#fucking PRAYING that she’ll last me through Friday. please please please

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

My life is falling apart almost as fast as my car

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Idiot | Tony Stark

Hey lovelies— I wrote some flangst even though I have a billion other things that needed to be written. I really woke up and said “comfort character? I think you mean: Tony Stark” and then wrote a fic with no plot. It’s just sappy and sad and cuddly and kinda’ elusive as to the relationship. Might expand on this or might let it sit in the void like I am :) Enjoy

Description: Literally like zero plot, this was literally written today this morning because I am a heartbroken mess and I fucking hate real life men right now and I hate the military and I hate guys who tell you that you’re special when they don’t fucking mean it and I really need a Best Friend/Maybe More!Tony Stark cuddle

Pairing: Best Friend / Maybe More!Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Warnings: Like nothing, kinda angsty

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: Fluff, Angst, breakups LOL

She wakes up screaming again. This is the ninth night in a row and she’s starting to think that the others are going to request to soundproof her room. She wouldn’t blame them. She would almost prefer they do that because at least then she won’t have to stop screaming when she wakes up. She can just keep going and finally run out of voice and then maybe— maybe— she won’t be able to say his name anymore.

She flips over, her hair plastered to the back of her neck, her stomach tossing like she’s on a roller coaster. She can’t tell if she wants to cry or throw up— she wants to scream at both choices. She wants to rip her hair out too but then she would be sad and bald and she can only do one of those things right now. She’s not deep enough in the spiral to chop it off yet— that’s a day twelve activity.

She settles on crying— like she even has a choice— and soon her room is filled with the sound of her heaving against a pillow that still smells too much like him. She tosses it— she whips it across the damn room and doesn’t flinch when she hears something shatter. It was nothing important, she knows that for a fact. She hopes it’s the picture of them.

She pulls her knees up, tucking them under her torso, praying the pressure will alleviate the bubbling in her stomach. It won’t— she’s only fooling herself. He’s not a cramp— it’s not food poisoning; it’s rage. It’s brain melting sadness. It’s every ‘Good morning beautiful’ and ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love—

No. Nope— not that one. She can’t think about that one. If she does then she might never stop— she might take a match to everything in this room, every piece of clothing in her closet, every mug in the kitchen that he ever touched. Where would she be then— stuff-less, clothes-less, and with every Avenger looking for a coffee mug pissed at her?

Yeah no— better to just not think about it. Better to just scream.

She squeezes her eyes closed— not like it matters, the room is pitch black anyway— and slams her fist against the mattress, letting the sting that rips up her arm ring louder than his name in her head. It only works for a moment before it’s back— louder and angrier than ever. Louder and angrier than her. His name in her head is a separate entity, haunting her skull like it’s a dilapidated mansion, trying to evict her from the endless halls of her own mind.

She bunches the blanket up, shoving it against her mouth and praying that it muffles the crazed roar that sheds from her lungs— like an animal being ripped apart, she can’t tell if she’s screaming for help or for something so much worse.

There’s a knock on the door and she freezes, her blood running ice cold. A few seconds tick by, her limbs and jaw glued into a tight position, tongue heavy and aching in her mouth. Her heart pounds hard in her chest— the entity knocking back to whoever’s at the door— there’s just no way.

“Would you open the door if I told you there are macaroons in my hand?” A collected, slightly sarcastic, familiar voice breaks through the wood barrier of her door.

Her shoulders drop, her throat closing slightly— it’s just Tony.

“I— erm—” she jumps off her bed quickly, stumbling in the dark until she finds the lamp on her desk, turning it on the the sight of her blasphemous pillow and the shattered remains of a purple mug— damn she overshot the pillow by an inch— “gimme’ a minute, ‘k?”

“You get five seconds — these walls are thick but Friday alerted me to the— and I quote— distressed wailing.”

Oh god of course she did— how could she forget about the damn AI? She presses her palms against her eyes, wicking away as much moisture as possible. She’s so tired— her bones feel like cement, her neck barely keeping her head screwed on let alone straight. She’s a mess and all she can do is chuck her pillow back on her bed and ignore the purple shards peeking out from behind her dresser. One thing at a time.

She pushes her lead bones to the door, trying not to wince as the light pours into her dim room. She blinks a few times, her eyelashes sticky and cheeks stiff, taking in the man in grey sweatpants and a worn MIT hoodie in front of her. She glances down and sure enough he has a mug of pistachio macaroons. A mug. How ironic.

She flicks her gaze to his face, blinking back another wave of tears when she sees the concern mingling with his coffee eyes. “Hey doll.”

She swallows, trying to clear her stinging throat. It doesn’t work, her voice still sounds like she’s been chain smoking since the ripe age of five years old. “Hey Tony.”

He raises a dark brow, eyes drawing down her front, and she shifts on her feet, wishing the hallway light would flicker out. She just knows her eyes are puffy and her hair a mess. Her t-shirt is definitely crumpled, hiding what she can only hope is shorts and not just a pair of panties, and she only has one sock on— she can feel it now, the hardwood like ice against her toes. Her face flushes with heat, fingers clasping awkwardly in front of her— she may as well have a sign flashing above her head. Heartbroken idiot.

For a moment they just stand there, eyes locked, daring the other to move or speak or do anything at all first. Finally Tony sighs, holding his arms out, shaking his head. “Are you waiting for an invitation? Get your butt over her— now.”

That’s all it takes for her to practically jump into his arms, throwing her weight against the man like a drowning woman would a life preserver. That’s kind of what he is. Her best friend— her life line. Any other time she would have been the one knocking on his door— kicking his door down is more like it— but he told her— he told her that he was no good and she didn’t listen. She wraps her arms around his neck, biting her lip hard enough to keep the tears from dripping down her face again. She missed him— she’s been missing him for months.

“He’s an idiot, doll.” Tony mumbles against her hair, arms circling her back and pressing her to him so tight that it feels like he’s trying to fuse their bodies together.

He smells like motor oil and coffee and her chest shakes from the contrast of the fire in her veins and the cool relief of finally going home. It feels like longer than months— it feels like years. She’s been walking on eggshells around him since she introduced her— now ex— boyfriend. They don’t fight— at least, they didn’t before. They’ve never had a reason to.

Not until him.

Warmth seeps from him, curling around her limbs. She presses her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent ingrained in his hoodie. He’s been wearing it for a few days, she can tell. If things were normal she would be tugging at the pocket, slipping her hands in and tangling them with his, tracing his knuckles with her thumbs. She’ll settle for this though— she’ll take anything.

“I’m the idiot.” She mutters dejectedly, fingers tugging on his hood, trying desperately to distract herself from how much she wants to scream again. “I thought, Tony— I— god I’m so stupid.”

Tony stiffens, chest like marble and pressing against hers so hard she can feel his heart beating against her practically bare skin— deadly calm but beginning to pick up.

“Don’t you dare.” His voice is gravelly, grinding his words against her ear.

His hold on her loosens and she panics, her own heartbeat spiking rapidly in her chest— what is he doing? Is he leaving? No, no, no he can’t leave! She locks her arms around his shoulders as he bends down, shaking her head, the tears finally spilling over her cheeks, hot and angry and desperate. “No please— don’t go I’m sorry— I’m— please don’t leave me.”

She’s incoherent, not even sure that the words coming out of her mouth make any sense at all but she has to at least try. He can’t leave— not now. She can take a broken heart, she can take one stupid man, she can take having a sockless foot and a head that feels like its caving in— she can’t take her best friend walking away and leaving her in this obscenely bright hallway to fend the light off by herself. If she loses her home she’s done for. “Tony no you can’t— you can’t go.”

She’s sobbing, chest heaving, and she just barely registers the soft clink of the mug settling against the floor before one of his arms is slipping under her thighs, hauling her toes off the floor. His other arm remains anchored around her back, fingers digging into her side to keep her from falling. The sudden motion makes her gasp— a watery, broken noise— her legs pushing around his hips and clinging for dear life.

“Hey—” his jaw rubs against her temple, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, stubble scratchy enough to regain her attention— “I’m here, doll. Right here— you honestly might be an idiot if you think I’m leaving you.”

She chokes out a laugh. It sounds more like a whimper— like she’s scrounging for the last drops of happiness in her for his sake. Probably because she is. She tightens her legs around his waist, socked ankle crossing over bare ankle, sucking in a deep breath as his thumb rubs circles on her ribcage.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” She sighs and his hand stills. “You were right.”

“Trust me— I wish I wasn’t.” His fingers crawl up her back, curling around the back of her neck, pushing the hair from her clammy skin.

The warmth of his skin on hers is like heaven and she tries to ignore the fact that he’s touching her while she’s a complete wreck. “You should hate me.”

His hand clamps harder around her skin, the sharp inhale he takes making his chest rise and push against hers. His fingers slip into her hair and he tugs gently, coaxing her to lift her head from shoulder. When she does she meets his determined, narrowed stare and his minute frown. Her heart clenches when she takes in the rest of his face, her gaze landing on the off purple bruises under his eyes, the tell tale sign that her best friend hasn’t been sleeping. It’s her fault— she knows it is.

He shakes his head, his brown hair ruffling slightly. “God, baby, you really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

Her lip trembles, her stomach squeezing— baby. “Tony—”

His forehead drops, his damp skin meeting her own, nose bumping against hers, drawing up the bridge and then back down— she can’t breathe. “You’re an idiot if you think for a second that I could hate you. For anything let alone something so damn ridiculous.”

He laughs a breathy, frenzied sound, nose drawing along her cheekbone. She must be dreaming. That's the only explanation as to the sudden lack of oxygen in the hallway— the only explanation to the way her veins are thrumming like guitar strings being plucked. This can’t be real. She feels like she’s going to wake up any minute now, throat raw and chest aching twice as much.

She opens mouth— she has to say something— but he keeps going. “An idiot if you think I wouldn’t follow you to the other end of the earth. Of the galaxy. Here you are thinking I hate you because you dated a moron? Because, what, I told you not to? Big deal— you tell me not to do things all the time. That’s what we do, baby. We tell eachother not to do stupid things and then we don’t listen.”

He pulls back enough to take in her face, eyes drawing over the curve of her nose and the slope of her cheeks before landing back on hers. His stare is intense— demanding, like him— she wouldn’t be able to look away if she wanted to. That’s impossible though; she could stare at this man all day and not get bored. She thinks back to all those days in his workshop, watching him fiddle with his suits. What she wouldn’t give to be there now, legs curled under her and his MIT hoodie— the same one on him now— pulled over her, singing along to their playlist and passing him screwdrivers. Her chest squeezes at the thought— she can’t remember the last time she did that.

His hand in her hair tugs again and she forces herself to stay in the moment, watching his lips form the words first and then letting her ears catch up. “He was a tool and you’re too good for that, alright? That has nothing to do with us. Point blank, whatever, he has no effect on us. Okay?”

She nods, her nose bumping against his again, and for the first time all night— all week— it feels like she can breathe. “Okay.”

His chest sags under her, the tension in his shoulders releasing under her fingers. “Good. Don’t say stupid things. That’s my job.”

“You’re right.” She cracks a smile, one that feels too foreign but entirely familiar. “You can have it back.”

Tony’s brows push together, head pulling back, his own smile beginning to carve over his lips. “Have what back?”

“The title of world’s biggest idiot.”

Just like that she’s giggling, throwing her head back and letting the laughter pour out of her. It’s cathartic— it’s natural. Like a dam breaking, it’s fast and dangerous and exhilarating. Before she knows it he’s laughing too, his forehead pressing against her shoulder, chest shaking, and she’s digging her fingers into his hoodie to keep herself steady. They’re definitely waking up everyone else in the compound but she doesn’t care. She only throws herself closer to him, hugging him so tight that she’s practically falling over his back, legs locked high around his stomach.

He turns his face against her neck, mumbling his words into her skin. “Missed you, doll.”

Her fingers slip into his hair, toying with the soft strands and sighing. “Missed you more.”

Groaning, he straightens, re-securing his arm around her. He passes her another smile, this one softer, more in control. She pulls at his hair in return, earning a half-hearted eye roll and the reward of him sinking his head against her hands. She scratches at his scalp lightly, scrunching her nose and trying not to giggle again. Now that she’s started she can’t stop— that’s his real super power; leaving her in stitches.

“You think you’re ready to sleep again?”

She sobers at his question, shrugging. She already knows she’s not. The thought of going back to her room and having to sleep without a pillow again, alone, makes her blanche. She would rather not sleep at all then do that. She may as well go make a pot of coffee if that’s her option. The answer bubbles in her mouth— no.

No she is not ready— but she has to be. She has to be a big girl. Even if it means sleeping with the window open so that she can’t smell her sheets, even if it means freezing because the windows are open and she can’t use her blankets, even if she would rather be tucked under the covers of Tony’s bed like the old days when things were normal and she was happy.

But she can’t say that— can she?

“I guess— you gotta’ put me down though,” is what she finally settles on, trying to keep the disappointment from her words. It definitely doesn’t work but for the sake of her sanity she pretends it does.

He frowns— fully this time— blinking at her like she’s grown another head. “Uh no I don’t.”

He says it sarcastically— like she’s crazy for even suggesting such a thing— his face incredulous. It makes her heart spike, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She’s missing something.

“Tony, what are you talking—“

And then he turns, starting down the hall, starting towards his room, and she shuts her mouth. She’s not going to protest— she’s not risking her chance.

She’s not an idiot.

[13-reasons-ideas]

Marry Me - Monty’s Perspective

A/N: Here it is. I’m so sorry this took so long to put out. I was having a really hard time getting into the right headspace to write this. I hope you guys like it! I recommend listening to Thomas Rhett’s Marry Me when you read this. As usual, feedback is appreciated and much love! -Em

Ellie was coming back into town for her engagement party this weekend. I was the first person she called when Evan proposed. She damn near gave me a heart attack when I answered, and she was scream-crying.

Flashback

I was watching the Chargers game when Ellie called. “Hey Elliebear.”

“Heaskedmetomarryhim.” She screeched on the other line. I had no idea what she said. It sounded like she was crying. And that I would be deaf in one ear. I pulled the phone away from my head until she stopped freaking out.

“What was that?”

“Evan proposed.” What?

“Oh?”

“And I said yes. I’m getting married Montgomery.” Oh.

“That’s great Ellie. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the pit that was forming.

“Thank you. I wanted you to be the first one to know, so I just wanted to call you quick. I can hear the game in the background, and we have more people to call so I’ll let you go now.”

“Okay, tell Evan I said hi and congratulations.”

“I will. Bye Monty.”

“Bye Ellie.” I hung up and sat back on the couch. She’s getting married.

End flashback

I was on break at work when I got a text from Ellie.

Hey you. I just got into town with Evan for the weekend. Are you free tonight?

I texted her back a few minutes later, yeah I’m free. What’s up?

She replied right away. Drinks or coffee? Just you and me. My parents are going over some details for tomorrow with Evan that they don’t want me around for.

Sure. Meet you at Monet’s at six?

I’ll save you a seat. Usual order?

You know I don’t change things Elliebear.

I stopped at home to change after work into something more comfortable. I grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a random t-shirt before grabbing an old flannel and running out the door, so I wasn’t late.Ellie barely beat me to the café. It wasn’t surprising really, since she was always the early one.

“Hey, what can I get you this evening?” the barista asked her.

“Can I get a-”

“She’ll get a skinny vanilla bean latte with only one pump of vanilla, a dash of cinnamon, and extra foam in a for here cup. I’ll get a regular black coffee. And she’ll also have the chicken and spinach sandwich.” I said behind her. The barista looked at her, unsure if she should ring it in or not. Ellie nodded and turned around to face me. Before I had a chance to say anything, she jumped into my arms for a hug.

“Hey Elliebear.” I grunted.  

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Our orders were finished quickly as it was surprisingly slow for a Friday night. Luckily, that meant our table was free. We sat down and conversation flowed easily. It was almost like we had never been apart.

“The ring is nice. It suits you. Bigger than I thought you would like but it’s nice.”

“It is nice, yeah. That reminds me, Evan said he’s looking forward to meeting you tomorrow.”

“So am I. See who finally caught your interest.”

“I was interested in other people before Evan.” She told me, scandalously. Sure, you did El. I didn’t let myself think about the possibility of her liking me that way when we were younger.

“Ellie. That guy from drama class doesn’t count. And neither does your chemistry partner.”

“I was not interested in Adam. And Zach was my chemistry partner. I can assure you I was not into him.”

“Please, enlighten me as to these people you were interested in before Evan.”

“There was,” she paused. “Dylan from sophomore English was cute. Ian. Couple other guys in high school. Peter from my first year anthropology class was… very attractive, and smart.”

“One guy aside from Evan? University of Georgia is a big school. There’s no way you only had eyes for two people.”

“I was busy. I practically lived in the library when I wasn’t in class or my dorm. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Is there a girl I should be hearing about? Or should have heard about?”

“Nah. Nothing important or anything to write home about. I was busy.” I wouldn’t call what I did, dating. The point wasn’t to find someone to bring home. Who I wanted to bring home was over 900 miles away.

“Oh please Monty, you played ball at OSU. You honestly expect me to believe there was no girl in your life?”

“No, no. There were girls. Just nothing really serious.”

“Uh, huh.” She replied, sarcastically. We reached for our cups at the same time and our hands brushed. I was immediately transported back to the day of homecoming in senior year.

Flashback

“Remember students. The homecoming game is tonight at 6:30. You’ll want to be there early as our Liberty Tigers take on the Hildebrandt Mustangs if you want good seats. It’s sure to be a nail biter.” Principal Bolan’s voice boomed from the intercom during the morning announcements.

“Don’t know why he’s hyping it up to be a nail biter.” Scott laughed.

“We are playing Hildebrandt. We could literally not show up and still win.” I joked. “Have any of you seen Ellie? She’s usually here to force me to English by now.”

“Nah man.” Scott replied.

“Need lover girl to make sure you do what you’re supposed to?” Bryce teased.

“Fuck off. It’s not like that with us.” Unfortunately.

“Sure it’s not Monty. I refuse to believe you never hit it.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” I threatened, lowly. Don’t push it man. Bryce shut up at my tone. “I’m going to go try and find her. I’ll see you guys at lunch.”

She was arranging her books when I found her at her locker. She was trailed by Clay and Alex. I pulled her into my arms and lifted off the ground. “Montgomery, put me down!” she laughed.

“Never.” I laughed, evilly.

“I have to grab my chem book. And go to chemistry.”

“I’ve got it.” Zach said as he grabbed her book, “you carrying her to class today?”

“Nah, I thought about it but since I had to come find her this morning, I figure she can make it there on her own.”

“I was running late. My alarm didn’t go off when it was supposed to.”

“Excuses, excuses.” I replied, putting her down and shaking my head.

“I’ll see you guys later? Zach and I are running late.”

“Sure. Justin said if I don’t go to the game tonight, he’d tell mom and dad about Ani. And I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Someone has to keep Clay company, so I have to go too.” Alex said, pushing clay lightly.

“Great. I’ll see you then. See you at lunch Monty.”

I sat through just about the driest English class of my life, counting the minutes on my watch. Math was no better. We were reviewing for a test that almost the whole

class failed. Somehow that was our fault for not studying enough. I let out a sigh of relief when the lunch bell rang.

The table was already mostly full when Ellie came and sat next to me. “Ellie, think you could pray for us to not lose this game tonight?” Bryce sniggered from the end of the table.

“Hey, quit being a dick.” I stated. Bryce responded by chucking a grape at me. I threw it back at him. I knew how important her faith was to her. Some things just weren’t okay to be joked about or questioned. When it came to Ellie, faith was one of them.

“It’s fine Monty. Not like he hasn’t done it before.” I know he has. I don’t like it. “It’s going to take a lot more than God to help you win if you don’t learn to throw better than that in the next six hours. But sure.” I watched her from the corner of my eye as she smirked to herself before beginning. I’d seen her pray for real before. This wasn’t that. “Lord, please help the guys win tonight. Give them the ability to not trip over themselves when they make plays. And God, please show Bryce how to make the ball go where it’s supposed to and not hit some poor kid in the head again. Maybe, just maybe, then he will get laid tonight and we all know that’s really why he asked me to pray.” She smirked at Bryce. I choked on my juice. She probably isn’t wrong. Was pretty funny when that kid got hit though.

“You need to quit hanging out with Monty, he’s rubbing off on you too much. And I was serious.”

“I know. I’ll do it for real after lunch. You can sit with me if you want.” She was true to her word. I was late for Geography because I was watching her sit in an empty alcove praying. Bryce didn’t sit with her.

The locker room was abuzz with excitement. It was the homecoming game. Not to mention our season opener. If we wanted to start the season off right, we had to win. Sure, we joked around about Hildebrandt being an easy team to beat-they came in second to last in the league last year-but there was still a chance they would pull off a miracle. Especially if Bryce threw like he did at lunch. “Yo Monty, is Ellie coming to Monet’s tonight?”

“She said she would. Not that she’ll give you the time of day.” I waved off Matt’s question. She’s not interested. Trust me. Find someone else to have your eyes on. Several ‘oooo’s were voiced around us.

“How do you know?”

“Just do, man.”

“I could treat her real nice. She’d beg me for more.” Are you fucking kidding me?

“Oh shit.” Someone muttered, seriously. I didn’t really hear who it was. The sound of my blood rushing in my ears was too loud. Coach Kerba wasn’t in the room. He was talking to Banes about plays. No one in here will snitch. Not when it’s about Ellie.

I immediately turned towards him and cornered him against his locker. The rest of the team stood silently, watching us. I got real close to his face so only he would hear me. “You even think about her like that again and I will bury you so deep they’ll need ground penetrating radar to find you. Not that they’d recognize you if anyone found your body. If you so much as brush against her too hard in the halls, I’ll break your jaw. You understand Carraway?”

