#god can you truly be a fan of anything if you turn at the nearest sign of hardship

[thewistlingbadger]

That last bit...oh I feel something. You're right. We've been judging the soup because of the label it has, the brand it has, and it's nothing like the first soup we had with that brand. We haven't been judging the soup by its actual contents, only by how it falls short in comparison to the new soup. I tasted the new soup today for the first time since the first time I tried it. And honestly? It's a pretty okay soup. I haven't finished my bowl yet but so far it's been enjoyable. Certain flavors do draw me back a bit but overall, so far into my bowl, it's not that bad. I'll always love the first soup I tried with this brand. I'll always feel a way about how this new soup isn't like the first soup. But...I can change. I can decide if I'm going to weep for my losses or look to the horizon with appreciation for what I received. And today I've decided that the mourning period has passed. It's a new day. And I say we give season two a fair chance. We don't blindly love or hate it. We don't consistently compare it to season one and we also don't forget its roots. We simply take it for what it is.

The time has come. Season one and season two of arcane are just completely different shows. And maybe we just have to live with that. Maybe when we accept the fact that it wasn't we were promised, was we wanted or expected, then we'll be able to live freely and perhaps even get some enjoyable out of it. There's a lot of things to shit on about season 2, but honestly thinking about r everything they fucked up has been exhausted and I've done it for almost 2 months now.

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C6)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (8.8K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

06: O-live-You And Other Things That Could've Been Said

The moment we stepped outside, the heat hit us like a solid wall. The sun was already high in the sky, radiating a fierce, unrelenting intensity that made the air shimmer like a mirage. It felt like stepping into an oven, the kind where the heat clings to your skin and settles in your bones, refusing to let go. The cobblestones beneath our feet were warm to the touch, and the faint breeze that occasionally swept by offered little relief, more like a faint exhale of hot air than anything truly cooling.

Mae immediately fanned herself with her hand, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun. “Oh my god, it’s not even ten yet and I’m already melting. I swear, this island is trying to roast us alive.”

Edie tugged at the collar of her tank top, flapping it to get some air. “I don’t know how people live like this. I can feel my makeup sliding off my face. At this rate, I’m going to look like a Picasso painting by noon.”

Hattie pulled her hair into a messy bun, beads of sweat already forming at her temples. “We’re officially in a sauna. A beautiful, picturesque sauna that’s actively trying to kill us with heatstroke.”

Oscar wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his shirt clinging to his back. “You guys are such drama queens,” he said, though his own forehead was glistening with sweat. “It’s not that bad. Just… extremely, painfully hot.”

Mae shot him an incredulous look, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Not that bad? I can practically see the soles of my shoes melting into the pavement. If I pass out, just drag me to the nearest air-conditioned place and leave me there.”

Oscar chuckled, glancing over at me. “You holding up okay, or should we start taking bets on who drops first?”

I fanned myself with my hand, feeling the heat radiate off the ground in waves. “I’m fine, but I might have to invest in one of those little handheld fans soon. Or, you know, a personal ice bath.”

Oscar shot me a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling despite the beads of sweat gathering at his temples. “An ice bath, huh? That’s my kind of recovery. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to cooling down after a race. Maybe I could show you how it’s done—F1 style.”

I rolled my eyes, but the smile on my face was impossible to hide. “Oh, so what, we’re going to do some pit stops for hydration and tire changes along the way too?”

Oscar laughed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Only if you’re up for it. I can be your personal pit crew. We’ll keep it professional, of course… until we get to the ice bath part.”

Mae groaned loudly, rolling her eyes as she overheard. “Please, Oscar. Save the flirting for after I’ve downed a liter of water and found some shade. We’re all dying here, and you’re still trying to turn this into a date.”

Oscar just shrugged, unbothered, and shot me a wink. “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the full experience. And hey, if it involves ice baths and a little friendly competition, I’m all in.”

I nudged him playfully, feeling a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the weather. “Well, if you can handle the heat on the track, I’m sure you can handle a little morning market stroll. But I’m holding you to that ice bath promise—I might just need it after this.”

