom. I don’t want to be in Italy anymore, I need to go home and be with them.

I already spot a taxi at the stand, but before I can approach him, I hear a: ‘Adelaide, please wait a second.’

I stop walking and I hear two pair of footsteps. Those stupid camera people, I’m not going to miss them.

‘Don’t I get to say something to you?’ he asks, as he stands in front of me.

‘You said enough behind my back already,’ I tell him. ‘Get out of the way. Don’t make this harder than it already is.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry won’t cut it,’ I tell him, a lot harsher than I did before.

Henry rubs his face, before gently holding my hand. I know I shouldn’t let him do this, but I just want to feel his touch one more time, because I know this is going to be the last time I’ll ever feel it.

‘Henry, please, let me go.’

‘I am willing to do anything in the world to make it up to you, Adelaide Park. You are one of a kind. You are the one that I want to get to know even better.’

‘Don’t,’ I say. ‘Just don’t. Don’t contact me ever again, don’t audition for the part as my love interest and please if you ever see me before I see you, walk away. I can’t have you in my life.’

‘No, please,’ Henry says, holding my hand up to his chest, placing his other on top of his own. ‘I can’t lose you, Adelaide. What I said to my agent, before we met… It was true. I only participated because I wanted James Bond, but what I told you is true as well. I don’t want James Bond anymore. I just want you.’

‘Let me go,’ I say, not looking at him. ‘Please, Henry, now.’

‘Adelaide,’ he whispers.

‘Right now.’

He lets go of my hand and sighs deeply. ‘Is this the end?’ he asks. ‘Please, this can’t be the end.’

My sniffle is his answer and it’s all I can give him. ‘Goodbye, Henry.’

[everybodyscupoftea]

chemistry

isaac lahey x reader

isaac needs help in chemistry and you need help in english - the beginning

this is for isaac anon and the few people that wanted this. i’m just dabbling here, so let me know if you guys want more! (i did quite a bit of Research for this and i have ideas)

also let me know, i left it vague, but if i expand i’m probably going to add in scott, stiles, allison, and lydia. would you guys like to keep it supernatural or do full au where they’re just normal college students?

You noticed the boy in your Intro to Academic Writing course, but you didn’t really focus on him, mostly due to freshman year stress, until he sat down next to you in General Chemistry. Stepping into the classroom you’d felt at ease, science was your jam, but the really cute boy put you back on edge. You felt hyperaware of him, his scent, kind of cinnamon-y, fall-esque.

He tapped his fingers on his notebook, and you couldn’t help but notice he wrote in green pen. You glanced every so often to see him doodling in the corner of the page instead of taking notes on the intro lesson on the scientific method that your professor was doing.

The boy rested his chin on his hand and his fingers went from tapping on the notebook to his jaw and you shook your head, trying to focus back on the professor who was talking about your lab groups.

“The people at your table are in your group. Lab is on Wednesday nights, I won’t be the instructor, you’ll have a TA, but you can email me or come to my office hours if you have any questions about what’s going on. I’ll see you all on Thursday.”

You started to pack your stuff and the boy turned to you with a crooked grin, “I’m Isaac.”

Shaking his hand, you introduced yourself and he stood, waiting for you to finish packing your stuff. You zipped your booksack, “You’re in my English class, right?” you asked, faking as if you didn’t notice him as soon as you stepped into the door.

He nodded, “Yeah, with Dr. Terranova.”

“He seems,” you trailed off, looking for the right word, “interesting.”

Isaac grinned, “You mean overwhelmingly picky for an English 101 professor?”

“That’s a great way to put it,” you told him, laughing.

The two of you walked out the door and down the hall together. Isaac shifted his booksack on his shoulders a little and asked, “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Calculus,” you told him and he grimaced.

“Fuck that.”

“You?”

He nodded, “Spanish.”

Unfortunately for you, the buildings were on opposite ends of campus, so you paused just outside the door to the chemistry building. Isaac paused too and smiled, “See you tomorrow night?”

“See you tomorrow, Isaac.”

-

Your lab group was made up of two boys and two girls. Isaac, Andrew, Abigail, and you. Out of the group, you were the only STEM major, and the only one who actually liked chemistry. Isaac patted your shoulder, “Well, that officially makes you team captain then.”

“Thank god,” Abigail added, “I’m an advertising major, my brain noped out of the sciences years ago.”

The other guy, Andrew, said, “I took Chem 2 in high school and didn’t pass the AP exam, chemistry and I have beef.”

You snorted and said, “Cool, well, I’ll try and lead us to the promised land.” They seemed to like that.

-

Your group was really smart, everyone was picking up the labs really easily and you were thrilled, especially when the teacher stood in front of the class after the first test review. She clapped her hands once, “Okay, the lab group with the highest combined test average gets five bonus points added to their test scores. This is me trying to get you guys familiar with study groups, especially if you’re going to be in STEM, which I know some of you are. Study groups got me through school.”

Unfortunately, everyone in your lab group already had stuff going on, so you couldn’t study with them. Fortunately, the test was on intro stuff like the scientific method, conversions, and balancing equations, and your group hadn’t had any issues in any of the lab work, so you weren’t worried.

But when you got the test back, you realized, maybe you should’ve been. Isaac got his handed back first and actually laughed when he looked at the grade. Before you could ask, the professor set yours down on the desk and you started flipping through it, frowning at the little points you’d had taken off for careless mistakes.