“Y-yeah. I got you. Never said a word.” He breathed in response. I had scared the living shit out of him. Good. I stepped away from him and after a few beats the incident was forgotten and the mood was light again.

The game wasn’t that exciting. Had it not been homecoming, most people probably wouldn’t have shown up. As expected, it was in our favour most of the first half. Ellie waved at me between plays. She was practically beaming. During the second half Hildebrandt seemed to find their groove and the game was at least interesting to play. It wasn’t the nail biter Principal Bolan had promised this morning. Everyone knew that regardless of how we played, we would end up winning. The game ended and the team and the crowd were excited. Matt and Garrison were so excited by the win, they tripped over their own feet and faceplanted on the sidelines. The excitement died down for a moment until they shot up and went on celebrating.

I waited for Ellie outside the locker room, as per our tradition. “Good game.” She called.

“Of course, it was. I was on the field.” I smirked.

“Modest as ever I see.”

“Do you expect anything else at this point Elliebear?” “Not really. But I can hope, maybe one day.”

“Maybe, but not likely.”

“Oh hey, while I’m thinking about it, Clay asked me to keep an eye on Justin tonight.”

“Is everything okay?” My brow furrowed.

“I think so. Clay said something about him having issues adjusting and stuff. Do you think you can play nice with him for a while?”

“I suppose, since he is your friend, I can try and be nice for a while. But not all night. I want some Ellie time.” Only because it’s you asking.

“And you’ll get your Ellie time. After you make nice with Justin.”

I sighed, making it seem like a hassle just to get a rise out of her. I was about to respond when Bryce called us, “are you two going to stand there and chit chat all night or are we going to celebrate?”

“We’re coming. Give us a minute asshole.” I called back to him. Bryce didn’t respond.

I turned around so I could give her a piggyback out to the car. “Hop on”. Once she felt secure, I walked us out to the parking lot. I pretended to not pay attention when she stole my baseball hat. She couldn’t see the way my smirk turned into a smile when she did.

“That’s my hat El.”

“I know. I happen to like it though, so I’m wearing it.”

“I’m not getting it back tonight, am I?”

“Nope. It is now mine. Might even write my name in it.”

“You do that Ellie. I won’t care when I steal it back who’s name it has in it.” Already has my name in it. Yours would just complete it.

“Fine. Then I’ll readjust it.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would.”

I set her down at her car. “No, you wouldn’t.” I called her bluff. You’re too sweet to do it. Or you’d fix it right away if you did. She rolled her eyes at me.

“Whatever. I’ll see you at Monet’s in a few with your precious hat.” I waited until she got in her car and drove off, before starting my own engine and following her.

Ellie beat me to Monet’s as usual. I nodded at and stopped to chat with some of my teammates when I came in. Matt nodded awkwardly at me as I passed. I glared in return. My coffee was set across from her when I got to our table. “I see you told the truth. Can I have it back now?”

“No. I think it looks quite fetching on me, if I do say so myself.”

“Fetching?”

“Yes. Do you disagree?”

“No, I think it looks good on you.” Not that anything would look bad on you. Suits her. She’s wearing my shirt.

“That’s what I thought.”

We chatted quietly before Justin showed up. “Hey guys.” He waved.

“Justin! You made it.” She exclaimed, too excitedly. Making him think you were forced to babysit him by being overly happy isn’t going to help Elliebear. I shot her a tone it down look. Justin smiled uncomfortably as she offered up her seat. “Make room.”

“Can do sweetheart.” I flirted, patting the chair next to me. The smile and blush she tried to mask didn’t go unnoticed.

“Thanks for the coffee Ellie.” Justin said, taking a sip.

“No problem.” The three of us chatted idly for a while. I was on my best behaviour with Justin and even laughed a few times at couple things he said. There was no mention of what he witnessed in the locker room.

My hand found Ellie’s under the table and I grasped it carefully. I had to make it look like I hadn’t done it intentionally. I could see the pink flare of her cheeks and my lip twitched upwards.

“Hey Justin, come over here and look at this.” Charlie called. He was looking at something on Garrisons’ phone. Justin left us to go investigate. I caught the quick glance at our hands, even if Ellie didn’t. Thank you, Foley.

“And then there were two.” I muttered, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Then there were two.” She repeated.

“That shirt looks good on you. It’s pretty familiar too.”

“Oh, yeah. There may be a reason for that.” She seemed nervous.

“Need to go talk to Mike?”

“Not if you don’t have a problem with it. I think he would agree it was simply borrowing, rather than stealing. No need to involve Jesus.”

“I am. So now you’ve got my shirt and my hat. Anything else you intend on taking of mine?” I slowly inched closer to her. We have never gone here. But there’s no way she doesn’t feel this pull.

“Possibly. Depends what else you’re willing to offer.” She said, coyly. My fingers itched to brush the hair from her face. She beat me to it.

“I think there’s a thing or two I could offer you Ellie.” I replied, leaning in a little more. What am I doing? What if she doesn’t feel the same way. Am I about to ruin our friendship? Do I even care? Before I could kiss her, fucking Bryce Walker beckoned from across the room. Son of a bitch. You couldn’t wait two god damn seconds, could you? This better be important.

I stopped just short of kissing her. “What?” I answered, curtly.

“My place, half an hour.” He called back. That is what was so important you had to interrupt this moment? That could have waited. Fucker. I nodded in response and turned back to Ellie, hoping the moment wasn’t gone. I knew it was though. I sighed internally. She was smiling at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes like it normally did. She’s upset. I didn’t know what to say to try and salvage our moment. Instead, I watched her take a sip of her latte and check her watch.

“Shoot. Is that really the time? I have plans with my mom in the morning. I should get going.” I’ll take bullshit for 200, Alex. She never was a good liar.

“Oh, okay. Are we still on for waffles Sunday afternoon?” I tried to hide my disappointment.

“Yeah. Be at my place around one? I need to talk to Pastor Mike about a few things after service.”

“I’ll be there. Text me when you get home.”

“I will.” She hurried out of the café so fast, someone might think there was a fire.

I threw my head back in my chair and ran my hands down my face. Bryce and Matt were watching me when I looked out at the room again. I mimicked Ellie’s actions and took my half empty cup to the counter. “You couldn’t have waited one minute, could you Walker?” I grumbled as I passed him.

“Sorry dude.” He called after me. “My place-.”

“Half an hour. Yeah. I got that.” I shook my head as I left the café.

End flashback

I turned to watch her take a sip of her latte. She still savoured the taste and licked her bottom lip the same way. “What about the blonde girl you told me about briefly?”

Blonde girl… Lip piercing? No. Was a red head. The sorority girl? That was the brunette with the Adderall. Blonde… oh! Chirpy. “Sara?”

“Yeah.”

“She was nice. Very peppy and chipper though.”

“Ah yes. Need to keep up that stoic exterior. Can’t have someone too chipper, lest people think you have a soul or something.” You always thought I did.

“Exactly.” I laughed. He took a long sip from his cooled coffee. “Can you imagine if I brought her home?”

“Well, knowing your mother, I would probably be attending your engagement party tomorrow instead of the other way around.”

“Oh probably.”

“How is your mom doing, by the way?” “She’s doing okay. After dad died, she was pretty out of it for a few months. She’s gotten better with time though. Really started to come into her own and forge her own path.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Not going to ask how I’m doing Ellie?”

“No. I know how you’re doing.”

“Oh really?”

“Montgomery. I am your best friend. Your dad was never a parent. DNA doesn’t make someone your family. You’re doing the same as you did the day you left and vowed to never speak to him again.”

Her easy explanation surprised me. “Sometimes I forget how well you know me.”

“I know. That’s why I have to remind you all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah. How did Evan react to Scott on the way from the airport?”

“I’m not totally sure. I don’t think he realized how things worked at Liberty and exactly what you and I being friends meant. Scott told him about the treehouse.” Oh God.

“Oh no. Ellie. I need to look the guy in the eye tomorrow.”

“I know you do. Don’t worry. He didn’t seem upset or anything. I think he found it amusing actually.”

“Did he tell him anything else?”

“About you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, mentioned how you guys fucked up and didn’t study for midterms and I singlehandedly kept you all on the team. And how Matt and Garrison managed to keep themselves above their feet until after homecoming senior year.”

“Of course, he did.”

“Don’t worry. Evan will like you.”

“How do you know?” Why do I care? Because you love her you dolt.

“Because I like you. And even though you think you are, you really aren’t a bad guy.” We talked for about another hour or so, just catching up, before we decided to call it a night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Three o’clock sharp.”

“Good.” She squeezed me tightly. When we pulled apart, I looked down and saw she was wearing my shirt. She kept it all these years.

“Is that my shirt?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I thought I lost that years ago.”

“You never asked for it back. We agreed that I technically borrowed it, remember?”

“Yeah, but I also thought you would have given it back by now.”

“I mean, I can give it back to you tomorrow if you want it.” She offered.

“No, no. You keep it. You seem comfortable in it.” She smiled and hugged me again before leaving.

No matter how much I tried to talk myself into cancelling at the last minute or just not showing up to the party, I couldn’t do it. As much as I wanted to let her finally think that I was an ass, I couldn’t. I couldn’t hurt her like that. So, I manned up and went to Ellie’s engagement party. I showed up right at three, as promised. “Hey you.” She beamed. Her whole face lit up when she saw me.

“Hey Elliebear.” I said as I hugged her. Evan stood to the side, giving us a moment. He looked so uncomfortable with our interaction. Maybe he noticed how much brighter her face got when she saw me. She pulled away first and turned towards her fiancé.

“Evan, this is Monty. Monty, this is Evan.” She motioned between us. I shook his hand awkwardly.

“So, you found the way to Ellie’s heart, huh?”

“Yeah. She is something special. I thank God every day that she decided to give me a chance.”

“Don’t I know it?” I replied, trying to hide the wistfulness and ignore the pang of jealously in my chest.

Jill called her over for something and she pointed Scott out to me. Trying to avoid a pissing match El? “Coming Mom. Scott is over there by the cupcakes. Try to keep him from eating himself to a sugar high?”

I laughed, “can do Ellie. It was nice meeting you Evan. Congratulations.”

“You too Monty. Enjoy the party.” He doesn’t like me.

“Hey Scotty.”

“I didn’t think you’d show up. Justin and I had a bet going. I owe him fifty bucks.”

“Well, you know. It’s Ellie.” I grabbed a cupcake from the stand and took a bite. Not bad. I see why she wants me to monitor Scott.

“That’s why I didn’t think you’d come.”

“You came.” Justin said, patting me on the back in lieu of greeting.

“Yup. Where’s Sasha?”

“Girl talk with Ellie and Jess and some other girls.”

“Riveting. What choice did I have? My options were come, watch her with Evan, and hate every second of it for an hour or two, or, not come and have her hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“I guess. Are you going to go to the wedding?” Justin asked.

“See if Evan lets her invite me first. He doesn’t seem too impressed so far. Thanks for that by the way Scott.”

“I’m sure he’ll warm up to you.”

“If you’re invited? Which you will be, because you’re her best friend.”

“Then what kind of best friend would I be, if I didn’t go to her wedding? I’d just hate myself for a few more hours then. That’s better than a lifetime of her hating me.”

“Fair. Look, if you want to leave, just say the word. We can go back to my place and drink.” Scott offered.

“Thanks. I need to stick it out. It’s Ellie.” The rest of the party was fine. I talked to Jill and Rob for a while. I even talked to Evan for a bit. It was awkward but we didn’t fight each other. If he suspected anything about my feelings for her, he didn’t say anything. I left that evening, wondering if he noticed Ellie looking for me and not him all afternoon and letting my brain go somewhere it hadn’t gone in years. At least, not willingly gone in years.

I held out some sick hope that maybe, just maybe, the engagement wouldn’t last. I knew it was wrong of me, but I couldn’t help it. This was the girl that I had been in love with since the eighth grade. That’s when she stopped being like one of the guys. When she became something more. Even though I knew it wasn’t an attainable thing, even back then, there was always this little spark of hope. She was the reason I didn’t really date in college. She was the reason no girl was worth bringing home to meet my mom. They were all compared to her. They would always be compared to her. I always hoped that she felt the same way about me as I felt about her. That hope vanished when I checked my mail after work that Wednesday. The fancy envelope and familiar script were enough of a giveaway. I didn’t need to open the card to know what it was. The invitation. I sighed as I went in the house and opened the card. I merely skimmed for the important dates and time. I knew in that moment that I had finally lost her. I also knew that I would go anyway as I signed, sealed, and mailed the RSVP that night. I had to go. It’s Ellie.

**

The day had finally arrived. I had been dreading this day for the better part of a year. It was the morning of Ellie’s wedding. I woke up, forced myself to get out of bed, made coffee, and showered. I stared at the black suit hanging on my bedroom door for fifteen minutes. Arguing with myself about if I was really going to do this was getting me nowhere closer to a decision. If I go, I’ll hate myself. If I don’t go, she’ll hate me. If I go, I’m losing her. If I don’t go, I’m losing her. If I go, then I’ll get to see her. If I don’t go, I won’t see her. If I go, I’ll have to hold my feelings in forever. If I don’t go, I’ll have to hold my feelings in forever. Finally, I came to a decision. I wasn’t willing to risk losing her because I couldn’t show up for her. If I wasn’t going to be able to be with her, at least I could still be in her life. Maybe. But I’d cross that bridge when I got to it. I put the suit on and fixed my hair. Then I went to the liquor cabinet and filled a flask with whiskey. I couldn’t drink it in church because if Ellie found out, she would kill me, Ten Commandments be damned.

I arrived at the church forty-five minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to start. I took a sip from the flask in my pocket on the city sidewalk. Spotting Bryce, I walked over to him. “Hey.”

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“It’s going, you?”

“Same old, same old.” We chatted mindlessly for a few minutes until Justin showed up with Clay and Sasha. I’m shocked we haven’t gotten a happy announcement from them yet. She looks thrilled.

“Justin, Clay. Hey Sasha.” The trio greeted me, and Clay took Sasha inside. He seemed to pick up on the displeasure radiating off of her.

“Holding up okay?” Justin asked.

“Sure.”

“He’s at his best friend’s wedding.”

“I know. Just trying to be nice Bryce.” Zach showed up and broke some of the tension brewing between Bryce and Justin. Never thought I’d be happy to see Zach freaking Dempsey.

“So, I heard from one of the groomsmen that she looks beautiful.”

“Of course, she does. It’s Ellie. And it’s her wedding day.” I said. Scott found us milling in the back of the chapel and came over. He didn’t bother greeting us.

“Have you talked to her?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to give her space. In case I decided not to come.”

“Oh. You could go talk to her now.”

“And say what Scott?”

“Tell her.”

“Tell her what? It’s her wedding.”

“I know that.” I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to our little group. They weren’t.

“Tell her what exactly Scott? How do you propose I go about telling her that I think she’s making a mistake and that I’ve been in love with her since we were thirteen? I’m not going to do that. Not today. Not ever. I’m not messing this up for her.” I whisper-yelled.

“He has a point Scott.” Zach pointed out.

“If I say something, I’ll lose her forever. So, to avoid losing my best friend, I’m going to sit here, watch her marry the man she loves, and wish her the best. And then I will go home, get very drunk, and sleep the hangover off for the next two days.”

Scott raised his hands in defeat. “Okay. I get your point. I’m not going to push you into doing something you don’t want to do.” Even though I made a good little speech, the closer we got to the ceremony, the more uncomfortable I became. I couldn’t stop the thoughts of wanting to do exactly what Scott suggested. I wanted nothing more than to go find her and tell her how I felt. But then I looked around the room and saw all of these people waiting excitedly to see Ellie and Evan get married and live happily ever after. I wasn’t going to be the reason that didn’t happen. But the closer we got to ceremony time, the closer I also got to losing my resolve to sit here and watch this happen. I couldn’t watch her marry someone else.

“I can’t do this.” I said suddenly.

“What?” Zach asked.

“I can’t watch her marry him. I can’t sit here and watch them get married. I can’t give her up like this.”

“What are you doing Monty?” Scott asked. I stood up from my seat.

“Tell Ellie that I’m sorry.” With nothing more to say, I turned around and walked out of the church. My friends didn’t try to follow me, too stunned to process what was happening. I got in my car and drove. I wasn’t sure where I was driving until I pulled into the lot.

I opened the door to the quaint café and saw that our table was available. Though, I suppose now it was more my table than our table. I lost her today. There was no way I was getting her back after what I did. I slipped my jacket off and hung it over a chair to save the spot, before going to the counter and ordering.

“Can I get a tall bourbon neat. Make it a double.” Monet’s had been licensed a few years ago.

“Sure thing. Rough day?” The barista asked.

“You have no idea.” I shook my head and took the drink she set in front of me. Back at what was now only my table, I pulled out my phone and scrolled though some old photos. A lot of them were of Ellie. She used to like to steal my phone and leave me with some selfies to surprise me when I opened the app. I scrolled through the seemingly endless stream of photos and ordered another bourbon when I finished the first one. My trip down memory lane was interrupted when I got a text from Bryce.

I need you to tell me where you are.

Why?

Because I do. Now tell me where you are.

Why?

Montgomery. You want to tell me where you are.

Fine. If you must know. I’m at Monet’s. Now why do you need to know?

I’m sorry about homecoming night. I hope this can make it up to you at least a little. I stared at the screen in confusion. Shaking my head, I put my phone down and went back to sipping the amber liquor. What the hell is he talking about? Fucking Bryce. I didn’t look up when I heard the bell chime above the door. Nor did I look up when I heard the click of high heels against the wood floors.

“Is this seat taken?” I heard a familiar voice, softly.

I looked up at her then, my eyes widening in surprise. What is she doing here? She is supposed to be getting married to Evan. What does this mean? Why is she here?

“I couldn’t do it if you weren’t there. You’re my best friend Monty.”

I scoffed quietly before replying, “it’s not taken, no. Sit if you want,” and taking another drink from my glass, not looking at her for fear of letting my guard down again, only to be crushed again.

“Hey,” she started, reaching for my hand. I looked at her hand and paused before letting her take it, “I mean it. I couldn’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

She was quiet for a moment. Noticing I had about fingers width of bourbon left in my glass, she grabbed it, downing the rest of it.

“Hey. I was drinking that.” I protested.

“I couldn’t marry Evan because he wasn’t you. And you weren’t there to say anything by the time I walked down the aisle. You were just going to give me away and live the rest of our lives wondering what if.” She told me while she stared into the bottom of the now empty glass.

“You- really?” Wait, how did she know I was there? “How did you know…?”

“Zach told me.” Of course, he did. I sighed internally.

“I know I wasn’t there Ellie. I just. I couldn’t sit there in that church and watch you marry him. And I knew I was and would be too much of a coward to stand up and say something when I saw you standing up there with him. I had to let you be happy.” I told her, trying to make her understand that I couldn’t be the reason she spent her life unhappy.

“Don’t you get it Montgomery? I wouldn’t have been happy. Not really. Or at least not for long. Not with Evan.”

“So why did you agree to marry him?”

“Because I thought it would be easier? My friends liked him, my family liked him, I liked him. I just thought that it would be easier to ignore my feelings. I could marry him, officially move to Atlanta, come home a couple of times a year, have a couple of kids. It all seemed easier than admitting to myself that I was in love with my best friend and if I really, truly wanted to be happy, I would need to be with him instead. And that admitting that would change everything. But I’ve learned over the past year that easy doesn’t always mean happy. And sometimes what we think is easy in the short term, isn’t always easy in the long term.”

Easier. Sure. She finally admitted it. She’s in love with me. I chuckled lowly, “took you long enough.”

She furrowed her brow at me, “what is that supposed to mean? I just confessed my love for you, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Yeah. It took you long enough to come to that conclusion. You were what? Half-way through the ceremony before you put a stop to it?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my tone.

“Not exactly. I knew a while ago. I spent the whole morning shaking and waiting for you to come and tell me that I was making a mistake. When you didn’t come, I thought… that you either didn’t feel the same way, or that you were going to do the kind thing for once and not say anything, but I thought at least you would be there. When I saw that you weren’t, I knew I couldn’t marry him. Even if it was the easy choice.” When I didn’t say anything she added, “you picked a great time to do the kind thing.”

“Yeah, well. You knew it would happen sometime. You owe me another shot by the way.” I muttered.

“Oh please. There was barely a fingers width in your glass.” she told me, sighing dramatically.

I looked at her through my eyelashes, “they won’t serve you that small an amount.” she rolled her eyes and stood up to go order me another shot. Before I could chicken out again, I surprised her when I grabbed her wrist to stop her, before pulling her down into my lap, she fell rather gracefully given the fit of her dress and kissing her deeply. I pulled away first and turned to look out the window. Our friends had gotten out of the car and were clapping and high fiving each other.

“How about that shot now?” I smirked.

[notorious-lightning-thief]

The Stag and The Doe Chapter Seven

Here is an excpert from Chapter 7! Read the entire story on Ao3

Chapter Seven: We Gotta Get Back to Hogwarts

Lily, James, and the gang head back for their final year at Hogwarts.

"Where is she?" James asked to no one in particular. It was 10:45 a.m., and the Head Girl had yet to show up to catch the Hogwarts Express. James must have searched the entire train three times, and he had yet to find a trace of her.

"Relax, mate," Sirius said casually. "I'm sure she's just late. She'll be here."

"Lily Evans, late?" James asked incredulously. "Lily Evans has never been late a day in her life."

"She's not late yet, Prongs," Remus pointed out. Remus Lupin, always the voice of reason. And the only Marauder that could ever keep a calm head under pressure. He was arguably their most important member with that skill.