Oscar smirked, leaning in closer. “You got it. I’ll even make sure it’s got all the F1 essentials—like speed, precision, and just enough flirtation to keep things interesting.”

His teasing sent a shiver down my spine despite the scorching heat, and for a moment, I almost forgot about the sun beating down on us. But then another wave of hot air hit, reminding us all just how relentless the day was going to be.

Hattie, overhearing our exchange, fanned herself dramatically and shook her head. “Alright, you two, keep it cool… literally. We’re about five minutes away from turning into human puddles, and I’m not prepared to deal with that kind of meltdown.”

We all laughed, the tension easing as we continued down the path, our steps a little lighter despite the oppressive heat. And as Oscar’s playful banter echoed in my ears, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a little F1-style cool-down wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Edie let out a groan, shielding her eyes with her hand. “At this point, I’d settle for a bucket of ice water to the face. I don’t care about looking cute; I just want to survive.”

As we trudged along, the heat wrapped around us like a heavy blanket, every breath feeling thick and labored. The chatter continued, but now it was peppered with complaints and exaggerated groans, each of us trying to find some humor in the absurdity of the oppressive sun. The market couldn’t come soon enough, and as we walked, we silently vowed to find the nearest shade—or, even better, a cold drink—before any of us truly combusted under the relentless summer blaze.

Oscar fell into step beside me, close enough that our arms brushed as we walked. “Bet you five euros Mae buys something completely useless within the first ten minutes.”

I grinned, nudging him lightly with my shoulder. “I’ll take that bet. But I think it’s going to be Edie who cracks first. She’s got that look in her eye—like she’s on a mission to buy something she doesn’t need.”

Oscar laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re on. This might be the easiest money I’ve ever made.”

We continued down the winding path, the sun already blazing above us and making every surface shimmer with heat. The air was so thick and warm, it felt like walking through a giant hairdryer, and every step seemed to bring a fresh wave of stickiness that clung to our skin. The occasional shade from an overhanging tree felt like a blessed oasis, but those moments were fleeting, and soon we were back in the relentless glare.

Mae groaned dramatically, pulling her hair up into a messy bun as she fanned her neck with her hand. “I swear, this is how people end up in documentaries about survival. If I faint, just drag me to the nearest gelato stand.”

Edie, already looking flushed and slightly disheveled, tugged at her tank top. “Forget gelato; I’m about two minutes away from dunking my head in the nearest fountain. I can’t believe people live like this.”

Hattie chimed in, her voice laced with mock despair. “I feel like I’m being slow-cooked. If this is a test of endurance, I’m failing spectacularly. Someone tell me why we thought coming out in this heat was a good idea?”

Oscar glanced at me, his smile wicked. “Don’t worry, everyone. I’ve got it all under control. We’ll get to the market, find some shade, and then maybe I’ll set up an ice bath demo right there in the middle of the square. I’m sure it’ll be the highlight of everyone’s day.”

I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. “Oh yeah, nothing says local culture like a makeshift ice bath. You’ll have an audience in no time, and I’m pretty sure they’d crown you the king of market day.”

Oscar flashed me a grin, his hand brushing mine as we walked. “As long as you’re there to cheer me on, I’m ready to make it happen. We can call it ‘Beat the Heat: The Oscar Edition.’”

Mae, overhearing us, rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I’m not paying to see that, but I’ll definitely take a video. It’s going viral, for sure.”

Oscar shot her a mock glare. “Only if you promise to catch my good side. And for the record, I’m pretty sure this ice bath idea is going to save lives today.”

Edie snorted, already scanning the stalls in the distance as the market came into view. “Oscar, you’re not saving lives. You’re just trying to impress your new audience,” she teased, giving him a playful nudge. “But hey, if it gets us a cold drink faster, I’m all for it.”

The market was a sensory overload in the best possible way—vibrant stalls overflowing with fresh fruits, handmade trinkets, and colorful textiles flapping in the light breeze. The mingling aromas of spices, fresh bread, and grilling meats filled the air, and every few steps, a vendor would call out to us, trying to lure us in with their wares. The place was alive with people—locals haggling with vendors, tourists snapping photos, and children darting between stalls with sticky fingers and delighted grins.