“Fuck,” you muttered, “should’ve gotten at least a 97.”

“Wow, can’t believe you fucked it up for the whole group,” Isaac sarcastically responded, nudging you with his elbow, before sliding his test on top of yours. He nudged you again, “As you can see, I’m carrying the team,” and he motioned toward the D written in bright red at the top of his paper.

Your mouth dropped open and you picked the test up, flipping through to see what he’d missed. Eyebrows furrowed, you looked over at him, “You should tell her you accidentally skipped the back page.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an accident, I just didn’t know how to do it.”

“Well,” you stuttered, “it was the same stuff we did in the last lab activity.”

Isaac nodded, “Yes it is, and I didn’t understand it then either.”

“I thought,” you paused, mind racing, “I thought we all did?”

He grinned at you, “Some of us aren’t science brains, my friend.”

“What are you?” you asked as the class started to pack up.

With a soft smile, he threw his booksack over his shoulder, “I’m a literature major.”

-

You didn’t mean to think about it as much as you did, but when 2 a.m. rolled around and you were at your most impulsive you couldn’t stop yourself from sending out a text.

Hey, do you maybe want to meet up and study sometime?

After hitting send you could’ve slammed your head into a wall. You locked your phone and put your head in your hands, “God damnit.” And then your phone dinged.

I’d love that, love to have a STEM genius in my corner.

Your cheeks heated as you read it and your mind raced with your heart. It was beating harder and part of you couldn’t even believe he’d said yes. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you responded.

Idk about genius but I’m not half bad at chem

He responded, even faster than the first time and you grinned, unable to stop it from overtaking your face.

I may not know much about the scientific method or whatever, but all evidence suggests otherwise, genius

-

The next test wasn’t for a few weeks, but Isaac wanted to start studying earlier. He suggested meeting at a coffee shop called The Beanery. Coffee shops weren’t really your jam, you liked the silence of the fourth floor of the library. Go early, get a table, put in head phones, and go to work. But, you were open to try Isaac’s suggestion.

It was brightly lit when you walked in, and he was already there, at a table in the corner, laptop out. Books were spread across the tabletop, and he already had two empty mugs on the table in front of him, leg bouncing as he aimlessly chewed on a pen.

Shaking yourself out of staring, you walked to the counter to order. Isaac smiled up at you when you made it to the table with your coffee.

“Welcome,” he told you, moving some of his books out of the way. Sitting up straighter, Isaac glanced around, “What do you think about this place?”

“It’s nice, definitely a change of pace from my norm.”

“Where’s that then?”

“Library, fourth floor.”

“Quiet up there, huh?”

“Yeah, but I listen to some music for background.”

“I like coffee shops,” Isaac said, closing his laptop, “the vibes are nice and my clothes always smell like coffee afterward which is a fun bonus.”

At his comment, you looked down at his clothes. You were a little surprised to see that he was dressed just like during the week: jeans, a nicer t-shirt, and a cardigan. You’d wondered, deep down, if he dressed nicer for class, but it didn’t seem the case. Isaac cleared his throat and your eyes snapped to his face, ears burning when you saw him staring at you in amusement.

Coughing quietly, you reached for your booksack, “So, chemistry. Do you understand what we’ve been going over?”

“I know they’re called Bohr models but I don’t know anything else about them.”

“Right, so,” you paused a minute, trying to figure out where to start, “it’s a way to draw an atom and it’s kind of like a planet.”

Isaac leaned forward through your explanation, resting most of his weight on his elbows, and tapped the green pen against his lower lip. Every so often he’d ask a question, shift a little and write something down in his notebook by whatever he’d scribbled in class. His questions were shockingly insightful, and you eagerly answered them all.

By the time you’d gotten through the basics of thermodynamics, he’d added a whole page of notes, and you could tell he was starting to lose interest. Shutting your notebook, you told him, earnestly, “I hope this helped a little.”

“I promise,” he looked you straight in the eye, “it makes sense. This all looked like a foreign language before we met up.”

“Good,” you nodded, “this is my jam.”

“Keep on spreading it,” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well,” you admitted, “you may not be good at chem but you’d kick my ass into next week in English.”

“How’s your paper going?” Isaac asked, leaning back and crossing his arms, looking genuinely interested.

“It’s…going.”

He snorted, “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“Yeah neither does my thesis.”

“Do you have your laptop?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me have a look,” he suggested.

Pulling up the word doc, you passed your laptop over, staring down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs, a little nervously, as he read through your rough draft.

“What did Dr. Terranova have to say in your conference?” he asked, pushing your laptop away.

You sighed, “He was less than complimentary.”

Isaac laughed, “It’s not that bad, but it could use some polishing. I can help of course.”

Relief washed over you and you felt a weight off your shoulders, “That would be incredible actually.”

“There, now we’re even. You tutor me in chemistry and I’ll make sure you pass English, starting with this rough, and emphasis on rough, draft.”

Reaching across the table, you shoved at his hand, “Be gentle.”

“I’m going to get another chai,” he said, standing to stretch a bit, “and you pick out what sentence exactly you think is your thesis. We’ll start there.”

Biting your lip to conceal a grin, you nodded, waking your laptop back up.