"Yes, but she's cutting it awfully close," James said while pacing their compartment.

"Maybe it's to avoid looking at your ugly face," Peter joked. Everyone but James laughed.

James gave Sirius a look that read I can't deal with this right now.

"Yeah, not a good time, Wormtail," Sirius said to Peter. Sirius grabbed James firmly by the shoulders. "Look, Prongs, I love you, but you have got to calm the fuck down. Lily Evans will walk through that door any minute, is this really how you want her to see you when she does?"

"You're right," James took a deep breath. "She'll be here. Thanks, Padfoot."

Sirius smiled at James and brought him in for a hug. "Anytime, Prongs."

"Well, well, well, doesn't this look cozy," a voice came drawling from the compartment door.

James and Sirius broke apart and whipped around to find the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and hip cocked, was none other than Lily Evans.

James's heart skipped a beat when he saw her standing there. He didn't have much time to admire her, because a second later, Marlene McKinnon was bounding into the room.

"Hello, boys! Miss us?!" Marlene yelled while jumping at Sirius. He caught her at the last second; she was being unusually clumsy. Sirius turned to look at James with a face that clearly read, What the fuck? James just shrugged. Marlene was weird sometimes.

"For fuck's sake, Marlene," Lily snapped. "Not so bloody loud."

James took a moment to admire Lily. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that was snug across her chest, her hair was knotted in a bun on the top of her head, and she had a pair of large sunglasses on. James thought she looked rather tired. Something is wrong, James thought. Lily Evans was always the picture of put together. Maybe she's sick?

"Sirius, darling, it's been too long," Marlene cried. She gave him a loud, wet kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you too, McKinnon," Sirius said, confused. He looked around helplessly at the rest of the group.

"Remus!" Marlene yelled shrilly. James noticed Lily wince, and her fingers immediately started massaging her temple.

Marlene planted another wet kiss to Remus's cheek before moving on and greeting Peter in the same fashion. She stopped when she got to James.

"James Potter! I won't kiss you because I don't want someone to get jealous," she whispered loudly while pointing at Lily.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Ignore her. She’s still drunk from last night."

"Wait, last night?" James looked at Marlene. Her hair looked like she had just rolled out of bed, she had dark streaks under her eyes and running down her face, and now that she was close enough, James noticed she reeked of alcohol. "You're drunk?"

Marlene started giggling. "Shhh, don't tell Lily."

"I think it's a little late for that," Remus said. "Marlene, why don't you come sit next to me?"

He gently tugged her down onto the bench, and she flopped down next to him. "Lily and I went out in Muggle London last night."

"Muggle London?" Remus asked. "How did you even get served? Aren't you underaged for a Muggle? I thought the drinking age was eighteen?"

"Oh, Remus, you're cute," Lily smiled at him. "You'd be surprised what a pretty smile and low-cut top can get you."

"That's my girl," Sirius said with a wink. "Pray tell, Lilykins, what else did you get, you little vixen?"

"I got three boys' felfyphone numbers," Marlene said proudly.

"Telephone numbers," Lily corrected. She started to drag two large trunks in. "No, Mar, don't help. I'll get your bloody bags."

"Let me get them," James said, stepping forward and grabbing one of the bags from Lily.

"Thanks," she smiled at him gratefully. Together they started bringing in the girls' trunks.

"Three phone numbers, eh, McKinnon?" Sirius said with a wink. "Not bad. How about you, Evans. How many numbers did you get?"

"None," Lily answered while she helped James left their trunks up to the luggage rack. "Who would look me while the beautiful and radiant Marlene McKinnon in the room? Isn't that right, Mar?"

"I would," James murmured. He didn't know if anyone had heard him. But Lily looked at him and shot him a grateful smile. Her smile quickly disappeared, though, and she once again looked almost ill. "You okay, Lily?"

James could see a blush starting to appear on her cheeks, even with her large sunglasses covering most of her face.

"I'm fine," Lily snapped. "You would be in a foul mood, too, if you had to deal with a drunk Marlene trying to get onto the platform."

James chuckled. "I don't envy you, that's for sure. You guys must have gone pretty hard last night if she's still drunk."

"Don't even get me started. We switched to scotch pretty early on and were out until three this morning." Lily and James had finished with the trunks and sat down next to each other on the bench. "I'm exhausted."

"Lily!" Sirius yelled, scandalized. "Do my ears deceive me? You were drinking scotch?"

Lily winced when Sirius yelled her name. "Bloody hell, Sirius. Can everyone please stop fucking yelling!"

Everyone looked at her for a moment. "Are you hungover?" Sirius asked.

Lily just groaned and put her head in her hands. "Please, just whisper, alright?"

"You are, aren't you, Evans?" Sirius looked like Christmas had come early, and he certainly did not whisper.

"Yes, alright. I'm completely hungover," Lily admitted. "Happy?"

"Yes, actually I am," Sirius smiled. "Poor Lily can't handle her scotch. Let me guess, you drink it on the rocks, too. Nice and watered down for you, eh?"

Lily glanced up, pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, and sent her classic Evans glare at Sirius. "Do we look like little boys to you? We are women, Black. We drink our scotch neat."

James, Peter, and Remus howled with laughter. Sirius glared right back at Lily. "I would drink you under the table, Evans."

Lily stood up with her hands clenched tightly to her side. "I would like to see you try, Black."

"Name the time and place, dear," Sirius said lazily.

"Friday night. Gryffindor Common Room." Lily said through clenched teeth.

Sirius stood up as well, holding his hand out to Lily. "Deal."

They shook hands while they continued to glare at each other. James knew it was unfortunate timing, but he was extremely turned on by this side of Lily.

"Well, that should be interesting," Remus said.

"I want in!" Marlene yelled suddenly.

Lily winced again. "Dammit, Marlene, keep it down!"

"I'll take that action, McKinnon," Peter said. They shook on it as well.

Bloody hell, James thought, this is going to be a disaster.

Lily closed her eyes and massaged her temples again. "Remus, we should get going. The prefect meeting is about to start."

Remus, Lily, and James made their way to the door. "Where do you think you're going, Potter?" Lily asked.

"To the prefect meeting," James answered simply.

"Which is for prefects only," Lily said.

"Right, and the Head Boy," James had been waiting all summer to surprise Lily with this.

"You? You're Head Boy?" Lily asked, shocked.

"Afraid so," James answered while running his hand through his hair nervously.

"Don't worry, Evans," Sirius said. "We were all surprised as well. I mean, who in their right ruddy mind would make James Potter Head Boy?"

James shot him a look. Sirius knew James was nervous about being Head Boy. James had thought about writing several letters to Dumbledore and McGonagall to ask them why the hell they had made him Head Boy. Remus had to talk him down from doing it.

"Actually, I think it makes perfect sense," Lily smiled sweetly at James.

"You do?" Sirius asked.

"You do?" James repeated.

"Sure," Lily shrugged. "I mean you're a great leader, students really look up to, and you finally stopped being such a prat last year. I think you'll be brilliant."

James beamed at her. He had been so worried all summer over what her reaction might be. He knew they had been getting on much better lately, but he still worried that she considered him too much of a git to be any good at the job. Hell, even James thought that. But hearing her say he'd be brilliant erased all doubt from his mind. Lily believes in me, James thought. I can do this! Hearing her say that was all the validation James needed. Who gives a fuck what everyone else thinks?

"Shall we go, Head Boy?" Lily asked with a sly smile.

"Let's, Head Girl," James smiled back. Lily dropped her sunglasses back onto her face, and they set off towards the Prefect Compartment.

Read the rest of the chapter here.

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

can i req a fluffyish little thing of friends with benefits to lovers like Draco & Theo realize they just don't want to be without Hermione? idk if that made sense sorry but thank you and your writing is fabulous

Thank you for this one! Here’s a slightly older trio, with some nsfw at the end.

___

“I can’t meet on Friday,” Hermione said as she stood in the doorway to her office, and Draco scowled.  

“Got better plans then, have you?” he asked with an unusually acerbic bite, falling into stride beside her and heading for the Atrium.  

She paused, scowling. “Yes, I do, actually. You don’t have a monopoly on me. I thought we agreed on that when all this started.”

“Got a date then?” he asked, eyes darkening.  

“I do, as a matter of fact.”

Draco’s chest imploded completely in the space of a single heartbeat, but he tried to keep his usual mask of cool indifference. “Anyone we know?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You forfeited the right to my personal life when you told me… what was it…? Oh yes: ‘it’s just sex, Granger.’”  

Fuck. Why ever did he say that? Whatever possessed him to tell her that she didn’t matter that much to him?  That she was just a quick fuck at the end of the week, and nothing more. She was everything.  

“Fine. Enjoy yourself. See you at work on Monday.”

“You and Theo enjoy yourselves too,” she called bitterly towards his retreating back. “I’m sure you can find a way to amuse yourselves without me.”

“I’m sure we can,” he said over his shoulder, and stalked off to the fireplaces.  

He could feel her eyes on him as he left, but he was damned if he was going to look back. He was an auror now, and Theo a cursebreaker, and he was damned if he was going to let Granger in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures know he was quite literally seething with jealousy.  

“Nott Manor,” he said, disappearing in a rush of green flames.  

He emerged into Theo’s personal study, finding it empty, and growled. Stalking through the thoroughly depressing labyrinth of Nott Manor, he eventually located Theo in the vaults. “Theo, The Leaky, half an hour,” he said before heading to the fireplace in the corner and flinging an enormous handful of powder down. “Malfoy Manor.”

Dressed in his very best-tailored black trousers, black shirt, and black cloak, clasps and cufflinks adorned with the silver snakes and peacock feathers of the Malfoy crest, Draco flooed into the Leaky Cauldron and immediately spotted Theo’s tall, coltish frame.  

When he saw Draco appear, Theo left his place at the bar and crossed to the hearth to meet him, a firewhisky in each hand. “Rough day I take it?” he said by way of greeting, kissing him on the lips and feeling Draco melt just little beneath the gesture.  

“You could say —” he began and then cut off, heart plummeting and sputtering out at what he saw in a far corner. Granger was sitting at a table with some fuckwit from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office - no doubt an apprentice of that Weasley buffoon. Salazar’s balls, he looked like a real dullard. Hermione had to be ten times out of his league.

Draco’s perfect white teeth ground hard enough to make his jaw hurt, and Theo slid his fingers beneath his chin, stroking him twice before cooing, “Easy… no hexing the general public now, Draco. It’s bad for our image. What’s wrong?”

“Look,” he said, jutting his pointy chin at their corner.  

Theo turned, curly hair catching the firelight beautifully. “Granger? Doesn't she look thoroughly bored?” he snickered.  

“You’re not bothered by that? She could do so much better than whoever the fuck that is…”

Theo went still and turned back to survey Draco carefully. “Better…? Like whom, pray tell?”

“She’s got us, hasn't she?” he snarled in a hiss as Theo led him to a table nearby, still within sight of Hermione’s table though, he noted.  

Theo sighed. “Drake, you told her quite explicitly last time the three of us were lounging naked in her bedroom that what we had between us was ‘of no consequence’ to you.”

Draco turned his mercurial eyes to his whisky and glared at it. Idiot. He should never have said anything of the sort.  

Taking a long, slow breath, Theo trailed his fingers across the old, scarred tabletop towards Draco's, and sighed. “You’ve fallen for her, haven't you?”

“Haven’t you?” he rasped.  

Theo snorted. “I told you as much months ago. But if she wanted to keep it casual, that’s on her.”

“I know. I just… I don’t… I can’t… I can’t let her go, Theo. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Of course it does!” Theo countered with unusual vehemence. “She’s incredible, and not just between the sheets, Draco. You know that. You know how I feel about her.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered, taking Theo’s hand and squeezing his fingers. “You know you’re… you’re more than enough for me, right?”  

Softening, Theo smiled. “Likewise, arsehole,” he chuckled, and Draco finally cracked a wry smile. “How long d’you think she’ll last before she realises what an idiot he is?”

“Ten minutes?” Draco winced. “Hopefully. Maybe less?”

In the end it was a mere six minutes before Hermione was ducking out to the ladies’ loos.

“You want to go, or should I?” Theo asked, quirking an eyebrow at his boyfriend across the table.  

“You go. I’ll meet you back at the flat.”  

He nodded and stood, leaving Draco to swill the remnants of his firewhisky down in a burning rush. This was it. He was going to tell her tonight.  

Five minutes later, Theo and Hermione apparated into the flat that Theo and Draco rented in Diagon Alley, lips locked, fingers grabbing at each other’s hips. Granger's hair was already all over the place, no doubt scrunched so deliciously by Theo’s hands, and it made Draco ache all over.  

When Hermione saw Draco, she extended her hand wordlessly to him, still kissing Theo.  

After he’d crossed the room and grabbed her by the hair, crushing a kiss to her lips, she moaned, “I missed you.”  

“I don’t want to let you go,” Draco confessed a heartbeat later as he backed her against the nearest stretch of blank wall and hitched her legs up around his waist. She clung to him like a vice and his cock twitched and swelled. He bit at her neck and sucked a huge, possessive bruise there. “Never. I’m yours. Theo too.”

“I was such an idiot,” she laughed, gasping as the pain tingled away to leave nothing but sparkling pleasure in its wake. “Godric, Draco… Theo… I want you. Please…”

“You have but to ask, love,” Theo said, holding the bedroom door open for Draco as he carried Hermione through and deposited her roughly onto the bed.  

“I should have asked much, much sooner,” she said.  

Anything else she might have said was cut off as Theo joined them and sank down onto the bed beside her.

___

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!

___

writing masterlist | Ao3

[buckysrighthanddoll]

Astraea

Pairing: Peter Parker x Enhanced!Reader

Warnings: some angst, mentions of capture and torture, swearing, hella fluff

They made a twisted Nyx out of his beautiful Astraea. She was once sweet and innocent--all-too-pure for this world and far too connected to people’s emotions. And now? Now, she seemed to be the opposite.

Peter looks at his girl, the one who changed so much, and thinks of how she used to be.

Soft cotton dress. Softer skin. Messy, wind-blown hair and sun-kissed skin. She is the picture of sweet to Peter. His fingers reach out, graze her bare shoulder and trail down her arm until he reaches her fingers, and he laces them together. The beach was perfect, yes, but his girl was even better. He notices the freckles that dot her skin, wants to spend hours laying next to her and count each one, memorize every line and scar and freckle and fuck, he’s in love. He’s so in love.

Soft cotton dress. Even softer kiss. Her lips brush his, the lightness making him feel as though he’s on cloud nine. She smiles against him and she lets out a soft giggle while she lays back and lets the sunlight drench her skin like she’s parched and it’s water.

She’s soft, soft, soft. His beautiful Astraea, with the cute sundresses and messy hair and bare-skin. His beautiful goddess. Too pure for this world.

“Don’t look so spooked, Peter,” She says, tilting her head to the side. This is still (Y/N), but he doesn’t seem to recognize what HYDRA has done to her. She wears skin-tight dark denim jeans over a lacey bodysuit, a cropped leather jacket on her shoulders and four-inch heels adorning her feet. Her hair is pin-straight and one side of it is slicked back with gel. She wears dark, sultry makeup. Black liner. Plum lips. She is no longer his Astraea, but now she is Nyx. A goddess still, but one of the night.

“What did they do to you?” He asks, the words spilling before he can think to stop himself. She throws her head back and laughs, but it isn’t the soft and sweet candy-like laugh she used to have. It’s more like a bark, like a wolf about to attack.

Perhaps why that’s why they had started calling her the Midnight Wolf (although he knows damn well that’s not why).

“Oh, baby, trust me. They did me a favor,” She says, her lip curling in a snarl as she brings her head back down. She stalks toward him, one excruciatingly slow step at a time. Heels clack harshly on the asphalt, her hands going to her pockets casually, her chin tilts up slightly so she looks down on him.

Peter hates this. Not knowing what she’s going to do or what she’ll say. He hated not knowing her anymore. His Astraea was gone and replaced by something much different.

“I can practically smell the fear, baby,” She says, reaching out with her right hand and straightening the collar of his shirt. He swallows thickly. He nearly forgot that she was in-tune with emotions. Sensing them, manipulating them, you name it; she can do it. He wonders what else HYDRA taught her. “A little bit of an angry lust in there, too, but that isn’t important.”

“What did they do to you?” He asked, this time with confidence in his voice. Her face, once relaxed and even slightly playful, quickly twisted in anger as she wrapped her hand around his throat.

“They helped me.” A quick-release, and Peter finds his feet on the ground once more. Hands instinctually go to his neck and he looks to her in surprise, but the look she gives him is unreadable.

And as soon as their little meeting had started, it was over. Tony came up behind her and placed a needle in her neck, and she was thrown over his shoulder.

“Good work, kid. Are you okay?”

Peter can only nod as he walks ahead of his father-figure. It was a set-up. Bait. The Avengers knew that if there was any shred of (Y/N) left in there, she would come back to him.

They held (Y/N) captive at the tower. Figuring it was the safest space to keep her, she stayed in the lab--Tony’s orders. She was covered from head to toe, and when others were in the room, she had to wear a blindfold. They weren’t aware, however, that nobody would be safe from her emotional manipulation.

Peter came to see her just over two weeks later. (Y/N) could tell that it was him from the way he walked--small paces, light, rounded steps, a smooth heel-to-toe that meant he was wearing his normal sneakers rather than the boots that Steve would wear.

She looked vulnerable. Blindfold covered eyes that messed up her once-perfectly-styled hair. Her clothes were her’s from her room in the tower, but they didn’t look like they quite belonged. (Y/N) was always soft, soft, soft.

And now she was rough, rough, rough.

“Nice of you to stop by, baby,” She says, a smile pulling at her lips. Peter could almost mistake it for genuine emotion. Almost. “I missed you.”

Peter sits at the seat positioned next to her door, looking through the wall of glass to see his cotton-y soft girlfriend looking tattered and sewn back together.

“Something tells me you don’t,” He responds, his voice having very little confidence.

“Oh, baby, I really did. Just a shame I can’t see you.”

A wave of guilt passes through him, and Peter can’t tell if it’s from him or her. He furrows his eyebrows but stands to look at the look on the door. “FRIDAY, open her door,” Peter orders. (Y/N) smiles and moves to stand up, waiting for her love at the door.

Yeah, that’s all he was. Just Peter. The love of her former life. That’s all he is, that’s all he is, that’s all--

“Mr. Parker, with all due respect, I don’t think--”

“FRIDAY, please, open (Y/N)’s door,” He interjects. “I just need to see her.”

There is a hesitancy in the AI’s actions, but she does it. It glides open smoothly and Peter steps in. He reaches for her blindfold and pushes it up, and for a fleeting moment, his sweet Astraea is back. She looks up at him and smiles, and it actually reaches her eyes, and he feels like whatever Tony did to her had to have worked, because that other woman was gone. Now it was just (Y/N), his sweet and soft girl.

“Baby, I can’t touch you,” She says. And there it was. The subtle glint of manipulation in her eyes that contradicted her entire chocolatey-sweet demeanor. “Don’t you want to hold me?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” He says, looking deep into her eyes as he slowly reaches around to break her bindings. She stands on her tip-toes and gives him a soft kiss, but it isn’t sweet by any means. He knows her intentions in that kiss, and he thinks of every time they had done the things that she was implying.

It’s easy to undo the cloth that held her wrists together. His hands fall to her waist, and she grabs him by the collar to pull him closer. It’s firey hot and he doesn’t need to have her abilities to feel nothing but love and lust for the woman in front of him.

He is wrapped around her finger and he knows that. And, to be fair, it’s reciprocated when she’s her normal self. But right now, all he wants to do is fall to his knees and worship his goddess. He wants to decorate her altar with his lips, his fingers, whatever he can use. He wants to pray to her, have her name spill from his lips, taste the honey name on his tongue.

Astraea. Astraea. Astraea.

She moves her lips to his neck as her hands go to unbutton his shirt. Her body grinds against his and he groans, hands traveling down to her hips and grabbing tightly.

“See, baby? Isn’t this nice?” She finally opens the shirt, so she runs her hands down his stomach.

Peter knows he needs to stop. He knows this is wrong, that she’s just manipulating him to let her free, but he doesn’t know how to stop--doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to. She fogs his mind, makes him all dizzy and lightheaded and he suddenly can’t walk anymore. Everything is her.

Nyx. Nyx. Nyx.

There has to be some clarity in this. Some way to see through the fog and get away from this woman who isn’t actually the one he loves. He thinks back to the first time they had even kissed. The one kissing him and making him feel these things.

Her hair was splayed across the pillow, eyes gently shut and worries anywhere but here. A peaceful day with her peaceful boyfriend, and she had begun to fall asleep on him. He looks down at his sweet girl, sees how beautiful she is, and smiles. A thumb far larger than her own swipes at her face slightly, attempting to memorize all there was to memorize.

Feathery soft lips pressed to her cheek. “You are such an angel,” He whispers, soft words disappearing into her soft skin.

“Hm, you should tell me that when you think I’m awake,” She says as he leans back, smiling up at him. Her eyes flutter open as she trails her hand to the back of his neck. He stops in place, breath hitching, eyes flicking between her eyes and her lips, and she pulls him back down to her. His daydreams about this exact moment were only beat by the real deal. She was soft and gentle, but she took what she wanted and he was more than happy to give it to her.

With a stern shove, Peter knocks (Y/N) off of him. “This isn’t you,” He said. He walked out the door, watching as she ran to it as it quickly closed behind him.

“Baby, yes it is,” She whined, watching as Peter buttoned his shirt back up. From the outside, yes, it was most certainly his beautiful Astraea. But he knew better than that.

“Peter, are you okay?” Tony asked as he ran in. “Let’s go,” He adds, seeing that (Y/N) didn’t have her bindings or blindfold on.