Oscar and I wandered through the aisles, pausing occasionally to admire a particularly colorful display of woven baskets or to sample a piece of sweet, juicy melon that a vendor insisted we try. It was a chaotic, joyful atmosphere, and despite the heat, I found myself genuinely enjoying the experience.

That is, until we reached a stall filled with every kind of olive you could imagine. From glossy black olives marinated in herbs to bright green ones stuffed with garlic, the selection was endless. Oscar, with his usual mischievous glint, picked up a toothpick and speared an olive, holding it out to me.

“Come on, try this one. I promise, it’s the best thing you’ll ever taste,” he said, his voice dripping with the confidence of someone who’d already decided the outcome.

I eyed the olive suspiciously, but the look on his face was so hopeful and endearing that I couldn’t refuse. I took the olive, popped it into my mouth, and almost immediately regretted my decision. The taste hit me like a freight train—intensely salty, bitter, and pungent, with a weirdly spicy kick that felt like it was attacking my taste buds from all sides.

I gagged, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was no use. My eyes watered, and I felt the immediate, burning need to spit it out. But before I could, I accidentally inhaled, choking on the olive’s briny juice in the most unattractive way possible. I doubled over, coughing and sputtering, as the taste continued to assault my senses.

Oscar, realizing what had happened, tried to help by patting me on the back, but his well-meaning thumps only made things worse. I stumbled forward, knocking into a rack of precariously balanced jars filled with pickled vegetables. The entire display wobbled ominously before tipping over with a loud crash, sending jars shattering to the ground and splattering their contents all over my sandals.

“Bloody fuck!” Oscar yelped, jumping back as brine and pickled peppers splashed up around us. He reached out, grabbing my arm to steady me, but we were both already slipping in the mess.

I finally managed to spit out the offending olive, doubling over in laughter as I wiped tears from my eyes. “Oh my god, that was—what the hell was in that olive? I think I just tasted hell!”

Oscar, trying to suppress his own laughter, looked down at the mess we’d made. “I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t think it would be that bad! You looked like you were being possessed by some ancient demon.”

“Note to self,” I managed between gasps, “never, ever take an olive recommendation from you again.”

Oscar grinned sheepishly, still holding onto my arm to keep us both from slipping. “Deal. But hey, at least it’s a market memory we won’t forget anytime soon.”

We worked together to gather the scattered jars, our hands brushing occasionally, sending small electric jolts through my already flustered system. The vendor, a grumpy old man with a thick mustache and a fierce scowl, continued muttering under his breath, clearly unimpressed with our attempts to make amends. I offered him a sheepish smile, trying not to slip on the brine-soaked pavement, while Oscar dug into his wallet, pulling out a few euros to cover the damage.

As we finished up, Oscar turned to me with that infuriatingly charming grin of his. “Well, that’s one way to make an impression. I’d say we’re officially banned from the olive section.”

I laughed, wiping my hands on my dress, which was now speckled with flecks of pickling spices. “At this rate, we’re going to get banned from the whole market. I mean, who knew olives could be so dangerous?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Dangerous? I’d say they were just misunderstood. But hey, if you want to blame me for this epic disaster, I’ll take the fall.” He struck a dramatic pose, hand over his heart, like a martyr taking the blame for a noble cause. “I, Oscar from Australia, solemnly swear to never force-feed you another olive as long as we both shall live.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress my grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re apologizing. Otherwise, I’d still be gagging over that monstrosity you made me eat.”

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a mock whisper. “Lucky? I think you’re just softening up to me, olive incident and all.”

I pushed him lightly, but the warmth in his gaze didn’t falter, and I found myself caught in the easy rhythm of his teasing. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head. But you’re definitely going to owe me an ice cream after this.”

Oscar smirked, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Ice cream? Please, we’re in Greece. You mean gelato,” he corrected, his voice dripping with playful mockery. He stepped closer, his tone teasing but his proximity making my heart skip a beat. “And trust me, I know the best place. Only the finest for my olive-battle buddy.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “Alright, Mr. Gelato Expert. Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, we were standing at a small gelato stand, the sweet, creamy scent wafting through the air, instantly making me forget the earlier chaos. Oscar handed me a scoop of hazelnut gelato, then grabbed his own, a vibrant pistachio. As he took a triumphant bite, a dollop of green gelato smeared right onto his nose, turning the flirty moment into an adorably ridiculous one.