She watched with an angry expression as they left, fists balled at her sides.

Of course, Tony asked Peter what had happened. And he told him everything. They both realized that she had gotten much stronger since she was taken last year. A last-minute call was made to T’Challa, and his family had agreed to take her in and try their best to get her back. It wasn’t a Winter Soldier project by any means, but Shuri was a genius and the team hoped she could help.

And she did. It took 24 days and 16 hours to get the call, but once they did, Tony got on a quinjet and went to get her from Wakanda. Peter waited in her bedroom while Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Bruce sat in the communal area.

She returns quickly with that same honey-like sweetness and finds Peter first.

“Baby?” She asks as the door slides shut behind her. She can feel his anxiety and fear, which nearly overpowers the love that he feels. She pulls her cardigan shut tighter, not quite knowing how to handle this situation. “Are you okay?” She adds as she steps toward him, steps soft and quiet.

“It’s you, right?” Peter asks. When she smiles and nods, he pulls her into him and holds her there. She feels nothing but relief and the same love from before. “You’ve been gone so long.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” She says. She didn’t want to think about it. A year away with HYDRA, five months on the run, and a month in Wakanda. She hadn’t been herself in a very long time, and she was ashamed of it. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, (Y/N),” Peter says, pulling back to cup her face in his hands. She leans into the touch, commits the feeling to memory, embraces the safety that she has when she’s with him. “It was HYDRA. You didn’t have a say in it.” She nods her head and wills away her tears. There was still a lingering fear that they were watching her and that she would be seen as weak. “What do you say we go watch a movie with the rest of the team?”

A soft smile makes its way onto her lips, and he smiles because of it. “That sounds perfect, baby.”

[aaronhart93-archive]

discord text/facetime call || aaroman

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and & @romanbeckett

When: August 26th, 2020 - August 27, 2020

Mentions: @alison-haynes @luca-regio

Description: Roman and Aaron talk about Alison’s conversations with both Aaron and Roman

TW: aaron may or may not call alison a bitch, crying, angry!aaron

Roman.

Does Ali not want Des staying the night with me I guess?

And I love you too

Aaron.

sigh

I don’t know what her deal is

I think she’s been having issues with luca and she’s just being irrational

I’ll text her

Roman.

No it's fine

Aaron.

it’s not

Roman.

It is. If that's what she wants, then that's fine.

Aaron.

it’s not what I want. And she’s 50% me so

she doesn’t get the final say

Roman.

I don't want to cause any issues

She said I can see her a few hours

Aaron.

you’re not causing any issues

Roman.

Just let it be, it's okay. Ali has enough stress going on, we all do. I don't want to upset her

Aaron.

no. It’s fine.

Roman.

bleh

Aaron.

she’s fine. Just being dramatic. Don’t worry about it

Roman.

okay

Aaron.

just um

I may have told her that we got back together right away

just got with it

Roman.

Okay

Aaron.

Alison is blaming me for all of her relationship problems with Luca

Roman.

Of course she is

Aaron.

she’s being so damn petty

I’m in rehab and she’s picking a fight

Roman.

I wish I knew how to help

Aaron.

we’re just going around in circles and I don’t know what to do

I’m honestly so hurt

today sucked. This is the last thing I need

Roman.

I shouldn't have said anything I'm so sorry

Aaron.

it needed to be said anyway

I just don’t know what to do

I’m so pissed of

Roman.

Don't worry about it. I'm just going to back off, and I'll see you Sunday.

Aaron.

Roman

no

I want to see you and Des on her birthday

Roman.

are you sure?

Ugh. Not how I wanted to end my trip. But anyway.

I have to be on at the airport in a couple hours.

Roman.

I love you, but I’ve talked with Alison, and I’m not going to come up Friday. Out of respect for her, and her being uncomfortable, I’m going to step back a bit.

Aaron.

wait

what

WHAT DID SHE SAY

Roman.

she just told me how she’s feeling and I understand. I came on too strong and I’m not Des’ parent. I shouldn’t be acting like I am.

Aaron.

oh my god

what the fuck

oh my god I’m so mad

Roman. Are you okay

Roman.

don’t be mad. She didn’t say those words directly like that, it’s just my perspective.

it’s okay.

Aaron.

what exactly did she say

im sure her words were a lot harsher

Roman.

she’s just scared of losing you both

she needs time to process all this change.

Aaron.

wtf is that supposed to mean

Roman.

I feel weird sharing exactly what she said

Aaron.

she's the one dating a fucking criminal

im so livid

Roman.

just don’t tell her I’m sending this

“Roman: “I know you love Des, and I appreciate everything you do for her. But at the end of the day, Aaron and I will always be her parents. And maybe one day, maybe you will end up being her step parent, but none of us can see the future. So we don’t know if that is what will happen. But right now, you’re not her parent. For a long time, it has always been Aaron, Des and I. That’s it. And things are changing really fast. I mean now there is you and Luca and the baby. I can only handle so many changes at once. And right now, I’m not ready for Destiny to have a “third parent”. I really do appreciate you and all you do for her, and she adores you. I’m sorry, I probably sound like the biggest asshole in the book right now. But half the time I already feel like I’m losing Aaron, I can’t lose Des too.”

Aaron.

oh my god

she did not say that to you

Roman.

it’s fine Aaron

Aaron.

it's far from fine

Roman.

I’ll just see you Sunday, and then come visit one day next week.

Aaron.

Roman,

im so upset i cant even tell you

Roman.

don’t be upset okay? Just focus on what you’re doing there, and it’ll all be okay. I’m fine. It’s okay.

I got ahead of myself because I love des so much.

Aaron.

you're not ahead, Ali is behind

Roman.

but she’s right, I’m not her parent. Maybe one day I will be, but I’m not right now.

Aaron.

but you love her like one

Roman.

I do, and that won’t change.

I can wait.

Aaron.

im so upset roman i cant even tell you

im so sorry

this is all my fault

Roman.

no it’s not

I knew Alison was uncomfortable with me being so involved from the beginning, and I did it anyway

Aaron.

bc it's irrational as fuck

Roman.

Aaron it’s not. I mean, maybe I feel a little bad that she feels this way about me, and not Luca, but she doesn’t know me as well as she wants to yet. Idk, I’m trying to understand here. I just don’t want you two to fight over me.

Aaron.

that's what im saying. she's being such a fucking hypocrite

Luca's a fucking criminal

and he gets to spend the whole day with my daughter

she thinks because she's having his baby that that someone invalidates that we've actually been together more than luca and alison have

Roman.

she must see something in him we haven’t been able to yet.

Aaron.

fuck that.

she's being such a bitch

Roman.

don’t say that

Aaron.

am i wrong

Roman.

I don’t think she has ill intentions here. She’s just a little blinded right now.

Aaron.

she's so stubborn

she always thinks she right

im so damn sick of it, i've let it slide for so many years

and i know she thinks she's a better parent than me

Roman.

Aaron no she doesn’t, come on.

Aaron.

she’d never admit it but she does

look at her now. Thinking she knows what’s best for Des and not taking what I have to say into consideration

Roman.

she’s just upset right now, maybe she’ll be thinking clearer tomorrow.

Aaron.

if I wasnt locked you this wouldn’t be flying

* up

Roman.

it’s okay.

Aaron.

it’s literally not

Roman.

listen to me. I need you to breathe. Relax for a minute. I’m okay, we’re okay. Everything is okay, and will continue to be okay.

Aaron.

I know you are more upset than you’re letting on

Roman.

I’m upset, but it is what it is right now. Im on my way to the airport and I can’t let myself get too worked up about it at the moment. I just have faith it’ll all work out.

Aaron.

Roman.

I just

I don’t know

I don’t want to get you any more upset before getting on your flight

Roman.

why? Did something else happen?August 27, 2020

Aaron.

no I just still want to go off about this

bc it’s bullshit but I’ll stop

for now

Roman.

Aaron nothing is going to get solved with anger though

Aaron.

not now

Roman.

what?

Aaron.

if I were in New York this would be different

Roman.

maybe it’s good that you’re not. Everyone needs to calm down.

Aaron.

I feel like I can’t breathe

Roman.

Aaron.

Facetime calls Aaron and waits for him to pick up while sitting outside the airport

Aaron.

answers “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Roman.

“I needed to see you to determine that for myself.” blinks, and then takes in a ragged breath while running a hand over his face

Aaron.

clears his throat and wipes his puffy eyes, takes a deep breath “I’m fine.”

Roman.

“You’re clearly not fine. Babe...” looks over the screen, and sighs “You’ve been crying. Please don’t cry...it’s going to be okay. I promise you.”

Aaron.

just tries not to break down in front of Roman because he knows he’s having a hard time with this news. Takes a deep breath “This is so fucked.”

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

“Baby.” looks over screen with concerned expression, wishing more than anything he wasn’t so far away. “Aaron. Listen to me. Alison is going through a lot of stress, she will come around. What’s important right now is that you focus on your recovery, and I will take care of the rest. Alison and I will work this out. You two are too sensitive right now to come to an intelligent conclusion right now. And then on down the line, everything will work itself out between you two as well, between all of us.”

Aaron.

“I’m just...” aaron hangs his head and covers his face with his free hand, taking slow, shaky breaths “I can’t lose either of you. Oh my god...” he attempts to steady his breath again “I know the intelligent conclusion. She’s being irrational.”

Roman.

if Roman could climb through the screen right now, he would. “Aaron, you’re not going to lose anyone. Ali isn’t going anywhere, and neither am I. We’re all going to work on this together. look at me.” he tilts his head, and sucks both lips into his mouth, trying not to cry. “Everyone gets irrational sometimes. Ali is a good person, and she’s not dumb. She’ll come around, and we’ll find a solution that works for everyone.”

Aaron.

takes a deep breath in another attempt to steady his shaky breath. He sniffles, rubs his eyes then Finally looks back at camera at his man “Okay”. he looks at Ro and prays he doesn’t start crying “I just don’t know...and Roman told was just awful. I haven’t been this depressed since my dad died. It’s so hard here. And I want a drink so damn bad. And Ali just... unable to hide his tears, he lets a few tears fall “made this so much worse.”

Roman.

looks worried, eyes darting back and forth as he tries to think of how to fix this situation. “Do I need to come get you? Is there anyone you can talk to right now?”

Aaron.

puts his head between his knees and lets out a few more sobs, looks back up into the camera yeah — I...no you don’t have to come get me... not yeah. But yeah...I can go outside and talk with a counselor now.” he looks towards the door

Roman.

nods, and tries to keep himself together just like he had all night, knowing what Aaron really needed right now was stability. “Okay baby. Go talk to a counselor, and then text me. I don’t board for another couple hours. Okay? I love you.”

Aaron.

sighs, thinks about how grateful he is for Roman “thank you. I love you, too. I’ll text you when I’m done. I’m sorry.”

August 27 - 2am EST

Roman.

hope you’re okay. I’m boarding my plane.

Aaron.

yeah

she talked to me for a while hour

Roman.

are you feeling any better?

Aaron.

a little

I’m just exhausted now

have a safe flight babe.

Roman.

okay. I’ll let you get some rest then.

Aaron.

I hope you sleep on the plane

are you okay

Roman.

as long as you are.

Aaron.

I’m not. But I’m fine for now.

Roman.

okay

well try and get some sleep then.

I love you.

Aaron.

I love you

[carbonitekisses]

I’ll Be Coming For Your Love, Okay? (final chapter)

[AN: After season eight I, like many others haha, had massive writer’s block. It’s been a while since I posted (both on AO3 and tumblr). Anyways, I started this story before I had a tumblr so the last chapter of this fic is the only one on here. If a reincarnation/time travel-esque AU interests you, you can read the other five chapters on AO3 :)]

Chapter summary: Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne at the reception desk but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief.

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.  

She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light.

Also on AO3

//

Bliss, he thinks, this is pure bliss. Her lips upon my lips, her breath mixing with mine. What need do I have for food or water when she is here? When she kisses me like she remembers?

“Let me never wake.”

“You’re not dreaming, love,” Sansa murmurs, and Jon opens his eyes to something he had resigned himself to never again see on her face. Recognition. Love. Joy.

Could it be true or will he wake to find her gone, her side of the bed empty and cold like it has been for the past year? Jon knows he wouldn't be able to survive if she were to leave him again. One time was one time too many. Each day had been filled with duty and routine until Ghost dragged him to the heart tree two days ago. The world seemed to right itself when he saw her laying on the grass before the heart tree. For the first time in a year Jon felt whole again. 

“Are you,” Jon tries to swallow past the hope that chokes him, “are you here? Are you here, back with me?” His hands slowly, shaking, reach to hold her face. “Have you come back to me, dear heart?”

”Yes, yes, yes.” With each affirmation she brings herself closer to him, lifting her dress until she’s able to straddle his thighs. His hands carefully wander to rest on her waist. It's a pleasure like no other to simply have her familiar weight atop him. “I was here—I was always here. It was strange. I felt trapped within what I knew to be my own body. And after the vision with the blinding light, somehow, the other presence was gone. And it was only me.

“I don’t know how I am alive, how I am home. All I know—” She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, kissing the scarred fingertips “—is that I am grateful to be with you once more. It's a blessing, it must be.” His hand remains encased in her soft grasp, resting in the space between them. “After all we have lost the gods owe us this much.”

Her gratitude reminds Jon that it is because of him that she ever left the world of the living. It was my own hands that killed her, he pulls his hand away from hers in self-disgust, I killed her.  

"If I hadn't plunged Longclaw through your heart... Forgive me, love." Jon shakes his head in anger. He is greedy asking for forgiveness. He is selfish. "Forgive me, forgive me—"

Sansa cuts him off. "No more. You don't need my forgiveness, Jon. If you hadn’t killed me the world of the living would have ceased to exist. Our family and our people would have fallen."

Jon is inclined to disagree. It must show on his face that he is more than willing to argue because Sansa pulls his face to hers and kisses him wildly, leaving him no air with which to voice his disagreement.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Jon," she repeats once more. Her fingers nimbly unclasp the cloak she made for him so many moons ago. They pause and wander to the jerkin where grey fabric peeks out from underneath. A watery sob leaves her as she takes out the favor she had made for him before he left for war. It is almost weightless, so thin and worn it has become. The direwolves and winter roses haven't lost their color and Sansa looks at it in awe. "You kept it... after all this time."

"Everyday. Not once could I bear to keep it anywhere else but near my heart."

And it's true. The square piece of fabric, lovingly stitched with Sansa's own hand, had been a poor replacement of his wife. Nevertheless, it gave him hope. Hope that perhaps the red priestess was right. That some day Sansa would return to him. 

And now she's here in his arms.

Warm. Safe. Alive.

He brings his forehead against hers. Shares the air with her. He has been relieved of an emotional weight he has carried ever since he saw her blood paint the snow. "Never leave me again." He kisses her, drowns in the mere fact that she is here. Here, here, here. The next word comes out strangled and heavy. "Please."

Strong, kind, lovely Sansa Stark presses her smiling lips to the corner of his own. "I love you. As long as you love me—"

"Always." In life and in death. In whatever exists in between and beyond.

"Always is a long time."

"Always is not long enough. Not for us."

The truth. A spark. Firelight catches and dances in her hair. Sansa launches forward and takes him. He gives himself willingly. She undoes the lacing of his jerkin while her hips begin to move in a rhythm that leaves Jon completely in surrender. Any and all thoughts of books, visions, and gods of light flee into the night. “Always,” she whispers, she prays. His love, his wife, dips her head to kiss slightly underneath his jawline, whispering a request along her trail of kisses. He hardens underneath her touch. It's been so long, so very long. 

“I’ve missed you, husband. I only ask you to love me... Love me, Jon.”

And so he does.

// 

Sansa's eyelids refuse to lift under the weight of sleep. The last vestiges of a dream cling to her memory. Cold, cold snow... a fire... a man... a name. J-Jo—hmm. Joe? Jonas? Joseph? Her motor skills finally succeed in opening her eyes to the world. It definitely started with a “J”. Joel? I definitely wasn't dreaming about Joffrey. I'm sure of that, at least.  

The muscles in her neck strain and her bones creak in protest as she makes to stand up from the couch. Disoriented. That's how she is feeling. Unbalanced, too, if her trembling knees are anything to go by. Last night...what happened last night? If it were the weekend she would chalk it up to a hangover but it's Friday morning and she didn't go out last night. 

Sansa picks up a book from off the floor. She turns it around to look at the cover. A man and a woman are embracing underneath a heart tree. She vaguely remembers the book. it feels different... even if I can't remember much of it right now. Did she fall asleep trying to read this? Sansa quickly thumbs through ink-filled pages, trying to recollect something, anything, about it. 

"Where did—Oh!" Sansa recoils as her mind registers the time being displayed on her watch. She woke up later than usual, having seemingly forgotten to turn on her alarm last night. An hour. She has an hour to shower, change, and get to work. Pressed for time, she puts the book back into its manila envelope and then into her work bag along with her reading glasses.

She'll work out the mystery book once she gets to her office.

Without wasting any more time Sansa absentmindedly starts her favorite playlist on Spotify. Mornings are better with music.

Take on Me by a-ha starts to play.

Sansa groans.

Here we go again.

// 

The morning sun melts the small crumbs of her dream into oblivion until Sansa forgets that she even dreamed at all. 

Things are looking up for Sansa Stark after such a rough morning. And if the air feels cleaner, or time itself feels fresher... Well, Sansa won’t be the one to complain. Although, the time constraint did mean she was unable to make herself her usual cup of coffee. That's one thing I will allow myself to complain about.

Still, good-naturedly, Sansa steps into the brownstone building that is Grand Maester Publishing. It feels good to be here—on time!—as she greets the coworkers she passes with a smile and a hello. The elevator ride to the third floor is full of pleasant chatter with Willas, a fellow editor who just learned that a book he worked on will soon be turned into a feature film.

"How exciting!" The elevator door dings open and they step out and into the lobby. "I'm assuming there will be a reissue with cover art relevant to the film?"

"Most likely; I actually have a meeting today with the author." He checks his watch. Behind him, Sansa sees that Jeyne isn't alone at the reception desk. Though she can only see his back she can tell the man is stressed and agitated. Willas speaks and she looks back at him. "I'll let you know how it goes later, yeah?"

"Please do."

Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief. 

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.  

She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light. 

She swallows and tears her eyes away from the man and looks at her friend instead. "Hi, Jeyne. Do you need me?"

Seven save me. I know I'm a romantic but fuck I'm being overdramatic. Goosebumps litter her skin. He's not even that good looking. She tries to discreetly look at him once more. She fails; he was already looking at her. Okay, that's a lie. He's handsome. Beautiful, even. But still. Keep it in your pants, Sansa Stark. Sansa flushes and hopes that whatever Jeyne needs her for is resolved quickly.

Jeyne looks apologetically at the stranger. She gets right to the point. "Sansa, do you have the manila envelope that I dropped off at your office yesterday?"

Oh, so she was the one who delivered this to my office. Well, that's one mystery solved.

"Yes, it's in my bag." She takes it out and keeps a firm grip on it; an oddly possessive feeling washes over her. The man beside her slumps in, what she can only describe as, relief when he sees the envelope. Confused by his reaction she asks Jeyne, "Why?"

The grey-eyed man answers instead, speaking for the first time. His voice reminds her of smoke and dark chocolate. "That envelope, it's mine."

Sansa stands there dumbly, speechless. Wait. What?

"I am so sorry for the mixup." Jeyne's hands are twining and twisting around each other. Her friend and coworker is such a gentle and caring person. She loathes causing problems or inconveniences for others. "I thought the envelope was addressed to Sansa. It was an honest mistake, I swear."

Apparently her distress is evident enough that even the owner of the book notices. His face softens, the stress that furrowed his brow dissipates, and he offers Jeyne an awkward, comforting smile, "I'm sorry for worrying you so much." He turns to look at Sansa. "Honestly, it's my fault. If I hadn't been in such a hurry and written Sam's name more legibly this wouldn't have happened."

At this remark, Sansa looks down at the scrawl on the envelope. Hm. Everything after the S is messy. If she scrutinizes the writing she can kind of make out the name. "Sam Tarly? The literary agent? That's who this was meant for?"

"The one and only," he says with a grin that speaks of pride. "I'm to meet with him later to discuss the book."

The book isn't hers. It wasn't meant for her. She has no right to it. And still, it feels wrong to let it go. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But return it she must. 

Just then a woman comes up to the receptionist's desk, and Jeyne whispers an apology before turning away from them to attend to the woman. She and the man with the handsome voice move away to let Jeyne work. 

Her arm is stiff as she finally hands over the book to its rightful owner. 

Their fingers touch briefly and Sansa nearly drops the envelope. Ridiculous. Utterly RIDICULOUS. Be cool, woman! He doesn't seem to notice but the genuinely happy smile he grants her throws her into a tizzy again. Who does this man think he is, affecting her in such a way?

"I'm being all sorts of rude today, I never even introduced myself." He holds out a hand. It hangs, waiting in the space between them. "I'm Jon Snow."

Cautiously, she places her hand in his. She knows it's ludicrous but if she had to describe his touch she would describe it as warm, safe, and alive.

"Nice to meet you, Jon Snow." His name tastes sweet and rich. "I'm Sansa Stark."

He smiles again, "Sansa Stark." She thinks he makes her name sound sweet and rich, too. "A pretty name." He grimaces and his ears turn red. "I didn't mean—uh, I'm sorry. It is a nice name. I just—" He's flustered and it's a new side to him she hasn't seen yet. It's endearing, really. He may look broody and mysterious but it's almost comforting to know this stranger, Jon, can be just as awkward as she is.