I stifled a laugh, trying to keep my composure as he continued to talk, completely unaware of the green splotch on his face. “See? This is real dessert. None of that commercialized stuff—”

I burst out laughing, and he paused, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Uh, you’ve got a little… something,” I said, pointing to my own nose as a hint.

He tried to swipe at it but missed, smearing it even more. “This?”

I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from laughing too hard. “Here, let me.” Without thinking, I reached up, my fingers gently brushing his nose as I wiped away the sticky gelato. The touch was brief, but it was enough to make my pulse quicken.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like the busy market around us had faded away, leaving just the two of us in a little bubble of shared laughter and unspoken tension. Oscar’s gaze softened, the playful glint giving way to something deeper as he leaned in slightly, our faces close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “I think I’m going to have to spill gelato on myself more often if it gets you this close.”

I laughed softly, still feeling the tingling of where his nose had brushed against my fingertips. “You’re ridiculous,” I said, but there was no hiding the smile on my face. “But if that’s your plan, maybe try keeping it on your gelato next time.”

Oscar chuckled, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief as he leaned in just a little closer, closing the already narrow gap between us. “Can’t make any promises,” he said, his voice dipping into that teasingly low, flirtatious tone that sent a familiar thrill coursing through me. “Besides, I’m not sure gelato is half as fun without a little mess.”

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading through my chest made it impossible to hide the grin tugging at my lips. “I’m starting to think you do it on purpose,” I said, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably as Oscar’s thumb grazed a stray bit of gelato from the corner of my mouth, his touch lingering just a beat longer than necessary.

He shrugged, still impossibly close, his grin broadening. “What can I say? Keeps things interesting.” His voice softened, and for a brief moment, his gaze flickered to my lips before meeting my eyes again, his expression a mix of playfulness and something deeper that made my heart skip. “But I have to admit, I’ve got pretty good taste.”

I felt my cheeks flush under his steady gaze, the space between us charged with an almost tangible electricity. The casualness of his words belied the underlying tension simmering just beneath the surface, each flirty remark and lingering touch a dare to step closer, to push the boundaries just a little more.

“Yeah?” I challenged, tilting my head slightly, unable to resist the pull of the moment. “Well, just so you know, you’re not the only one with good taste.”

Oscar's eyes darkened with a mix of intrigue and something more playful, his smile never wavering as he scooted closer, his thigh brushing against mine on the impossibly narrow bench. The space between us was almost nonexistent now, our legs tangled in a way that felt intimate, unspoken, and thrillingly reckless. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the brush of his arm against mine sending little jolts of electricity through me.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he said, his voice low and edged with that teasing drawl that made my pulse quicken. He leaned in closer, so close that I could feel his breath, warm and sweet, grazing my cheek. “But I think I like hearing you admit it.”

The proximity, the way his eyes held mine without flinching, had my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I tried to play it cool, but the intensity of his gaze, the closeness of his body, made every breath feel charged with possibility.

“You’re really pushing your luck,” I said, my voice coming out softer than I intended, almost breathless. His knee nudged mine, a playful, subtle reminder of how little space was left between us.

Oscar smirked, scooting even closer, his leg pressing against mine with a deliberate pressure that sent my nerves into overdrive. “Maybe,” he whispered, his lips barely an inch away from my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “But something tells me you’re not exactly complaining.”

The words hung between us, laced with a flirty challenge that dared me to push back, to match his game. I tried to muster a witty comeback, but all I could focus on was the feel of his thigh against mine, his shoulder brushing my arm, the intoxicating closeness that made the world around us blur.

“Bold assumption,” I managed to say, but my voice wavered, betraying the flutter of excitement thrumming beneath my calm facade. “What makes you think you’re so irresistible?”

Oscar grinned, his confidence unwavering as he leaned in, closing the gap until his lips were just a breath away from mine, close enough that I could feel the heat of his smile. “Call it a hunch,” he murmured, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “Or maybe it’s just that look you give me every time I get this close.”