She can feel herself blushing but pays it no mind. It's a compliment no one has given her before but Sansa likes it. Her name, an old family name, is pretty and it's time someone said so. The corners of her lips upturn into a pleased smile. "Thank you, Jon Snow."

They stand there for a moment just smiling at each other.

There's something here and maybe it is a bit ridiculous to fancy a connection between them but Sansa feels brave. 

What if he's not interested in me in that way? What if he already has a girlfriend? What if— No. I'm done with what-ifs. Put on your big girl pants, Sansa. You have to put yourself out there if you want something in life. And if he's already in a relationship, well, one can never have too many friends.

Sansa shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "You said you had a meeting with Sam?"

He clears his throat and promptly answers, "Aye, some time around one. He's not coming in to work until after lunch hours."

"I know this is quite sudden but would you be free to discuss the book with me beforehand? My schedule is clear today and I'm just really interested in the book and would like to learn more about it. I didn't get a chance to read it last night but there's just something about the book itself that really spoke to me." I'm rambling. Sansa cringes internally. It's true that I'm curious about the novel but out of all the times to word vomit...  "You don't have to if you don't want to!" 

Jon looks surprised at her request. In the couple seconds it takes him to respond Sansa wishes the ground would swallow her whole. It only gets worse when she notices that Jeyne has been supervising their interaction with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

Surprised he might have been but he answers her with a grin that wrinkles the corner of his grey eyes. "I'd love to."

//

Jon didn't expect his Friday morning to be like this. Especially not after the anxiety and worry he had felt last night. Nonetheless, he increasingly finds himself grateful for whatever choices or divine power led him here. Here with the increasingly wonderful Sansa Stark.

They've been talking for hours.

She's an editor and has been working with the publishing house for almost five years. Yes, she's from that Stark family but she's not pretentious or snobby at all. That isn't to say that her impeccable manners and obvious upperclass rearing don't intimidate him, if just a little. He's not unaware of the ways of the great houses of Westeros (he may be a bastard but he's a Targaryen bastard) and he can tell there is genuine warmth and interest when she speaks to him.

"I still can't believe you found this at an estate sale and you were practically gifted it by the owner," Sansa's voice is a near whisper and filled with incredulity.

Incredulity has been a latent feeling during their conversation and it all began when they read two names within the book.

They had started off sitting opposite each other at her desk but had quickly transferred to the moderately sized loveseat in her office. It was easier to look over and study the book together this way. It was also easier for Jon to talk to and infatuate himself with the smart redhead sitting next to him.

They're currently reading the last legible section in the book. The writer's husband seems to be on his deathbed and she writes about how she feels her soul will not wait long to be reunited with him once more. Jon has read the book before but he feels as if he is truly reading it for the first time with Sansa, at moments, reading it aloud. He also can't shake the strange feeling that perhaps he had never actually read the book. But that would be unfathomable. Why would he not read a book with words in it?

"Neither can I. If I'm not mistaken this could have been written centuries ago." It's a theory that he has no way to prove (yet) but is uncharacteristically confident in. Sam's expertise will be immeasurable and doubt-breaking. Sansa hands the book back to him, slowly and gently. "Sam's the expert on historical writings so hopefully he'll help me understand just who wrote this. When he worked at the history museum with me he was the one to go to about these sorts of things," Jon fondly remembers how his friend's work docket never seemed to empty. "Even though there were more than ten people in his department."

"I've worked with Sam before—he always finds amazing stories and authors—I'm sure you couldn't find anyone better to help you figure this out." She pauses and uncrosses her legs. "Now, I'm no historian but I am an editor and..." Her eyes land on the book currently being held in his hands. "I think this might be semi-autobiographical. Maybe, quite possibly, written as a diary or a journal. The tone and style is extremely intimate." She hesitates before speaking again and he notices vulnerability bleed into her voice. "The sections that are still legible remind me of how I write in my own."

Years of being extremely socially self-conscious helped him notice how quickly Sansa seemed to regret voicing a personal detail. If he hadn't been looking at her so attentively (she has gorgeous eyes) he wouldn't have noticed it, so adept was she in calming her features. Not wanting to make her feel that her implied trust was misplaced he hummed in gratitude for her professional and personal input. "Huh, that is actually very helpful. It would explain why there seems to be such a lack of details. If this were a diary, written for personal use, it stands to reason the writer wouldn't need to explain things like a commercial writer would." Sansa shows teeth when she smiles. Really smiles. It's warm. He likes it. "Although, it is a bit odd don't you think?"

Coincidence. The word is too small. A word with bigger significance is in order. Fabricated? No, sounds too cold. The editor, with sensibly attractive black heels, blushes and opens her mouth to speak but seems to be in the same predicament as him. Preordained? Now that... sounds almost like destiny. Almost too big.

A crisp, bitingly endearing laugh. "I wasn't sure whether to mention it." It is something Jon has noticed about Sansa. She does not seem to like causing discomfort—be it real or imagined. It is easy to think everyone has this trait. However, Jon's experience with people from all walks of life has proven that to not be the case.  "But yes, it's odd. Maybe weird?" She says this like a question they both know the answer to. They do. And Jon laughs. "Okay, definitely weird. I mean, what are the chances that there is both a Sansa and a Jon in the book?"

Almost.

It's probably the strangeness of the situation that made them avoid call the writer by her name. Or to call the husband by his. Because if Jon's theory, and Sansa's hunch, are proven right then that means there existed a Sansa and Jon before them. A Sansa and Jon whose love and life filled countless pages with words handwritten by a woman who thought them worthy of ink and time. Though many of the words have faded or been damaged they still tug at his heart. And Jon would bet it does the same for Sansa. 

I feel bubbly, Jon thinks. Bubbly like the feeling of a fizzy drink in his mouth. Like an adventure about to start. Like a newly discovered military artifact that he can't wait to analyze and date. To be frank, Jon has never described anything as bubbly. Yet something about Sansa makes him think it the most appropriate. As a true pessimist, doubt and caution in the name of self-preservation make him lean back a bit from her. He hadn't noticed how close they had gotten. Way to over-exaggerate a moment, bud. She could be in a relationship for all I know.

His pocket vibrates. Sansa had pulled away as well and briefly glances down to the source of the noise. "I take it that's Sam?"

"Probably." Jon pulls his phone out. "Aye, it's him. Says he just arrived at his office."

It's time for him to leave. Sam is here in the building and he should leave before he gets too invested in what could only stay as a pleasant meeting between strangers.

He gets up and picks up his jacket. The book weighs heavy in his hand. 

Sansa stands up and smooths down her skirt as she does so. He hadn't noticed but the skirt has pockets that she now puts her hands into. "Tell him I say hello. It's been a while since we bumped into each other." She tucks her hair behind her earring studded ear. "Feel free to let me know what ends up happening with the book."

Is this...hm. If Jon weren't so jaded by the punches of life he would interpret this as an opening to ask for her number. He wants to but a pit of fear gurgles inside him. Rejection. Better to keep my heart safe. Sansa seems like the kind of woman that would ruin him for any other. In all the best worst ways possible.

"Will do." I won't. "It was a true pleasure meeting and spending time with you, Sansa Stark." Was that too formal? Yeah, it was. Goddammit.

"The pleasure was all mine, Jon Snow."

They shake hands one last time and Jon leaves.

//

Shit.

//

He immediately walks right back into the warmth of her sunlit office. 

It's worth taking a risk. A little bit of optimism never hurt anyone. Sansa hadn't moved but her head snaps up at the sound of his entrance. She's surprised and he's clearly caught her unaware. Her lips part and she takes a step back, bumping into the armrest of the loveseat. Okay, too late to back out now. 

"I just realized we didn't exchange business cards." He tries to act cool but is hindered by the struggle of digging through his wallet for a card. "Here, it has both my cell and work numbers. And email." She can read, idiot. Way to point out the obvious. 

Sansa takes it. She studies it for a bit and Jon knows he visibly relaxes when she meets his eyes with a smile. She turns on her heels and grabs her own card from a clear business card holder sitting on the edge of her desk. 

"Here. Mine also has both my cell and work numbers." Her eyes are glittering with what he can confidently describe as mischief. "And email."

The card design is elegant and sleek. And sure enough her cell number is on there.

"Thanks. I'll.. text you, after I meet with Sam." Might as well go all the way. "Or if you're free after work we could go get coffee? A drink? Let you know what Sam could figure out."

"I'd like that!" She uncrosses her arms and stands leans her weight to the left. "And, yes, I'm free tonight."

"Well, guess I'll see you later, Sansa Stark."

"Sansa." She rolls her eyes, minutely, in good humor. "Just Sansa."

"I'll see you later, Sansa."

"See you later, Jon."

Jon waves at her and leaves; he's kept Sam waiting long enough. He's practically jogging to Sam's office. People are moving out of the way and giving him odd looks. It's probably because he's grinning so wide he must look manic. Jon doesn't know what the future may bring but he knows that Sansa is someone worth knowing and learning more of. Simply stated, he likes her. Something about her calls out to him. It's beyond physical attraction. It's... it's something he caught glimpses of when she smiled, when she fidgeted with the ring on her middle finger, when her hair reflected the sunlight coming in from her large office window.

Jon doesn't even have both feet in Sam's office before his friend says, "What happened? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing." It's an obvious lie. His lips stretch more and it hurts. But he can't stop smiling. "Ready to solve this mystery?"

[theonewiththefanfics]

I’ll Keep You Safe (Part 1)

Synopsys: Bodyguard! Bucky; Endgame AU

When Tony Stark asked Bucky to become a bodyguard for the Reader he didn’t think his life would change that much. But it did. And not everything was for the better. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: angst, lil bit of floof

Warnings: mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general sadness 

Word count: 2160

Bucky’s heart had broken almost two weeks ago, and he couldn't really blame anyone but himself. Yet at that moment, when their eyes locked, it shattered.        “James,” Y/N whispered his name, Y/E/C eyes filled with confusion and fear as she looked down at her body where a stream of scarlet coloured her white tank top before crumbling to the ground. His name was a mantra she kept repeating, it was the only thing that existed in her mind. James, James, James, James, James it repeated, but there was no question or statement for him to answer. She just kept thinking of her James with his cerulean orbs, his soft lips and gentle touch. It was the last thing she saw and felt before darkness consumed everything.        Things were not supposed to go the way they had. For fuck’s sake, the reason Bucky even knew her, had her in his life was because he’d been hired as her bodyguard. He was meant to keep her safe and out of harm’s way, yet here he was, looking down at Y/N, cradling her face between his palms and begging for her to open her eyes, to keep breathing. To not give up on him.

       Red stained the floor all around them and soaked his pants and her clothes to the bone. He could feel the warmth of the blood as he removed one hand from her cheek and pressed down on the bullet hole. Bucky never wanted to hurt her, in any way possible, but this time he prayed to every god known for a painful yelp to escape Y/N’s mouth. That would tell him she was conscious and aware. But her head just lolled to the side, body lax like a ragdoll.        “Come on, sweetheart,” he grunted, putting his metal hand over his flesh one to add more pressure. “Come on!”        There had been only a few times in Bucky’s life when he had cried. At Steve’s mother’s funeral, when he had been drafted into the army, the first time Hydra started to experiment on him and he called for the help of his best friend, when he had broken out from the years of torture and rediscovered who he was and now, and now watching the woman who he had irrevocably fallen in love with bleeding out onto the floor. And he couldn’t do anything about it.       “I’m so sorry, doll, I’m so, so sorry,” he choked on the sob that ripped his chest apart while applying more pressure to the wound. But the blood still spilled out. “I know I messed up, I screwed up a lot of things, and I don’t care if you hate me, I don’t care if this is my punishment, just don’t die. Please don’t die. Do whatever you have to - to get rid of me from your life but think about Tony. He’ll miss you, fuck, doll, he loves you so much. Think about Pep and Morgan. About Peter. Don’t give up on them… come on, doll. They need you…” and as much as Bucky was trying to be selfless, he was a selfish person. “I need you, doll. I need you, sunflower.”        All the shitty things that had happened between the two came crashing down like wildfire during a drought. Every mistake, every harsh word, ate at him from the inside out until there was nothing left. Because no matter how many wonderful moments they’d spent together, no matter the amount of happiness they’d given to one another, when the one who he had thought he’d spend his life with, if he was able to right all the wrongs, was dying in his arms, the good bits were worth nothing.        “Mister Barnes, Tony and the medics are here,” FRIDAY’s sudden announcement tore Bucky out of his thoughts.        “Move, Barnes,” Tony’s voice was stern and taut with suppressed anger. Bucky just shook his head. He couldn’t. If he let go of Y/N, she’d die. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t be the cause of more grief than he already was.        “I said move, so the doctors can help!”        But when Bucky, didn’t so much as shift, an arm made of metal grabbed at him and pulled him away. That shocked him because Tony was in his full-on Iron Man, meaning he'd flown back from the mission just to deal with this, as the medics gathered around Y/N.        He tried to rip out of Tony’s hold, but it was like his body didn’t want to. He was so drained, so weak that he just remained like that – with Iron Man’s arms tightly holding onto his biceps, as the paramedics kneeled down next to Y/N, one of them putting a mask over her nose and mouth to pump air into her lungs, another one doing chest compressions, while someone else went to look at the dead man a few feet away. He wouldn't need resuscitating, that Bucky made sure of. The bullet in his head was enough of a sign.        It had been probably the most satisfying thing he’d done in the past week, but Y/N’s unmoving body was a consequence to it all. To his mistakes, his distracted nature and most of all – his past with Hydra. All of that had accumulated with her being picked up, a system attached to her veins, as she was rushed to the closest hospital.        “Let me go with them,” Bucky pleaded, watching as the medics wheeled the gurney out of the Tower. “Please, let me be with her.”        “The last thing they need is a hysteric super soldier, that can’t get it together. That won’t help them, and neither will it help Y/N.” Bucky could hear the held-back tears in Tony’s voice, and his heart broke even more.        “It’s my fault,” he was finally released from where Tony held him, and he whipped to look at the genius. “Please, just let me do this one thing right, let me help her.”        “You can meet up at the infirmary. Let the doctors do their job.” And with that said, Tony closed the helmet and set off into the air, tracking the ambulance that way.        Bucky was left alone at the Tower with two pools of blood behind him slowly merging together, a shattered coffee table, bloodstained walls and two discarded guns by his feet. Yet even through that whole mess that he should be probably cleaning up, as it was, after all, his fault, all he could think about was how Y/N had gasped his name, her face slowly leeching from color, her usually glowing skin, dulling down before her Y/E/C eyes closed and would not open no matter how hard he pleaded.        Dazed he turned around and walked into the hallway and to Y/N’s room where all of the shit that had happened, had started. Her bed was still messy and unmade, as she hadn’t had time to do so, a pillow at the foot of the matters because the girl could toss and turn so much, she ended up completely upside down. There was her half-drunk coffee cup still steaming on the bedside table, and her book with the dogeared page she hadn't gotten the chance to finish.        He trailed a finger over the spine of it without realizing that it left a burgundy line across the paper. And then he broke. His breathing turned completely ragged, and the more air he pulled in, the dizzier he got. It wasn’t long before he was on his knees, head gripped between his hands and pulling at his hair as if he was trying to pull out the memories of Y/N’s lifeless body from his mind.        Through a haze, Bucky heard FRIDAY say something, and he decided to focus on that sound like he used to with Y/N when she coaxed him out of a nightmare – a soft voice soothing him.        “Mister Barnes, are you alright?”        Bucky wanted to laugh at how an A.I. was asking how he was feeling.        “Your heart rate spiked and breathing patterns turned irregular signifying a panic attack. Should I contact Mister Rogers?”        “No,” he choked out, wiping away tears from his cheeks. “No, there’s no need for that. Let him stay focused on the mission. I’m – I’m going anyway. Can you please tell me which hospital Y/N was taken to?”        He was surprised at how composed he was while in the cab. Sure, his hands trembled as if an earthquake was going on, desperately clutching onto the book he’d taken from Y/N's room. It was the last thing she'd touched, and it grounded him in a horrible kind of a way.        She’ll want to finish it once she’s awake, he reasoned. Once she’s awake not if she survives. There was no room for argument. And all throughout the ride, all Bucky could think about was, if he’d done things differently, would Y/N be smiling while sitting in his lap, instead of fighting for her life?

Four months prior

       “Tony, I don’t need a fucking bodyguard!”        “Uh, yes. You do.”        “No, I don’t!”        That was the conversation Bucky heard as the walked towards the common room.        “My house, my rules!”        “This is the Avengers Tower! Literally, it has a ginormous fucking 'A' on the outside of it!”    "Well, it used to say 'Stark'."    "Well, it doesn't anymore!"        “I still paid for it!”        “If anything,” the woman continued on with her argument, “this is Pepper’s house. After all, she is the CEO of Stark Industries.”        “And if she was here, she’d say the same thing – you need a bodyguard! Ah, Barnes, there you are!” Tony exclaimed seeing the super soldier walk inside the room. “This pain in my ass is Y/N Y/L/N, she’ll be staying with us for a while.”        Out of politeness, Bucky extended his hand for her to shake, but she didn’t reciprocate, just kept staring a hole into Tony’s skull, hoping it would combust. To be fair, he was used to other people ignoring him, being afraid of him and just shutting him out, but somehow, when Y/N did it, he wasn’t hurt. Actually, it was kind of funny how unwavering her gaze was, and how with every passing second her eyes narrowed more and more at Tony’s skull.        He cleared his throat, pocketing his hand and gave Stark an amused look. He just rolled his eyes.        “I was wondering if you could act as her bodyguard for the five months she’ll be here.”        “Again,” Y/N gritted, “I. Don’t. Need. A. Bodyguard. I’m literally in the safest building on Earth.”        “Also, the most dangerous one.”        “Yeah, well, not my fault is it?”        “Can you stop with the sarcasm for one fucking second?”        “I dunno. Can you stop being annoying and listen to what others are telling you.”        “I’ve listened to you,” Tony replied putting a hand on his hips, “and I’ve elected to ignore the stupid bullshit coming from your mouth. You need a bodyguard.”        “And in a few more minutes, you’ll need a casket.”        A tense silence settled between the genius and the stranger, but Bucky could feel it was more frustration than anything with ill intent.        “I uh,” suddenly his voice was thick, and he couldn’t properly speak, so he cleared his throat. “I uh, yeah, I’d have no problems helping out… just tell Fury that I won’t be able to make it to missions.”        “Done,” Tony said, still having his stare off with Y/N.        “No, not done. I don’t need a bodyguard.”        Tony released a deep sigh before he placed both palms on her shoulders and brought her in a hug, her own arms still crossed across her chest.        “Just until this whole thing blows over, please, Y/N,” Tony was pleading now, and it shocked Bucky to see the usually closed off man be so vulnerable. “Please, just to put my mind at ease… just so I know you’re always safe.”        “Fine,” Y/N grumbled, returning the hug, and tucking her face in the crook of Tony’s neck. “But I’ll be complaining the whole time.”        “That’s Barnes’s problem now.”        “Oh, no,” she laughed pulling back, “you’ve roped the poor guy into this. Don’t think I’m not above walking to your lab to annoy you every day and make videos so FRIDAY can play them for you at the ungodliest hour of the night.”        “Fine, I’ll just disable your access to the lab floor and code FRIDAY so she doesn't respond to your commands.”        “Tones, if you think me annoying you entails just talking your ear off, you have no idea who you’re related to.”        Stark just skipped away with a middle finger stuck in the air. When he was out of sight, she huffed and smiled, turning to Bucky and extended her hand. “Hey, I’m Y/N.”        And that’s when his life changed forever. With one smile, Bucky was a goner.        “Hey,” he softly replied, extending his hand once again, only this time being greeted by her soft skin. “I’m Bucky.”    

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take): @shirukitsune @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @raquelbc2003 @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @pxrrishly @parker-barnes-af @skulliebythesea @california-grown @piensa-bonito @belongsto-prachi @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan

A/N: so, we doin this? we doin this.

P.S. my tags are always open/ requests are closed for now.

P.S.S. feedback is always appreciated :)

[escapingreality1992]

Bars and Hookups

Carol Danvers x OFC

“Lila? Hello? Lila!” a voice called out, a bit muffled as my attention was affixed elsewhere. There she is, standing with a group of people, laughing at someone’s joke most likely. The girl is a blonde with a slight wave to her hair; her eyes remind me of chocolate for they are a warm shade of brown. She’s taller than me, maybe by a few inches. This girl is beautiful. I imagine her laugh is beautiful, sweet as sugar. I don’t know for sure because I can’t hear it; she’s too far away.

           “Will you stop staring? One of these days she’s going to see you and come over here. What are you planning on doing then? The same voice from earlier says.

           “Huh?” I ask, my gaze still on her. A swift blow to my arm breaks my stare for a minute, my head swiveling to the person sitting across from me; now I remember that I’m hanging out with my friend, Sarah, a roommate from college. It also happens to be her birthday. Damn her for bringing me to this bar, I think to myself. When I agreed to this outing I hadn’t know we were coming to Haven, where she always comes…with the same group of people I’ve noticed her with.

Haven is quiet and cozy, the atmosphere always bringing good vibes. The interior is a cool shade of blue, reminiscent of the ocean in some ways, the wood paneling making it seem as if it were made out of driftwood. All the tables were black as midnight, the granite glimmering in the dim lighting. It was my favorite place to come if I wanted a drink and if I needed to cool off from work.

The first time I saw her was a few months ago when I desperately needed a relaxation from my stressful job, the bar drowned out as she walked in with a group of people, the same group of people she was in here with tonight; I was drawn to her, to the way she walked, the confidence oozing out of her. I couldn’t help but to think about what if she was mine to do as I pleased with her. Sarah had started coming with me a few weeks ago and had begun to notice how I’d sneak a peek in her direction, the infatuation brewing inside my aching heart. Now I was completely ignoring my friend, the guilt getting to me.

           “I’m sorry. Guess I’m a bit distracted,” I manage to say, resisting looking back over at that woman. I don’t know her name but I’d like to; I wanted to hear her say it, wanted to hear her voice; those rosy pink lips were a favorite thing of mine, my gaze always drifting down to. The people she came in with were easily recognized as the Avengers but I wasn’t sure which ones, except of course Tony Stark, his face constantly plastered everywhere before he saved the world during the battle of New York. The other ones were girls- a redhead with a curly bob, green eyes and the other a brunette, the same color eyes as the redhead-and I secretly prayed that the other three weren’t in relationship with my crush.

“Lila! You’re not even looking at her and yet you’re still daydreaming about her. A bit distracted? I think you might be a lot distracted,” Sarah commented, sipping her dirty martini.

           “Sorry…” I mumbled, picking at my fingers, ashamed of ignoring her. I decided to take one last peek at her…and found her staring right at me; she caught me. Shit. She’ll probably think I’m a weirdo, I thought, whipping my head back around, focusing on my friend.

“Uh oh. I think she saw you. Remember how I said she might come over here? Well…that’s exactly what she’s doing,” Sarah remarked. My body went rigid, my heart hammering in my chest, nerves spiking afraid of what was about to happen. The woman in question approached our table, standing in between my friend and me, hands on her hips, one jutting out to her right side.

           “Hi, my name’s Carol. I couldn’t help but that notice you were looking at me and I wanted to come over here to introduce myself. What’s your name pretty girl?” She greeted me, a smile on her face. I was at a lost for words, the reality of the woman I’d come to admire actually talking to me. I opened my mouth to speak, still no words coming out, my nerves taking over my senses.

           “Lila. Her name is Lila,” Sarah answered for me.

           “Nice to meet you Lila. I’ve seen you in here a couple of times before but you’re usually alone. What’s the occasion? Are you on a date?” Carol continued, her smile widening.

           “No, no. We’re not dating. We’re here celebrating my birthday. I invited her out for drinks and I hadn’t been here in quite some time,” Sarah replied, when I still could form no words, no voice.

           “Well, birthday girl, would it be terrible for me to buy your friend here a drink? Mind if my friends and I join you?”

           “No, not at all. In fact, I insist you join us. It’s kind of fun seeing her speechless for once,” Sarah said, nudging my leg under the table with her boot.

           “Perfect. I’ll be right back with my friends,” Carol stated, leaving the table. As soon as she was out of earshot and out of view, I kicked Sarah in the shin, making her curse and shoot me a glare.

           “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I can’t talk to her much less be around her. She probably thinks I’m a weirdo,” I snapped at her.

           “Weirdo, no. I do think you’re super cute though,” Carol’s voice penetrated my ears. Fuck, she’s quick, I thought, trying my best to fake a smile.

“So, anyway, this is Steve, Wanda, Natasha and I have no doubt you know this is Tony Stark. Guys, this is Lila and…sorry, I didn’t get your name,” She continued, pointing to Sarah and me after gesturing to her friends as she introduced them.

           “I’m Sarah. Please, join us,” Sarah stated.

           “Have a seat and I’ll be back with another…Bloody Mary for Miss Lila,” Carol remarked, making a note of my drink of choice.

“Extra spicy,” I choked out, receiving thumbs up from her.

“Finally! She speaks,” Sarah said, clapping her hands in a mocking fashion.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, playing with my straw.

“Danvers told us it’s your birthday. What better way to spend it than with the Avengers? At least with the ones that are here right now,” Tony stated, slinging an arm over both our shoulders.

           “Hey, Stark! Paws off my Lila,” Carol snapped, returning with my drink and one for her as well. Setting them down, she pulled up a couple of chairs, the rest of her party gathering around us. Draping an arm around me, she held me close, shooting dagger eyes at Tony.

           “Uh, Danvers. I don’t think she’s really yours,” Steve stated, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the back of his chair.

           “Not yet anyway,” She shot back, kissing my cheek. I stood up abruptly, excusing myself to go to the bathroom, embarrassment flooding my entire body. Entering a stall, I sat down on the toilet, angry tears springing to my eyes.

           How could I have been so stupid? Why did I have to get caught? Now I’m being flirted with and being humiliated by friend in front of her, I thought to myself. The sobs racked my body, my hands gripping my hair behind my ears.

           “Lila? Are you all right? You’ve been gone a long time. Carol and Sarah are worried about you,” a voice called out.

           “Yeah, I’m fine,” I blurted out, pulling out some toilet paper, dabbing at my face, wiping off any evidence I had been crying. Unlocking the door, I strode out, coming face-to-face with the woman whose name was Wanda.

           “You don’t look okay. What’s wrong? Did Carol come on too strong?” She asked me.

           “It’s nothing. I think I’m going home. I’m not feeling too well,” I replied, washing my face with a wet paper towel, cleaning up the makeup from where it ran while I was crying. Peeking outside, I made sure the people at my table weren’t looking, planning my exit from the bar.

           “She likes you by the way. She has been watching you the whole night. You’re the first person she looks for when we come here. You shouldn’t leave. I know it might make you scared but come have fun with us. Tell her to back off a little if she’s flirting too much. Don’t go Lila,” Wanda stated, freezing me mid-step.

           “I can’t. Not with Sarah humiliating me in front of her. I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I told her before ducking out the front door. I had driven by myself, no worries about Sarah getting stranded at the bar. I wouldn’t step foot in Haven again, not until a couple of weeks later when work got be too much.

  Three Weeks Later

At work things had gotten stressful and it seemed like I couldn’t do anything right. Some people didn’t want to bother working or being slack on the cleaning, nothing positive coming out of anyone’s mouths; I really wanted to snap back at those who aggravated me. I desperately wanted a break and after a few hours spent pacing around my apartment debating on going to Haven, I gave in to driving to the bar hoping I would see her; I wanted to see Carol.

           I wanted to get out my frustration and the only thing I could think of was to tear off all of her clothes and fuck her until the sun rose high in the sky. Thank goodness I lived only 15 minutes away from that bar and today is a Friday; no work on the weekends. I parked my light blue sedan, getting out and stalked up to the front entrance, pulling open the large wooden door. Scanning the crowd, I spotted Carol with the same group of friends, laughing and having a good time at a table in the back of the bar. She was wearing a brown leather jacket, a black shirt and dark blue jeans, black boots to match; it was a magnificent site. My nervousness spiked knowing what I was about to do wasn’t a thing I’m known to do.

           Breathe, Lila. Go make her yours, I thought, taking a deep breath and straightening my back and marching through the sea of people toward their table. Her eyes flickered to me, eyes wide with surprise; she didn’t a chance to speak as my lips smashed against hers, my hands grasping a handful of her soft, blonde hair, yanking her body to mine. At first, I thought she had changed her mind about me, her lips immobile as I kissed her; that was true until her arms secured my body to hers, those plump, pink lips capturing mine in a rough, longing second kiss. Someone cleared his or her throat, breaking us apart for a moment.

           “Are you going to join us or…?” the voice belonging to Tony asked, gesturing to the table in front of us.

           “I’m sorry, but no. I must steal Carol away for the rest of the night. There…are things I want to do to her. Things I should have been bold enough to do earlier,” I replied. His eyebrows raised and his mouth gaped open, the implication of what I wanted to do extremely clear in his expression. I grabbed Carol’s hand, tugging her to the entrance of the bar, exiting to my car in order to take her home.

 At my apartment building, I parked and led her up to my apartment door, unlocking it to usher her inside. Closing the door and locking it behind us, I turned to face her, my lips connecting once again to hers, both hands now interlaced in all of her hair.

She backed me up against the door, my back slamming into it hard but I didn’t care. I wanted her, needed her now. I moved my hands down to her jacket, pushing it off of her, the material hitting the floor, her shoulders bare against my skin, the shirt being a tank top underneath that jacket. She lifted me so I could wrap my legs around her waist, her lips moving down to my neck; I tilted my head back at the contact, her lips sucking on my sweet spot.

           “Where’s your bedroom?” she asked, mid-kiss, returning back for more, her hands slipping under my periwinkle blue shirt, warm hands cupping my breast still in the bra I was wearing.

           “In the back room down the hallway,” I answered, moaning as she had pulled down one cup of my bra and brushed her thumb across my nipple; it hardened at her marvelous touch. She carried back to the bedroom, laying me down on the mattress, removing my shirt from my body, ripping the front of the bra freeing my breasts. The cool air of the air conditioning, hardened my nipples even more, prompting her to press her mouth to one; the hot saliva and the way she swirled her tongue around it causing me to arch my back. She pinched and twisted the other one, my hands clinging to her shoulders, nails digging into her supple skin. From my breast, she trailed a line of kisses down my stomach, that soft hair making me shiver in anticipation as she unbuttoned my jean shorts, pulling them off, leaving my panties on, not quite ready to have me naked in front of her.

She lifted me up to remove the remaining remnants of my bra, returning her lips to mine, one hand sliding underneath the silky fabric of my panties and stroking a finger against my core until she inserted one finger inside my body. My hands ventured to her tank top hem and I shifted it upwards, her movements pausing to let me take it off her, unhooking her bra and tossing to the side. I unbuttoned her jeans, yanking them down along with her underwear, while she decided to take mine off, tired of the fabric getting in the way of her touch.

           I moaned as she inserted two more fingers, stretching me. Faster she went as she pumped them in and out of me, bringing me to climax, drenching her fingers; a loud moan from me echoed around the room.

           “I love that sound from you. I’m going to make you come again just to hear it one more time. Or maybe I’ll make you come over and over so that it never ends,” she told me, replacing her fingers with her mouth. My hips bucked, my legs spreading further apart as my hands clenched at the sheets. She sucked on me, her tongue lapping at my juices; tiny moans escaping my lips, crying out her name as she made me come again.

           “You’re as delicious as you look,” Carol stated, licking her lips. I growled in delight and flipped her over onto her back, my turn to make her orgasm.

           “I’d like to taste you to see if you’re as scrumptious as you appear to be,” I commented, trailing kisses of my own to her core, spreading her and pinning her legs to the mattress so she wouldn’t escape the pleasure I was prepared to give her.

           “Lila, fuck! Keep…going. You’re…fantastic…with…your tongue. Lila!” she called out in between breathy moans, as I brought her to climax inside my mouth. She did indeed taste fantastic, her appearance definitely matching with it. We played with each other, our touches and kisses continuing until we were exhausted, sweaty, coming to cuddle right as the sun began to rise. We had opened the blinds to watch it, her body pressed up behind me, her blonde hair fanning out against the pillow.

           “It’s stunning, like you,” she stated, kissing my neck, snuggling closer if that was even possible. Turning to face her, I kissed her lips, a sweet moment compared to what we had been doing throughout the night.

           “I’d like to take you out on a proper date. I like you. A lot. Tonight I was frustrated because of my job and I’d like this to be more than what it seems. What do you say? Want to go out with me tomorrow night?” I told her, receiving a nod from her.

           “I’d like that very much. I’ve been crushing on you ever since the first night I stepped in that bar,” she said, caressing my cheek and kissing me for a final time; we both fell asleep in each other’s arms the beginning of a very special relationship.

[fratboyvivimatthews]

why won’t you love me - mitch marner 

summary: in high school it all seemed so easy, so carefree. they loved one another and that was that. but the nhl gave them a slap across the face. that slap was reality, and it was time for a heartbreaking change. one that mitch blamed completely on himself. 

warnings: HEARTBREAK, angst, swearing, tears, mitch marner tears

word count: [1,463] 

a/n: lol so 5SOS new album Youngblood has been on constant repeat since it came out on Friday, and I really wanted to write something for one of the songs. go give the song, and or whole album a listen because man does it fucking rock. also i’m sorry in advance for making mitch cry, he doesn’t deserve that. p.s f/n means friend’s name 

“I’m only gone two days this time,” I reminded hoping to get a smile out of Y/n, but what I got was silence. Sighing I set my bag down before walking over to the bed were she was seated. “You know Y/n/n I miss you just as much as you miss me on roadies.” Her head nodded and her blank e/c eyes met mine. 

She stayed silent as I wrapped an arm around her. My lips brushed over her temple before she pulled away from me. “You better go,” she mumbled standing from the bed. “Auston’s gonna be pissed if you’re late to pick him up.” Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as I stared up at her. 

My head nodded quickly before I followed her actions. I grabbed my bag once more and started to leave the bedroom. “You’ll watch the games won’t you?” Y/n’s head barely nodded as she whispered yes like it was a sin coming from her lips. Cracking a fake smile I tried to act like I didn’t know what was happening. “Well I better get going. I love you Y/n/n, and I’ll call you as soon as we land.” 

It was her turn to give me a fake smile, “I’ll be waiting.” I stayed frozen in my place praying to god that I would hear her say those three words that would stitch together my broken heart. But after three seconds of waiting and my blue eyes staring into her empty e/c I forced myself to leave. 

The ride to Auston’s place was stuffy and uncomfortable, but the one to the airport was even worse. He was rambling on and on about some girl that he had hooked up with last night, but the only thing I could focus on was Y/n and how broken she had looked. How lonely she looked. 

Then while sliding up to turn airplane mood on for the fifth time this month it hit me. I was leaving her constantly, and I was the only causing her this pain when I swore to her that she didn’t have to worry about me hurting her. I stared down at her smiling picture on my phone wishing that she could hear me as I thought don’t worry you won’t be lonely. God please hear me Y/n. 

Resting my face up against the window I watch as the ground quickly disappears, and tears start to cloud my eyes. “Please still love me.” 

It’s two a.m and after a couple drinks thanks to beating Vegas she’s all I can think about. Matts and Willy are talking up a storm about some girl at the bar but I couldn’t help but reach for my phone and disappear from the table. The fresh air out the bar is comforting and just sends me further into a spiral. Thumbing through my contacts I find her name. 

I bit my lip waiting to hear her pick up, she always picks up for me no matter what. That’s all the hope I had left in my cracked heart. “Come on Y/n/n please pick up the damn phone for fucks sake.” 

“Hey you reached Y/n! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now I’m-”

“-Probably to busy watching me play. She’ll call you back once she gets the chance, thanks bye!” 

Groaning in annoyance I ended the call. Normally that voicemail would bring a smile to my face, but now it just made me frown. Without a second thought I tried again only to get the same results. “Fucking hell,” I muttered still not taking the hint that she was obviously ignoring the calls, or that she might be sleeping like a normal person.

But my drunk brain couldn’t process that it was two o’clock in the fucking morning and Y/n was probably sleeping. Flustered and starting to feel alone in unfamiliar city I made my way to the hotel wanting to crash before Auston got back to the room. He didn’t need to know about how my three year relationship was going to shit because of me. He also didn’t need to know that I lied when I told him I had talked to Y/n earlier. That I didn’t tell her the goal I scored was for her like I did every other time. 

So when I woke up in the morning with Auston’s brown eyes watching me I scrolled through my notifications looking to see if she ever answered. Sighing I opened my phone and called her. Licking my lips nervously I was prepared to hear the familiar voicemail only this time it wasn’t.

“Hello?” Her voice seemed so distant and far away from me. 

“Hey Y/n/n, what’s up?” I asked watching as Auston disappeared from the room with his go bag in hand. Y/n sighed over on the other side of the line and I could hear as she sniffed. “You didn’t answer my calls last night, or this morning.” 

While I waited for her explanation I grabbed my stuff and threw it into the bag. “I didn’t hear them.” I could hear her lying to me. “Look Mitch I’m already late, can you text me if you need something or whatever?” 

My hand ran through my hair, it was obvious that she was distancing herself from me now. “Uh, yeah I can. But hey I love you Y/n, okay? And I’ll call you before warm-ups tonight.” This time I didn’t even get an answer. Making it was harder to hold back the tears then it was on the plane. 

Why won’t you love me anymore Y/n?

When I walked into our shared apartment on Saturday Y/n was sitting at the island her eyes glued to something she was holding in her hands. Setting my bags down I walked over to her. “F/n got engaged,” Y/n whispered unable to meet my gaze. 

My jaw dropped partly remembering the girl who was always glued to Y/n’s hip if she wasn’t with me. “Really?” Her head nodded causing her h/c to fall loose out of her messy bun. “I didn’t realize her and her boyfriend were that serious.” 

“More serious than us,” Y/n mumbled under her breathe. Furrowing my eyebrows together I waited for her to look up at me. Once she did I saw how her e/c eyes were full to the brim of tears. “I can’t wait anymore Mitch,” she then added making sure my blue eyes held her gaze and saw the pain I caused. 

“What do you mean Y/n/n?” I asked not quiet knowing what she meant. Her arms wrapped tightly around her torso like she was trying to protect herself from me. “Talk to me please Y/n/n.” 

She shook her head, “Don’t call me that.” My breathing stopped as I waited for her to continue with her thoughts. “I-I need - need to make a change Mitchell. It’s just so hard to be lonely.” I could feel the tears fill my eyes at her words. Her head leaned down against the countertop unable to hold my gaze anymore. 

Slowly I sat down next on the barstool next to her, and honestly I was waiting for her to tell me to move. But she didn’t, and we sat their in silence for what seemed like hours. Hers silent sobs could be heard every once in awhile, and all I wanted to do was hold her close to me and tell her that I loved her. But that doesn’t work anymore. The realization caused my own tears to fall. 

God someone please help us. Someone fucking please help us.

“I know that you go to sleep wishing you’d wake up next to me, even when I’m thousands of miles away,” I managed to choke out against my cries. With her head still resting on the countertop she rested it on her side to look at me through the tears. “But why won’t you love me Y/n? Please just tell me why.” 

Shaking her head she only started to cry more. Her mouth opened to speak, but only more sobs came out and raked through her body. This time I did reach over and wrap her up into my arms, and to my surprise she wrapped hers back around me. “Can you tell me why we’re stilling holding on to each other?” 

“Because it’s what’s familiar to us,” she whispered her fist curling around my sweatshirt, “because we don’t know how to not love each other.” More tears fell down my cheeks and into her h/c messy hair. “I do love you Mitch-”

My sobs got harder causing her to stop speaking and hold me tighter. “No, you don’t Y/n. You won’t love me,” I whispered like sounding just like a broken record.  Her cries worsened as did mine. “Why won’t you love me?” 

[mezhane]

JUST MARRIED (...kinda)

PART 3

We were now all sitting at the table . Yixing and I were both sitting in front of each other and both sitting between our parents. Honestly, this little « family gathering » was more of an occasion for our parents to settle the arrangements. Yixing and I didn’t really have a word on it . I was really trying as hard as I can not to meet the boy’s eyes , but I could feel him staring at me so hard he could burn holes through my skin . I tried to focus myself on something else to relax a little bit and in that situation, nothing could be better than food. I was scrolling through the menu when the waiter came over .

« Alright ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to order ? »

« Uh ... Yes, I’ll take the eggs Benedict,please! » I heard my dad speak, in the most cheerful tone ever . He really did pass me his love for food ...

As the waiter was taking everyone’s orders I sensed an awkward tinge of stress . I don’t now why but I always felt like people were judging me when I ordered food. This comes all the way back from when I was a teenager. I was quite chubby and to be really honest , I still was . I didn’t lose that much weight , but I just learned to accept myself how I was and to learn to develop positivity. However, no matter how hard I worked , people were always there to remind me that I could « lose a few » or that I might wanna « slow down and drop my fork for a minute . » I can eat , and I love to eat I really don’t see why everyone was making such a big deal out of it-

“Miss ?...”

“Uh?” I replied sounding dumbfounded .

“Are you ready to order ? What can I get you ?”

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. I was obviously nervous.

“I’ll get the blueberry pancakes and the soft boiled egg also can I get a-“

I felt my mom slap my thigh . There was it. She stayed silent but her eyes spoke for her : “Slow down Mina for God’s sake ! What will they think of you ? “ I could read it all in the way her eyes widened at me, more as a threat than in shock. I chuckled darkly and gave her my most hypocritical smile .

“Can I order a drink, mother?Or do I need your permission? ” And with that, I completely ruined the mood. A very painful silence filled the room and I realized too late that I might have been a little aggressive... I looked down and frowned at myself in guilt .

“She’ll have a strawberry lemonade, don’t make it too sweet though. Lots of ice. “ I looked up as I heard Yixing order the drink for me . I couldn’t hold my smile back and though my eyes might have a little sadness in them . He winked back at me and mouthed a simple “I got you”. This was enough for me to feel comforted. But then I realized what had just happened. He ordered my favorite drink for me. So he remembered. After all those years, he didn’t forget. I bit the inside of my cheek so stop myself from grinning.

As the food arrived, the atmosphere lightened up a little bit . Everyone was enjoying themselves and thanks to my dad and his wonderful sense of humor, the air was quickly full of laughter. But I knew it wouldn’t last long .

“So , Mina , what do you think of Yixing? Do you think he would make a great husband? You know, he might be my son , but I’m not bias ! Tell me honestly, my dear !”

“Dad... Please , just don’t “ Yixing’s ears soon turned red and he was avoiding my gaze. Honestly, seeing him lose control was kind of funny.

“You don’t have to to answer that Mina, don’t feel pressured.”

“No , it’s fine , I’ll answer! Well, uncle , If I’m really honest with you , I feel like Yixing could be a really good husband. He seems very responsible and I know he’s very respectful, so there’s no way he’ll be a bad husband.” I was actually really proud of myself for not giving an answer that wasn’t giving out the fact that I have been crushing on the man since my middle school years. But Yixing seemed surprised . Like he wasn’t expecting this coming from me .

“You really think that,Babyface? “ I did nothing but nod my head fervently .