My breath hitched, and I found myself leaning in without meaning to, drawn to the warmth of his presence, the challenge in his eyes. His teasing was relentless, but it was the way he looked at me—like this was all just foreplay for something much bigger—that left me breathless, my heart racing as if daring me to make the next move.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” I said, my voice a shaky whisper, half accusation, half something else entirely.

Oscar’s grin widened, his thumb brushing my wrist in a touch so light it sent a ripple of warmth through my whole body. “And you love it,” he said simply, the certainty in his voice leaving no room for doubt. And maybe, just maybe, he was right.

My heart pounded in my chest, the air between us thick with unspoken tension, and for a split second, I thought he might kiss me. But just as the moment reached its peak, a loud honk blasted through the air, startling us both.

We jerked apart, whipping our heads around to see a vendor on a tiny motorbike, zigzagging through the crowded market with a basket of fresh bread strapped precariously to the back. He shouted something in Greek that I couldn’t quite catch, but the tone made it clear—get out of the way or risk getting run over by a man determined to deliver his breakfast goods.

Oscar laughed, breaking the spell as he scooted back just enough to avoid a collision. “Well, that’s one way to ruin the mood,” he said, still chuckling as he raked a hand through his hair, his confidence momentarily deflated by the absurdity of the scene.

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the tension between us dissolving into sheer ridiculousness. “Guess the universe decided you needed to cool it,” I teased, nudging him lightly with my shoulder. “Pretty sure you just got cockblocked by a bread guy.”

Oscar held up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Alright, alright. I get it. Even the universe thinks I’m too much to handle.” He leaned back against the bench, shaking his head as he watched the motorbike weave away into the crowd. “Who knew my biggest competition would be a guy delivering carbs?”

I snorted, trying to stifle my laughter. “Hey, everyone’s gotta eat. Maybe take it as a sign to slow your roll.”

Before Oscar could respond with another flirty comeback, the sound of hurried footsteps approached, followed by a burst of laughter. Suddenly, Mae leaped onto Oscar’s back, her arms flailing as she yelled, “Revenge is sweet!” Oscar staggered forward, caught completely off guard, and nearly dropped his gelato.

“What the—Mae!” Oscar exclaimed, half-laughing, half-groaning as he tried to regain his balance. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Mae grinned wickedly, clinging to his shoulders like a monkey. “Just evening the score for this morning’s stealth attack, big brother. You’re not the only one who can sneak up on people.”

Hattie and Edie appeared behind them, both wearing matching amused smirks. Hattie folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve been looking for you two all over. Thought you’d ditched us for some secret gelato rendezvous.”

Edie nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, Mae said you were probably off flirting somewhere. Turns out she was right.”

I could feel my cheeks flush as I glanced at Oscar, who was still trying to pry Mae off his back without spilling his gelato. “Us? Flirting?” I said, feigning innocence. “We were just… enjoying our ice cream. Totally innocent.”

Mae finally hopped off Oscar’s back, adjusting her shirt with a triumphant smile. “Sure, sure. We believe you. But don’t think we didn’t see that little moment just now. If you’re gonna get all cute and flirty, at least invite us next time so we can take notes.”

Oscar rubbed his shoulder, shaking his head at Mae’s antics. “You’re all just jealous of my natural charm. Can’t a guy enjoy gelato in peace?”

Hattie smirked, nudging Edie. “Or maybe we just like keeping you on your toes. After all, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not too distracted by… certain distractions.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. “Don’t worry, girls. I’ve got it all under control. And besides, someone’s gotta keep him from knocking over gelato carts.”

Oscar shot me a look of mock betrayal, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Great, now I’ve got all of you ganging up on me. But hey, if it gets Mae off my back—literally—I’ll take it.”

Mae patted his shoulder, still grinning. “Aw, don’t be such a baby. We’re just here to keep you grounded. And if that means ambushing you from time to time, then so be it.”

Oscar shook his head, laughing under his breath. “You all have too much fun at my expense.”