“What about you Yixing? What do you think of Mina ? You’ve seen her grow up after all ! Did she change a lot ? “ My mom urged on him . God, she can be so intrusive sometimes...

“Well, she did grow a lot , but I hope she still is the Mina I know inside, because I would change that for nothing in the world.”

My eyes widened at that . Damn . I wasn’t expecting this situation to take such a turn ! He gave me the cutest smile and went back to his drink .

“Okay, I think we have a deal then , if everyone is happy with each other ! “ Yixing’s mom said ,clapping her hands .

“Uh, I have one request though...” I found the courage to utter . I had to ask for it now , otherwise it was gonna be too late . “I would like Yixing and I to spend some time together, to...you know... get to know each other more deeply ... I thought it was a good idea to... um... to go on a couple of dates before the actual wedding, to get ... more ... comfortable? With each other ?... I don’t know, maybe that’s not a good idea, I was just proposi-

“No, that’s actually a really great idea, Mina ! I would love to take you on a couple dates, before we actually get married! Um...With your parents’ permission, of course . “

My dad’s laugh echoed in my ears and all of a sudden , my heart felt lighter .

“Son, you have my blessing ! “

Yixing just smiled at my dad , then at me . And I felt proud that I stood up for my ideas . After setting a date for the wedding, we were all ready to leave . The parents were walking on one side and Yixing and I were on another side . There were awkward smiles and giggles, but strangely enough, I didn’t feel like walking away from the situation.

“So, um... I’ll text you later today ? So we can set up a date for the first date ? I’ll have to go abroad for business next week so maybe we can see each other when I come back- He face palmed himself and shook his head . “No. I shouldn’t start things like this . Let’s see each other before I leave , yeah ? I’ll treat you dinner .

“Okay ! I’m down . How about after tomorrow? Sounds good to you ? “

“After tomorrow, So Friday? Yeah, sounds perfect!” I was watching his warm smile turn into a frown of embarrassment as he took his phone out of his pocket. “Um... I know this is gonna sound really cheesy, but can I get your number ? You know, to ... set up the date and everything... “ Seeing Yixing get so shy and scratch the back of his head as he was probably mentally cringing at himself was honestly a big boost to my self confidence.

“Uh... Well it’s... it’s still the same number, I... never changed my number ... But you probably don’t have it anymore, I mean why would you-“

“I still have it . My number is still the same too... so I hope you still have it .” He sounded so stern all of a sudden and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not . The dark and strict look in his eyes caused the heat of my body to rush to my cheeks .

“O-okay then if we still have each other’s numbers , I guess I’ll wait for your text !” My throat was dry and I was desperately looking for something to escape the situation. I looked over at my parents to see them getting into the car. I looked back at Yixing smiling. “I guess I should go then ! “

He just nodded at me and opened his arms signaling me to come closer . He pulled me very close and lowered his face to whisper in my ear : “I honestly can’t wait for you to be my wife, Babyface.”

I felt really hot all of a sudden , and I pulled away from him, avoiding his gaze as much as possible. Yixing apparently noticed my embarrassment because he laughed loudly at my obviously flustered self.

“I’ll text you later alright ? “

“Ok !”

“Ok... Go Mina , your parents are waiting for you . “

“Yeah... “

And I left just like that . Too scared to turn back and see if he was actually looking at me , but secretly praying that he would ...

As we arrived home , I directly went into my room and crashed on my bed . So many things happened in just one morning. Recalling all the events that happened today, I suddenly felt hit by reality. So this was gonna be it . I’ll be somebody’s wife in a few months . New life, new home , new family and new responsibilities ... God , this all happened so fast ... How did I go from college kid to bride to be in a matter of weeks ? I sighed and rubbed my temples. All this thinking got me a headache. I decided to take a small nap to make the pain go away...

-1hour later-

I was awakened by my phone buzzing like crazy. I groaned and tapped my bed a few times before my hand finally came in contact with my phone . I gasped and sat down properly on my bed when I read Yixing’s name on my phone .

[Yixing 2:03 pm]

“Hi again Babyface”

[Yixing 2:05 pm]

“Did you arrive home safe ? “

[Yixing 2:10 pm]

“I did too. Thanks for asking.”

[Yixing 2.15 pm]

“Anyways , I saw this very nice Italian restaurant we could go to on Friday! You know I’m not that fond of Italian food , but if I remember correctly, you love Italian food , soooo... yeah “

[Yixing 2:23 pm]

“Aren’t I the cutest for my little wife ?”

[Yixing 2:45 pm]

“Really ? Wow , you’re not even reading my texts...”

Fuck . I hit myself on the head a couple of times before urging to unlock my phone to answer him .

[Me 3:00 pm]

“OMG I’m so sorry Yixing, I fell asleep !”

[Me 3:03]

“Italian is perfect! I know you don’t really like Italian, so I really appreciate the gesture”

[Me 3:03 pm]

“You’re the cutest husband !!”

I was nervously tapping my nails on my screen, waiting for him to answer and hoping that he wasn’t too upset .

[Yixing 3:05 pm]

“You almost pissed me off ,Mina . I was starting to think you were avoiding me “

[Me 3:05 pm]

“Nooo!!! Why would I avoid you? Don’t be ridiculous! And did you just call me Mina ? Am I not Babyface anymore ? “

[Yixing 3:07 pm]

“You’re Mina when you upset me ... And by the way, you used to call something else than Yixing too, you know ? What happened to that ? “

I smirked at this. He was so composed in every situation, but he could be so childish sometimes...

[Me 3:09 pm]

“What are you talking about , Yixing ? What nickname did I give you?” I teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.

[Yixing 3:12 pm]

“You know what I’m talking about, come on , don’t tell me you forgot ! I’m dying to hear you say it ... If you don’t call me by my nickname, I won’t call you by yours , Mina...”

I winced as I read the message. I hated to hear him calling me by my name .

[Me 3:15 pm]

“Okay Xingie , I was just messing around with you ...”

[Yixing 3:22 pm]

“Good girl.”

A whole shiver went through my spine when I saw his last text . I quickly locked my phone and tossed it away somewhere on my bed. I nervously smiled to myself and squealed like a thirteen year old girl . Pride and embarrassment washed over me as I realized he called my his “Good girl” . There was nothing new , he had always called me that . But I never understood the double meaning of it when I was younger. But now that I was older and that my hormones got on the way , I couldn’t lie and say that I didn’t fantasize about Yixing calling me a “good girl” in more ... steamy situations. I bit my lip and shook my head . I was getting hot just at the thought of Yixing and I getting intimate... My phone buzzed one more time and I jumped on my bed to get it , hoping it would be a text from Yixing. It wasn’t.

[Marina Babe 4:25 pm]

“Babe ! Haven’t heard of you in a whole week!! What’s up ? Did you meet the guy ? Who is it ? Is he hot ? Don’t tell me he’s an old uncle please !!! Tell me everythiiiiiiing !!!”

I smiled at this and brought my phone to my heart. Words cannot describe how much I love this girl . I knew the idea of me marrying her cousin would make her lose her shit , cause we will have an actual excuse for always being in each other’s lives as we would be family for real now . I unlocked my phone to answer her.

[Me 4:28 pm]

“I’m marrying Yixing.”

Yes, I was marrying Yixing. And to be quite honest, I couldn’t wait to be his ...

[steelfeather]

Rebound - The Epilogue (A Tom Holland x Reader Imagine)

Request: Not directly, but I was bullied. Here are some quotes: ( @marveltomjunkie ): “Part 2????! Pleeeaaaassseee! I can’t take it.....It’s not fair!”, and ( @spideychelle-romanogers ): “@marveltomjunkie she’ll do it. Know why? Cuz she’s an ASSHOLE who owes me something that will make me STOP CRYING.”

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: A year after your ill-fated encounter with Tom, you meet again under less than optimal circumstances.

Ships: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Angst, a tiny bit of fluff. Emotional heart-to-heart included. Cursing. Mostly from me.

*A/N: Please read to the end for author’s notes so I can avoid spoilers.

Rebound

You regret coming to your favorite coffeehouse at this hour; it’s busy, loud in a cheerful way, and Riley looks like she’s going to start crying in your ear any second now, her tiny face screwed up in a silent scream. You give the barista your order quickly and pay, rocking the infant slightly as you internally pray that she can last another ten minutes without a meltdown. She gurgles up at you with an almost-smile, and you can’t help beaming back, until the barista calls out a name you wish you had forgotten.

“Medium caramel latte for Tom!”

You can’t help stiffening a little, even a year later, at the reminder of your first lover. Intent on not letting it ruin your mood, you smile warmly down at Riley’s deep brown eyes.

When you hear a soft voice with a British accent calling your name in shock, your head snaps up, looking at the last person you expected to see.

Tom’s mouth hangs open slightly as he stares at you, his latte held loosely in one hand. His eyes keep straying to the baby in your arms, his expression flickering between emotions too quickly for you to read them. You feel frozen, trapped by his scrutiny.

He steps closer, and you’re almost shaking, stunned by the depth of your reaction to him. You had convinced yourself that you no longer cared about him, but now he’s here and you’re trembling and rooted to the spot.

“Hi,” he breathes, sounding as if someone just punched him in the gut.

“I went back to your hotel room,” you accidentally whisper, immediately wishing the ground would swallow you and allow you to live out your days in the underworld, alone with your humiliation. His face twists in pain and regret, eyes sliding to Riley’s face. “You weren’t there.”

“Why didn’t you call?” he asks, almost pleading.

“I had deleted your number.” It’s quiet, not accusatory, but you see your words hit their mark, regardless. He blanches.

“What’s her name?” he asks, voice a little broken, and you look down to see her eyeing him with no small amount of trepidation.

“This is Riley,” you tell him quietly. “Her mom had a job interview, so I’m looking after her for a few hours.”

“Oh,” he says. “Oh.”

You tilt your head at him quizzically.

“So she’s not… yours? Mine?”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. “No.”

Some of the intensity leaves his face, but he doesn’t look as relieved as you would expect. He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Are you free this afternoon sometime for lunch?”

A ragged breath claws its way out of your throat, old pains rising to the forefront. “Tom… you really hurt me.”

“I know,” he tells you, eyes shiny. “Please just give me one last chance. I want to talk with you.”

You sigh, grabbing a napkin and snagging one of the barista’s Sharpies from across the counter as she gives you a stern glare. You scribble an address, time, and phone number on it, then hand it to him before returning her marker. She softens a little and gives you your coffee.

“Thank y—”

“One chance,” you interrupt him, eyes steely. “That’s all you get.”

You turn on your heel and stride out the door, shoulders squared. Before you hit the curb, your phone vibrates with a text, his number displayed above two simple words.

Thank you.

You hide your treacherous smile in Riley’s downy baby hair.

He’s already waiting at the café when you arrive, eyes darting anxiously to the door every few seconds. He stands when he sees you, his hands fidgeting as he pulls out your chair for you. You feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck before he returns to his seat.

The two of you order, and then descend into a tense silence. You find yourself absently ripping a napkin into shreds between your fingertips, watching him from beneath your lashes as he traces invisible designs on the tabletop.

“I’m sorry,” he finally starts. “I know that doesn’t mean much in the end, but I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you that way.”

“But you did,” you murmur, your voice betraying you as it cracks a little.

He bows his head. “I understand that now. I should have been up-front, or just not pursued you, or at least been more gentle when I realized how… inexperienced you were.”

You exhale.

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s any reason to assign blame. You weren’t trying to hurt me, and I wasn’t trying to get attached so quickly. If you need some kind of closure, you should know that I’m not angry.”

He looks into your eyes, and you’re short of breath suddenly.

“This isn’t about closure.”

The food arrives, and you bite into your sandwich, barely registering the taste, as you process the potential meaning of his words. The silence stretches to a breaking point.

“…what is it about?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he insists. He continues as your mouth drops slightly open, breath hitching. “When you didn’t call me, I found myself wishing I could go back, change everything. So I could keep that happy look on your face when you were barely awake, wearing my shirt with the worst bed head I’ve ever seen.”

“Tom,” you say, nearly speechless.

“I wasn’t ready then, but I wish I had been. Because… you’re special, and I think you’re worth risking my heart again.” He’s still looking straight at you, the hope on his face nearly blinding.

“Tom…” you start, “…what is it you’re looking for? A fresh start? To pretend none of that ever happened?”

“No.” He’s very serious. “I don’t want to forget anything. But I do want a second chance. An opportunity to work past what happened. I care about you.”

“It might take time for me to trust you.”

“Then I’ll give you time. As much as you need.”

He’s still looking at you, radiating light and happiness and hope, and you’re only human. No match for the boy who’s practically a celestial being, watching you with stars in his eyes.

“I expect some sucking up. Romantic gestures and shit.”

He makes a poor attempt to conceal a snort. “All the gestures you could want.”

“Well, then,” you smirk, mentally telling your traitor heart to calm down, stat, “I assume you have an amazing idea for Friday night. I’ll see you at seven. Text me what I should wear.”

He grins and it’s like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. Your cheeks flush with happiness, lips curving into a smile despite your best efforts. As you stand to go, he rises with you, running his thumb over your cheekbone before dropping a gentle kiss on it.

You turn and leave, fingers hovering over the spot his lips touched.

It feels a lot like a new beginning.

*A/N: Y’all... I literally put the baby in there to fuck with your emotions. Who am I anymore?? But seriously, I hope the end transition felt natural. I kinda think it would have been unrealistic to have them completely happy/resolved at the end. They have a lot of ground to cover, a lot to work through. But I left it on an optimistic note because I’m a soft bitch like that. 

Taglist: @curly-haired-holland, @dangerousluv1, @fairydustparker, @friendlyneighborhoodgf, @im-finallly-clean, @kaciidubs, @lovemalikstyles, @mc-universe, @middlefingermichelle, @mrshollandparker, @peterr-parqerr, @quackmom, @quacksonss, @spideythewebsitter, @spocksandsandals, @stanbroughing, @tomhstories, @twiceinabluemoon  

[imaginexwwe]

Can I Take You Out? (Jey Uso)

Anon wanted Jey Uso asking you out

_______

Jey Uso asks longtime crush, Reader out on a date: FLUFF

_______

Warnings: SLIGHT CURSING

_______

‘OMG. YOU CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW HARD IT IS NOT TO JUST WRAP MY LEGS AROUND JEY AND SMOTHER HIS SAMOAN ASS IN KISSES’

Send.

'YOU’RE SO LUCKY YOU ALREADY GOT YOUR SAMOAN DADDY’

Send.

I tossed my phone back down on the bed waiting for a reply.

But after more than an hour passed, I kinda got upset.

I mean it’s not like my best friend, Naomi to take all day to reply, but then again she is a busy, busy person.

But it literally takes only seconds to type a message.

A sigh left my mouth as I decided to give it a bit longer.

_______

“What the fuck, Naomi?” I said out loud to myself, as I picked up the phone but to call her this time.

Cause she’ll probaly just ignore my text again. I said to myself, then giggled at my saltiness.

Hm, I wonder if me being salty is a turn off for Jey. I thought biting my lip.

Yeah, I should probaly change that.

“Hey, boo.” Naomi said as soon as she picked up the phone.

Oh no she didn’t.

“Nope. Don’t boo me after you ignored my text, Naomi. You know I love to vent my desires for Jey.” I rambled.

My best friend stayed silent for a minute on the other line.

“Jey? Y/N you didn’t send me a text about Jey. Last message you sent was us talking about you flying out in a few days.”

I groaned. “Naomi, I know what I sent.” I said putting the phone on speaker and opening my messages. “It’s right here. I sent it to…”

My eyes widened at who I sent the message to.

“Shit!” I yelled out. “I sent that to Jey.”

From the other line I could here Naomi laugh.

“How do you get texting me missed up with texting Jey?”

“I don’t know.” I whined. “He had sent a message before you and I must have gotten them mixed up when I was replying.”

I put my head in my hands feeling hit rise to my cheeks.

This is so embarrassing.

“It’s not a big dea–”

How dare she “no big deal” this?

This is a very big deal.

“Naomi, I basically referred to me wanting him to be my samoan daddy.” I said pouting. “Ugh, I can’t fly out to meet you now. I just know I’m gonna run into Jey and… Naomi, in so embarrassed.”

“You’re not flying out for a few days, maybe he’d forgotten that text by then.” My best friend said trying to help the situation.

But I can tell she was trying to hide her laughter also.

“Whatever.” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

After I hung up my phone I tossed it back on the bed.

She’s crazy if she thinks in still flying out there.

_______

I can’t believe I fucking flew out here. I thought as I cautiously walked through the halls with Naomi.

So far I’ve been lucky not to run into Jey though, so that was a plus.

“Y/N?” I heard a man call out to me, making me slowly turn.

And almost shit myself at first glance.

“Thank God, it’s just you.” I said hugging Jimmy.

He let out a chuckle. “Thought I was my brother?”

I pulled away from our hug with a gasp.

“Did you tell him?” I asked questioning Naomi.

“Y/N. I didn’t say anything.” She replied.

I nodded.

She sounded sincere.

_______

“Hey, Y/N.” I heard another familiar voice say from behind me and I closed my eyes.

Please be Jimmy.

Please be Jimmy.

I prayed to myself before opening them and turning around.

“Jey.” I said forcing a smile. “I was wondering when I was gonna run into you.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face, to match mines.

Only difference, he didn’t have to force his.

Not that Jey couldn’t bring a smile to my face at any given day.

Just the thought of him would.

But after that embarrassing text mix up, it was hard not to want to run away and hide.

Anything to avoid him, honestly.

“I’ve been looking around for you.” Jey chuckled. “I knew you were around here, I just couldn’t seem to find you.”

“I’ve just been trying to say hi, to some familiar faces.” Y/N giggled a little.

Jey nodded, brushing his hand over hers. “But not mines?”

“Maybe I was saving my favorite one for last.” She replied biting her lip.

Where the hell did that come from?

And that lip bite?

“Alright. I’m just gonna come out and ask…” Jey started moving a strand of hair from her face. “Can I take you out Friday night? You know before you fly back home?”

What?

Is he really…?

Am I dreaming?

Y/N secretly moved her hand behind her and pinched herself.

Nope.

Not dreaming.

“Y/N…?” Jey questioned after she stayed silent.

“I would to go out with you Friday.” Y/N finally answered her smile reappearing.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” Jey said turning to leave. “And oh, Y/N.” He added.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry, I can be your Samoan Daddy and you can wrap your legs around me and smother me with kisses.” He smirked leaving.

Y/N’s eyes widen.

Just that fast she had forgotten the texts and just that fast her she began blushing.

“Jey!” She groaned hiding her face.

[historyrepeatsitself-phff]

Chapter Seventy-Four Part-One

A/N: You need to read the last chapter before this one and you may have missed it as I updated on Friday, so you can read that here. As this chapter is in parts, I’ll post the next part tomorrow, as technically it’s still one chapter. I mean, I swear the posting rule is out the window now anyway, so just enjoy!! 💖

In other news, here we go. 😉

“Ooooooow!”

Emmy squeezed Harry’s hand as tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut, riding the pain that tore through her abdomen. She’d only had a handful of contractions so far, and she knew from the books that the pain was only going to get worse. That thought wasn’t filling her with confidence.

“Okay, here we go,” Rick said, slowing the car into an unloading bay round the back of the hospital.

“They know we’re here,” Kev added from the passenger seat, finally hanging up the phone. “Mary is inside waiting for you right now.”

“Okay,” Harry said, then turned to Emmy, not letting go of her hand. Her blue eyes were wide with fear and nerves, and she held onto him as though her life depended on it. “You ready to get out the car?”

“Don’t let go of me,” she blurted, terrified.

“I won’t, slide across the seat and get out my door,” he said, jumping out and gently pulling her across the back seat after him. She paused with her feet dangling out the door, and puffed air up onto her face.

“You’re going to have to help me,” she said, struggling to push herself to her feet.

He chuckled. “Come on.” He snaked an arm round her body, pulling her out of the car. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go, quickly,” he said, hurrying towards the hospital, his arm still around her, tugging her after him. She ran as fast as she could before someone could spot them. She prayed to God that no one would take a picture of her in the state that she was in.

Kev led the way into the lobby, but there was no need. Mary was stood there, a wheelchair at the ready.

“Your royal highnesses,” she said, bowing her head slightly. Emmy sank into the chair before she could finish talking.

“Thanks,” Harry said to Mary, slightly breathless. “Sorry, bit puffed out. We rushed over here.”

“Don’t worry, just take some deep breaths,” Mary said, throwing him a smile. Then she turned her attention to Emmy. “Emmy, you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just freaking out,” she said, as Mary began to wheel her out into one of the corridors. Harry hurried after them, and insisted on pushing his wife, letting Mary lead the way.

“Try and remain calm, I know it’s hard,” Mary said gently. “So, your waters have broke, yes?”

“Yeah, just before we left. I had a contraction before it, and then they broke, and I’ve had a few more since then,” Emmy explained, as they filed into the lift, Kev squeezing in with them.

“Good, sounds like you’re still at the early stages, so there’s absolutely nothing to stress about,” Mary said. “I’ll show you to your room, let you get changed and comfortable, and then I’ll come and check how dilated you are.”

The lift doors opened and Harry pushed Emmy out into the corridor. A few yards down, a woman screaming could be heard. The sound was muffled by the closed doors, but it sent a shiver through Emmy. Her heart picked up speed, and she gripped the arms of the wheelchair until her knuckles were white.

“Here you are,” Mary said, showing them to their private room. “This will be your room for the next day or so. Of course, when you’re ready to give birth we’ll take you to the delivery room. Your gown is folded on the bed there.” She smiled at Kev, then. “There’s a room for visits just at the end of the corridor, I suppose that’s best for you?”