Hattie, always ready with a quick retort, smirked as she picked up a napkin to wipe some melted gelato off the bench. “Hey, it’s only fair. You spent the entire morning trying to charm the life out of everyone. We’re just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

Edie leaned against the bench, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “And let’s be real, Oscar—keeping you grounded is practically a full-time job. It’s like herding a cat with a God complex.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, alright. I get it—I’m officially outnumbered.”

Mae grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “Oh, definitely. But you love it. You wouldn’t know what to do without us.”

Oscar glanced at me, his grin widening. “Yeah, well, I think I’ve got some backup now. Someone’s gotta be on my side.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Don’t look at me. I’m just here for the gelato and entertainment. You’re on your own.”

The sisters burst into laughter, and Oscar let out an exaggerated sigh. “See? This is my life now—betrayed by everyone I care about.”

“Hey,” Mae said, elbowing him in the side. “That’s the price you pay for being charming and annoyingly persistent.”

Oscar slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a playful side hug. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s a small price to pay for being this irresistible.”

Edie rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. “There he goes again. We can’t take you anywhere.”

I glanced at the bags the sisters were carrying, each one bursting with colorful trinkets, snacks, and what looked like the most random assortment of souvenirs imaginable. “So, what did you guys get? Anything worth bragging about?”

Hattie held up a woven fan, waving it dramatically in front of her face. “Essential survival gear,” she declared. “If I have to hear Mae complain about the heat one more time, this thing’s getting thrown at her.”

Mae shot her a look, then pulled out a tiny carved wooden turtle with a goofy grin etched into its face. “I got this little guy. He’s the new mascot of our misadventures. And don’t you dare say he’s useless, because I’m emotionally attached now.”

Edie, not to be outdone, produced a pair of wildly patterned sunglasses that looked like they’d been pulled straight out of a 1980s music video. “And I got these. They were practically begging to be bought.”

I grinned, exchanging a knowing look with Oscar. “Well, well, looks like I win the bet. Edie cracked first.” I held out my hand toward Oscar, palm up. “That’ll be five euros, please.”

Oscar sighed dramatically, fishing the crumpled bill out of his pocket. “I should’ve known better than to bet against your instincts.” He slapped the money into my hand, feigning disappointment. “Enjoy your winnings.”

Mae’s jaw dropped, her eyes darting between us. “Wait, wait, wait. You guys bet on us?”

Oscar shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s all in good fun. I just had a feeling Edie wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of something ridiculous.”

Edie clutched her sunglasses to her chest in mock outrage. “You bet on us? What are we, a reality show now? Next thing I know, there’ll be a scoreboard tracking all our bad decisions.”

Hattie laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I feel betrayed, but also kinda proud. At least you guys know us well enough to make accurate predictions.”

Mae crossed her arms, a mock pout on her lips. “I would’ve bet on Edie too, though. She can’t go five minutes without buying something weird.”

I smirked, pocketing my euros. “Don’t worry, it’s all out of love. And hey, at least now I’m five euros richer.”

Oscar slung his arm around my shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But I’m coming back for that money, just you wait.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the easy camaraderie between us all. “Well, you’re welcome to try, but I think I’ll keep my winning streak going.”

As the playful energy buzzed between us, we decided to split up again—Mae and Edie darting off towards a stall selling handcrafted jewelry, and Hattie wandering towards a display of local ceramics. Oscar nudged me, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward a boutique nestled at the end of the market. “Let’s check out that shop. Looks like your kind of place.”

I followed his gaze to a quaint little boutique tucked into a narrow alley, its entrance framed by delicate vines of bougainvillea spilling over the roof. The shop’s exterior was painted in soft pastels, and a whimsical, hand-painted sign above the door read Marina’s Closet in elegant, looping script. The glass windows were filled with a curated display of dresses, sun hats, and accessories, each item carefully arranged to catch the eye. Through the window, I could see racks of brightly colored clothes, twinkling with the promise of a well-spent afternoon.

As we stepped inside, the cool air was a welcome relief from the heat outside. The shop was small but charming, filled with an eclectic mix of elegant summer dresses, flowy skirts, and delicate blouses in fabrics that ranged from soft linens to airy silks. The walls were painted a soft blush pink, and the space was filled with carefully arranged plants, their green leaves trailing down the walls and adding to the shop’s intimate, garden-like feel. Soft music played overhead—a mix of gentle acoustic and soft pop that set a relaxing, dreamy mood.

Antique mirrors lined the walls, their ornate, gold-gilded frames reflecting the soft light of the hanging lanterns that gave the boutique a warm, cozy glow. Shelves displayed colorful accessories—scarves, statement necklaces, and wide-brimmed hats, each one more elegant than the last. The floor was a mix of polished wood and a plush rug in the center, creating a sense of luxury and comfort all at once.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled as he glanced over the selection, his smile widening as he pulled out a flowing dress in a delicate shade of dusty rose. “This place is pretty cool. It’s got that ‘I know I’m expensive’ vibe,” he joked, running his thumb over the soft fabric. “But hey, nothing wrong with dreaming a little, right?”

I nodded, trailing behind him as he moved down the aisle. My fingers brushed against a rack of silk blouses and embroidered tops, each more intricate than the last. I picked up a dress—a light blue number with delicate floral patterns stitched along the hem—and flipped the tag over, my eyes widening at the price. “Yeah, it’s definitely out of my usual budget. I mean, I love window shopping, but this stuff? This is like, ‘Do I need to sell a kidney?’ territory.”

Oscar glanced at me, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he gently took the dress from my hand, holding it up against me. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” he said, his tone playful but with a hint of seriousness. “And besides, it looks amazing. You should try it on.”

I hesitated, looking around at the boutique’s carefully curated atmosphere, every detail screaming exclusivity. “I don’t know, Oscar. This isn’t exactly my kind of place. I’m more of a ‘sale rack at Zara’ kind of girl. And these prices? Let’s just say they’re a bit much.”

But Oscar didn’t seem to care about the price tags or my hesitations. He found another dress—a soft lavender one with a cinched waist and delicate lace detailing at the shoulders—and held it out to me, his grin never faltering. “Just try it on. What’s the harm? It’s not every day you get to play dress-up in a fancy place like this.” he said, his voice casual but sincere. “Try it on. What’s the harm in that?”

I hesitated, glancing at the price tag again. “Oscar, this stuff is like... ridiculously overpriced. I don’t think trying on a dress I can’t afford is gonna make me feel better.”

He grinned, nudging me gently. “Come on, it’s just for fun. And besides, you never know—maybe you’ll fall in love with something, and I’ll just have to figure out how to make it yours.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “Fine, but only because you’re annoyingly convincing.” I took the dress from his hands and headed toward the fitting room, the soft fabric cool against my skin.

Inside the fitting room, I slipped into the dress, feeling the way the light material draped elegantly over my figure. It was simple yet stunning, with delicate lace detailing along the neckline and a flowing skirt that brushed just above my ankles. I smoothed my hands over the fabric, feeling unexpectedly confident as I stepped out to show Oscar.

His eyes lit up as he saw me, and he leaned back against one of the mirrored walls, his gaze roaming appreciatively. “Wow,” he said, the word coming out in a breathless sort of way that made my cheeks warm. “You look... amazing.”

I twirled slightly, watching the dress flare out around me. “Yeah? You don’t think it’s too much?”

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Not at all. It’s perfect. But let’s see more—you’re not done yet.”

Encouraged by his reaction, I tried on a few more dresses—a pastel blue sundress with delicate embroidery that hugged my waist and a soft, buttery yellow wrap dress with fluttery sleeves. Each time I stepped out, Oscar’s praise came easy, his eyes bright with genuine admiration that left me feeling both flattered and slightly overwhelmed.

I stood before the mirror, dressed in the last outfit—a bold, deep green dress with a plunging neckline and an effortlessly elegant cut that made me feel like I was stepping into another world. I turned slightly, admiring the way the color brought out the warmth in my skin. “I can’t decide,” I admitted, biting my lip as I looked at the three dresses hanging beside me. “They’re all so beautiful, but...”