“Yes, thank you,” he said, nodding. He looked over at Emmy and Harry. “I’ll just leave your bag here for you.”

“Yeah, thanks Kev,” Harry said, throwing a smile at the PO.

Mary and Kev left, Mary promising to return in five minutes and see where Emmy was at, and Harry and Emmy were alone in their room. They looked at each other, both looking mildly terrified.

“I can’t believe it’s happening,” Emmy said.

“Me neither,” he agreed. “Those last ten minutes were…” He laughed, almost deliriously. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I know, stressful or what?”

“If you didn’t want to eat my cooking you should’ve just said,” he teased lightly.

She laughed, then looked horrified. “Oh shit, did you turn off the stove?”

“Yes-”

“Are you sure?!”

“Emmy, calm down,” he said, moving to crouch in front of her. He opened his mouth to speak but Emmy interrupted, gasping out in pain and clutching onto the arms of the wheelchair with both hands. “Shit.”

Emmy breathed heavily and rapidly through an open mouth, her face contorted as she endured the contraction. Then she let her head fall back, sighing. “Ow.”

Harry actually laughed at her single word. “I think ‘ow’ is an understatement.”

“Certainly is,” she said, then reached for his arms and pulled herself to her feet. He tensed, supporting her, until she was stood in front of him. “Help me change?”

“Of course,” he said, helping her pull her top over her head, and then dealing with her leggings himself. She removed her underwear, still wet from her waters breaking, and then pulled the hospital gown on. He smirked. “Sexy.”

“Piss off,” she said, a smile playing at her lips as she blushed. She pushed herself up onto the bed and laid back, sighing at the comfort. “I just want her out of me now.”

“Give it time, she’ll be out in no time,” he said, smiling and perching on the edge of the mattress. He tipped his head on one side and watched her as her blue eyes took in the room.

“It’s quite big,” she mused, reaching for his hand and entwining their fingers absently. “Bigger than I expected.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I wonder if we have a good view.” He got up and moved over to the window, twitching the curtain aside. “Oh fuck!” He jumped out of the way.

She raised an eyebrow, too tired to freak out. “What is it?”

“They gave us a room facing South Wharf Road!” he said. “All the photographers are out there!”

Emmy had bigger problems. “Oh well, just stay away from the window.”

“I should go ask for a different room,” he murmured. “We don’t need someone seeing us looking out.”

“Harry, just drop it,” she snapped, then groaned as another contraction started. This one didn’t last very long, and she rode it out by grabbing a fistful of her hospital gown. Just as it ended, Mary knocked.

“Okay, let’s have a look at how dilated you are,” she said gently, and Emmy moved so that Mary could feel between her legs. Harry came and stood by Emmy’s head, not wanting to see anything, and he anxiously met Mary’s eyes as Mary emerged, smiling.

“You’re still only 2 centimeters gone,” she said. “You’ve got plenty of time to settle in and prepare yourself.”

“Ugh!” Emmy moaned, her head falling back. “You mean it’s going to be ages, right?!”

“Not necessarily, we won’t know until you dilate a bit more,” Mary said. “I’ll be back in in about ten minutes to see how we’re doing. Feel free to make yourselves at home in the meantime. If there’s anything you would like – food, drinks – please do phone down to room service.”

Emmy watched her leave. “Bet there’s no room service on the NHS,” she said, frowning.

“Do you want anything?”

“No,” she said, laying her head back down on the pillow. “You can get something if you want.”

“Maybe later,” he said. “We’re paying enough for this room, we may as well take advantage of it.”

She half-smiled, but then her face fell. “Harry, I’m scared.”

He looked back at her, at her beautiful face that was full of fear, and his heart broke. He reached for her hands, taking them in his and giving them a squeeze. “Oh, darling, don’t be afraid. This is the most natural thing on Earth, and just think. We’ll have a little baby at the end of it.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Can you kiss me, please?” she asked, knowing it would be too much hassle for her to sit up herself.

Harry broke into a smile, and leant over, embracing her lips with his own and gently teasing them apart with his tongue. And then, without warning, she bit down, her teeth piercing his tongue, as a contraction tore through her.

“Argh!” he hissed, pulling away and holding his mouth. Emmy was holding her bump, panting again, eyes squeezed tightly shut. A few moments passed, and then she relaxed, looking up at him. Her eyes widened innocently.

“What happened?”

“You bit my tongue!” he said, poking it out. “Is it bleeding?”

“No,” she said, then rolled her eyes. “Sorry, does that hurt?!”

He noticed the bitterness in her tone and cleverly changed the subject. “I better tell people. You know, William, Taylor, our families. Let them know that it’s happening.”

“Don’t leave,” Emmy said instantly.

“I won’t, baby,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “I’m gonna sit down in the lovely armchair-” He sighed with content as he collapsed into the comfy chair. “-and phone them.”

She watched him pull his phone out of his pocket. “Is that chair worth the 5000 pound cost of this hospital?”

“Nope, but it will be when I order room service,” he said, throwing her a cheeky grin. “Oh shit, I forgot there was wifi here too. Don’t have that on the NHS, either.”

Emmy rolled her eyes, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling. “Who are you going to call first?”

“Probably Ed, see where him and Claire are. I know Rick said he was going to phone them once he’d parked the Rover.” Harry tapped on his phone, then held it up to his ear. He felt slightly relieved that Mary had said they had ages until the birth – it meant he had time to relax and mentally prepare himself for this. It stopped the panic and the stress. He had time to call everyone and tell them, not to have to announce it without even letting William know.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hi, Ed,” Harry said.

“Harry, how is everything? How’s Emmy?”

“It’s fine, she’s fine,” he answered. “Only 2 centimeters, so apparently we’ve got quite a while.”

“Phew, Claire and I are nearly there,” Edward said. “We’re just passing Lancaster Gate.”

“Okay, have you told anyone?”

“No, I thought I’d leave that to you,” he said. “Anyway, I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Bye, Ed.” Harry hung up and turned to Emmy, who was watching him. She’d had another contraction during the phone call, and her hand remained draped through Harry’s after she’d squeezed it, trying to relieve her pain. “They’re nearly here.”

“Oh good.”

“I better call William now,” he said, dialing his brother’s number. “You okay?” he asked her, brushing a strand of hair off her face.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, pressing her cheek into his palm. “But can you let William tell your father?”

He smirked. “Want me all to yourself?”

Emmy rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin it.”

Harry was chuckling when William answered the phone. “Harry?”

“Hi, Wills.”

“Hi, you alright?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to let you know – Emmy’s gone into labour.”

“What?! Oh shit, that’s amazing! Oh wow, congratulations! It’s about time, eh?”

“You could say that,” Harry laughed. “We’re only about 2 centimeters right now, still got ages to go.”

“Oh, good luck. Tell her to breathe from me,” he said, the grin evident in his voice. “We’ll come and see you when the little one’s here.”

“I’ll call you as soon as we know anything new,” Harry said.

“I’m proud of you, Harry.”

He felt a lump grow in his throat, and he hastily swallowed it. “Thanks, William. Could you do me a favour? Could you tell Pa? And get Pa to tell Emmy’s family? We want them to know, but I don’t have the time to tell everyone-” He reached over and took Emmy’s hand just as another contraction started.

William heard her gasping down the phone. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just another contraction,” Harry said. “Will you do that?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll text you when they know so that you can, you know, announce it.”

“Oh shit, yeah.” Harry had totally forgotten that an announcement to the press and the public was on the cards, too. “Can you hurry? I have a feeling Edward will want to talk about that as soon as he gets here.”

“Sure, I’ll call them straight away.”

Emmy was having another contraction when Harry finally hung up and he scooted towards her, kneeling down by the edge of the bed and gently stroking her hair once she’d collapsed back onto the pillows.

“They’re getting worse,” she complained.

“It just means that she’s getting ready to join us,” he said softly, trying to soothe her. There was a knock on the door.

“Hello, how we doing?” Mary asked, coming in and smiling at Emmy.

“The contractions are hurting more,” Emmy said.

“Ooh, good, that’s perfectly normal,” Mary said, finding her place once more between Emmy’s legs. Harry instinctively moved towards Emmy’s head again. “Okay, we’re moving along nice and steadily. That’s three centimetres now.”

“Three?!” Emmy quoted, disbelieving. “Is that it?!”

“Afraid so,” Mary said. “Maybe put a DVD on? It’ll make the time pass quicker.”

Emmy stared up at her, almost disgusted by the suggestion. Mary, used to the angry wrath of pregnant women, turned to Harry. “Your secretaries have just arrived. Shall I send them in?”

“Please,” Harry said, trying to be as polite as possible to make up for Emmy’s glare. As soon as Mary left, Emmy tutted.

“Watch a DVD? Does she think I’ll be able to focus on a film with a human trying to force its way out of my vagina?!” she snapped irritably.

Harry chuckled, taking his seat once more. He didn’t want to say anything to upset her, but now the thought of watching some sport on the TV seemed quite nice.

Another knock on the door. Claire peered her head round.

“Hello, Mummy and Daddy,” she sang, dancing into the room followed by Edward.

“Not yet,” Harry said, grinning.

“Not anytime soon,” Emmy grumbled, scowling.

The two secretaries stopped at Emmy’s tone, eyebrows raising, and Harry waved them off. “We’re getting a little impatient, only three centimeters gone.”

“Oh, why do you want to rush it?” Claire said, beaming at Emmy in an attempt to soften the duchess up. “It obviously means she just doesn’t want to leave you, you’ve made such a nice home.”

“Yeah, it’s nice being inside of you,” Harry quipped, smirking.

Emmy tried to be angry at that, but his words tugged the corners of her mouth up. She looked at Claire. “Is everything okay at home?”

“Yep, I went in and checked and you did turn the stove off,” she said, looking at Harry. “Whatever you were cooking smelt lovely. Unfortunately, I had to bin anything left over.”

Harry sighed theatrically. “All that hard work, gone to waste.”

Edward laughed lightly, taking the other seat in the room. “The press have no idea you’re here. We’ve been monitoring Twitter, no one’s said a thing. But we need to announce something soon.”

“William’s phoning Pa, and Pa’s going to tell Alexander and Granny,” Harry explained. “Now you guys are here I’m going to go and call Skippy and Taylor, let them know. And then we can announce something.”

He got to his feet as he spoke, wiping his hands on his thighs, and Emmy whimpered slightly, reaching for him.

“Don’t leave me,” she said, her voice rising an octave in panic. Her blue eyes were wide with fear.

“Baby, I’ll be right outside,” he said gently, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Claire and Edward will take care of you. I’ll only be gone five minutes, you just shout if you need me.”

He slipped from the room, Emmy’s eyes on him as he went. Then she turned to Claire, who broke into an excited smile.

“This is exciting, isn’t it?” the secretary said. “She’s finally coming.”

Emmy smiled at that, but before she could enjoy the thought another contraction had engulfed her. She tensed her entire body, gripping onto the covers of the bed and biting down on her lip to stop herself from crying out. As the waves of pain subsided, she hurriedly puffed air in and out of her mouth. When she opened her eyes, Claire was watching sadly.

“I remember how horrid it was,” she said. “Just think of the little baby at the end of it.”

Emmy nodded slowly, her breathing still heavy.

“Okay, I suppose we should discuss the announcement,” Edward said, looking at Claire, his fingers ready to start typing on his tablet. “Just the generic? I think it’s safest.”

“What’s the generic?” Emmy asked weakly.

“The Duchess of Clarence has been admitted to St Mary’s Hospital in the early stages of labour. She arrived at the hospital around six o’clock this evening. The Duke of Clarence is with her.”

She shrugged. “Says everything we need it to say.”

“Exactly,” Edward said, smiling, evidently glad that it had not taken very long. “I’ll just run it past Harry when he comes back.”

“Will you tweet it from Kensington Palace?” Emmy said. She didn’t really care, but she wanted something to take her mind off the ordeal ahead of her.

“I’ll send it to Grant, who’ll tweet it from the KP twitter, yes,” he said, tapping away again. At that moment, Harry returned, and Emmy’s face lit up with relief. She instantly reached for him with both hands, and he moved into her hold, perching on the bed with her, snaking his arms round her as she cuddled into him.

“Harry, we have the announcement ready,” Edward said, then he read it out. “Does everyone who needs to know, know?”

“I phoned Skippy, and he text me to say he phoned Jake and Guy, so they know,” he said. “I told Taylor and Chris was there, so she told him. And William text me to let me know that Pa, Alexander and Granny and Grandpa all know. So go for it.”

They watched as Edward sent the e-mail to Grant, and then Harry went to stand by the window. He could peer down at the street full of photographers without moving the curtain and without being seen, and he examined them all, waiting for the moment when the Tweet would come through to see their reactions.

“Careful they don’t see you,” Emmy said, and then she gasped out loud. “These fucking contractions!” she hissed, scrunching up to ride out the pain.

“They’re getting closer together,” Harry observed.

“They hurt so much,” Emmy said. “Like someone is squeezing my uterus in their fist.”

He pretended like he knew what that even remotely felt like, taking her hand and letting her crush his in her grip. Finally, the contraction ended and Emmy sat back, panting. “Ugh.”

And then there was some sounds of commotion outside, some raised voices, some cheering from close by, and then some louder, more excited cheering from further away. All four of them looked round, and Harry broke into a grin. “Sounds like the announcement’s been released,” he said, turning to Emmy and smiling excitedly.

She smiled too, the sounds of the cheers outside lifting her spirits. Everyone was so excited for this baby, the entire country spurring her on. She reached down and stroked her bump gently.

“Anytime now, darling,” she murmured. “Any time now.”

[jaxdcnn-blog]

⟩  — ❛  BOILING POINT ::   SELF PARA  !

     laughter, even the question of singing heard in the distance. eight figures standing around fire and all jackson dunn could consider was--- is this my friday night now? doing something unaccountably good. he told himself time and time again, the only way to evoke change was the rip the poison from the hands and give it back to the people. burn it to the ground or watch it bleed dry. put heads upon spikes and pray that the men around them get the message.

his skin felt hot standing so close to the flame. he swore just a few seconds ago it wasn’t so huge. it was like burning a pile of furniture upstate back home. except, there was no furniture, and they weren’t upstate. anarchy. chaos. screaming men and chiming women who danced at the feet of what they believed was good. jackson just looked on and thought of a mother who wouldn’t be able to work. a teenager just trying to earn money for their first car. a retired teacher getting extra money to make up for their shit retirement plan. god bless the government, right?

jax took a step forward, he could feel the fire. he could feel it under his skin. it burned. capitalism, the unrepresented poor; everything came crashing down to this moment. they were the fire. this building was what they were eating up. if jax just walked closer maybe he could understand---

“ jackson dunn ! ”  a pound shook him from his thoughts. looking up, the woman in the robe had a stern face, which only lasted a moment before it softened.   “ listen, kid. we don’t want to ruin the rest of your life. you got stuck in a pretty bad spot with some pretty bad people. you didn’t start the fire. you didn’t even plan it. you were just there. “   she leans forward, quirked eyebrow.   “ you get this one chance--- you can make yourself better, or do something stupid again and end up in prison. it’s all up to you. “   she sits back, looking over her papers.   “ two years probation. “    slamming down the gavel, jax jumps at the sound, feeling the clasp on his shoulder from his lawyer; an old friend from high school his mother had.

jax barely remembered him. he moved to san diego for law school before jax even started the first grade. nice guy. jackson wonders if they weren’t just friends. if maybe he was doing this for emily dunn rather than him. his mother told him not to care, jax just doesn’t want his mother’s debts to be in his name.

“ nice work, jack. you hungry? “    the name rings true to just how long it’s been and he stands from his seat, turning around to look for his mom.

“ please don’t call me that. “   he says softly, his hands sweaty from having to listen to the case. all that nerve wracking information. jax doesn’t even know what his friends got. they’ve all been kept apart--- which was their call. and a good one at that.

jackson steps over the railing, not bothering with the proper entryway, to meet his mother halfway. from her tall, gangly crying body, he wraps his arms around her tightly, his face tucked into her shoulder. for the first time in a long time, jackson cried, in the courtroom, where he was granted freedom. he pushed the boundaries too far and had his taste of a life he didn’t want.

his mother rubs her hand over his back, his body trembling as the blouse gets clenched in his fingers.   she hushes him quietly as he weeps, collecting herself quickly so she could be there for her son. rocking him gently, she whispers to him softly.   “ it’s okay, baby. it’s okay. it’s all over now. “   soothing words he hasn’t heard since the funeral. words she hasn’t dealt since the last time he wept on her shoulder.

“ let’s get out of here. okay? “   she slowly pulls away from her son, wiping away the wetness from his cheek.    “ we can get something to eat. i know you haven’t touched anything in days. “

it’s a moment he hasn’t had since he was a child. using the back of his hand to wipe his cheek after her, nodding with pouting lips at her words. it reminds him of being a kid, crying at the kitchen table and her telling him all would be fine, and handing him lunch. jax doesn’t get this fragile around anyone, really. except emily dunn.

           consuming like a vaccum cleaner, jax had cleaned his plate in a matter of minutes. his mother suggested he pick bottomless pancakes and now he understood why. by the third plate he finally slowed down and his mother caught up to him, still on her first. he listened to her intently go on about their plans from now on. he always listened to her. no right mind would allow him to tune her out. she’d have his head.

“ i’m going to stay for another two weeks. “   she said plainly, and jackson set down his fork.

“ what? mom, you can’t. what about work? you can’t put your life on hold for me. “   he shook his head, his palms still sweaty from this morning, wiping across his jeans.   “ i won't allow that. “

she laughs, shaking her head as she cuts another piece of her pancake off.   “ well, it’s not your call to make. and thankfully, i barely have a life to begin with. i haven’t taken any vacation days and the ladies owe me this. you think i’m leaving your ass the second you’re let off? for fuck’s sake, jackson, you have four shirts and two pairs of pants. everything you own fits into your backpack. when i came here, you were living on the street and rolling around with a bunch of west coast cockroaches. “

emily dunn rarely called people cockroaches. they were worse than pigeons, and even below rats. she would always say; there’s a special place in hell for roaches.  it didn’t help she hated california and all the west coast pricks around her. she was a new york girl through and through. this place made her skin crawl.

but she had a point. his life was in shambles and the second he tried to fix it, he ran himself into the ground with self loathing and trouble. he needed her help to get his life in the right direction.

chewing on the fluffy pancake, she points his fork in his direction.   “ so after this, we’re going to mall, i’m buying you some clothes. while we’re there, you’re going to pick up some job applications. “

“ i already have a job. “    his eyebrows furrowed, hands folded together in his lap.

“ i know. you’re getting a second one. “    this wasn’t a choice. these were his mother’s terms. ones he would abide to more than he would to his probation officer. she’d have his ass, and he knew to respect that.   “ we’ll start looking for apartments tomorrow. i don’t care if you live in a pantry, you’re going to have a home by the time i leave. “

“ yes, ma’am. “    he nodded, picking his fork back up. another large chunk of pancakes is shoved into his mouth.

just as the conversation was rapping up, their server comes back with the coffee pot. her hair is long, brown, and tied back. she wears a cheery smile but he can tell she doesn’t mean it. it reminds him of the woman across the table when she was young--- when they were just kids. a little more curved, definite bags from under her eyes. her hip look perpetually popped, probably from balancing a child over it for so long. she looks like someone with a life beyond this one. she looks like someone who is just trying to make it through ‘til tomorrow.

jax slides his mug across the table, giving her a smile--- genuine too, in hopes that she’ll return it back.   and seeing that that smile was returned, he felt that fire in his skin return. set ablaze, he saw what he was hoping to see engulfed in the flames. right as she walked away, coffee pot in hand. he could see clearly now what the world was trying to tell him;

in the darkest of nights, where he’s certain evil lurks, the solution is to not cure fire with fire. as much as he wishes it not the case, you need evil in order to keep the world going. the great consumer mind--- that which kept this establishment alive, was the sole reason a mother had a job. it was the reason for the kid in the back learning to cook, with dreams of becoming a chef.

his fire was not for his cause. it was selfish. a one-sided cause only meant to fuel himself and his anger. what good was it if he only used it to hurt? he told the world he’d never harm with his fists again, but that didn’t exempt him from what his hands did elsewhere.

the past was all but that--- the past. his chest ached so much for it, and he wanted that to end. but what good was wanting it to end if he didn’t let it go? all the way to the beginning--- his father, mandy, the endless girls who stepped on him in high school, the pain he caused farida, blaise and her tyraids; what good was all of it if he didn’t take the evil, and see what it did for the good?

“ jackson? “    a snap of fingers in his face and he’s pulled away again for the second time today.   “ you sure are spacey today. you should drink more water. “

he snorts at her comment, taking the glass as suggested.   “ noted, “   and he took a long sip.

the journey to freedom would be a long, but rewarding one. he feels a weight lifted from his chest already.   “ i love you, mom. “   he says after he sets down his glass, smiling.   “ i appreciate all you’ve done for me. “

she looks up from her plate, about to take a bite before she sets the fork down, reaching over to pat his forearm.   “ i love you too, jackson. nothing in this world could tear me away from you. you’re my son. my only one, too. i want you to be happy and successful. i’m going to do what i can to make sure you get there. “

he knew there wasn’t an ounce in her lying about that.   “ thank you. “   he nods, wiping his hands across his jeans again.

she pulls away, taking the bite from her pancakes she didn’t hadn’t before.   “ you’re going to start showering more, too, you know. you always look like you crawled out of the trash. how are you going to get a girlfriend like that? “

he laughs, sitting back in the booth, picking at his pancake.   “ you’d be surprised, mom. some girls like that. “

she hums, rolling her eyes.   “ hard to believe. “

he missed her more than anything.