Oscar stepped closer, his reflection appearing beside mine in the mirror. “Why choose?” he said lightly, his hand brushing my shoulder as he gazed at the dresses. “You look incredible in all of them.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Oscar, that’s not how this works. These dresses are... well, let’s just say they’re not in my usual shopping cart. I have to pick one, and even that feels like a splurge.”

But Oscar just shrugged, his smile turning teasing. “Or you could let me handle it. Consider it my treat.”

I blinked, turning to face him fully. “No way. Oscar, you can’t just—”

He cut me off with a playful roll of his eyes, already reaching for his wallet. “I can and I will. Besides, you’re the one who’s been keeping me entertained all day. It’s the least I can do.”

I watched, half in shock, half in admiration as he took all three dresses to the counter, handing over his card with a charming smile. The shopkeeper, a kindly older woman with a twinkle in her eye, rang up the total, her knowing smile suggesting she’d seen this kind of gesture before.

“Oscar, you’re ridiculous,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice light but unable to fully hide how touched I was. “But... thank you.”

He handed me the bags with a wink, his fingers lingering against mine for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re welcome. And besides, now I get to see you in all three. Totally worth it.”

I laughed, feeling the weight of the dresses in my hands and the warmth of Oscar’s gesture settle in my chest. It was more than just a shopping trip—it was another shared moment, another flirty, unplanned adventure that made everything feel a little more magical.

“You really are something else, you know that?” I said, shaking my head but smiling all the same.

Oscar grinned, stepping closer as we made our way out of the boutique. “Yeah, but I’m your something else. And I think that’s working out pretty well.”

As we stepped out of the boutique and back into the bustling market, I felt the weight of Oscar’s generosity with every step, the boutique bags brushing against my legs. It was more than just the dresses; it was the way he effortlessly turned a simple shopping trip into something memorable, something that lingered in the air between us like an unspoken promise.

I tried to brush off the fluttery feeling that had settled in my chest, but it was no use. This thing with Oscar—it was different from anything I’d ever known. I’d had my share of flings before, little sparks that fizzled out as quickly as they began. Those past connections had always felt manageable, easy to keep at arm’s length. But with Oscar, nothing felt sensible anymore. The boundaries I’d set for myself, the rules I used to follow, they all seemed to blur in his presence.

Every time I looked at him, it was like the ground had shifted beneath me.

The truth of it all was incomprehensible, a quiet realization that settled in as we strolled through the market together.

I glanced at him, watching the way he moved with such easy confidence, the way he could make a simple afternoon feel like an adventure. It was unsettling, exhilarating, and it was all him.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled with a playful intensity, his voice dipping into that teasing, confident tone that always sent my heart racing. “Just so you know,” he murmured, leaning in closer, “if you keep looking at me like that, I won’t have a choice but to make you lay all your love on me.”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, caught between the thrill of his words and the undeniable pull that kept drawing us closer. “Is that a challenge?” I shot back, my smile betraying the flutter of excitement I couldn’t quite hide.

Oscar’s grin widened, his thumb tracing a light, teasing line along my wrist. “Not a challenge, sweetheart—just a promise.”

I stood there, momentarily stunned by the warmth of his words, feeling the electricity of the moment crackle between us. Before I could even think to respond, Oscar reached out casually and took the shopping bags from my hands, his movements smooth and effortless. It was such a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes—his natural ease, the way he so confidently stepped in without asking, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hey,” I protested lightly, reaching to take them back, but he just shook his head, flashing me that boyish, infuriatingly charming smile.

“I’ve got it,” he said, his tone light but firm, like there was no room for argument. “Besides, it’s only fair. You did all the hard work trying them on. I’m just here to look pretty and carry the bags.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress the grin tugging at my lips. “Yeah, sure. Because that was so exhausting for you.”

Oscar shrugged, adjusting the bags in his hands as if they weighed nothing. “Hey, I’m just doing my part. You get to rock the dresses, and I get to be the guy who made you smile today. Seems like a fair trade to me.”

Oscar glanced over, catching my gaze, and his smile softened. “I mean it, you know. You look amazing. And I’m glad you let me do this,” he said, giving the bags a little lift as if to emphasize his point.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, the sincerity in my voice matching the look in his eyes. “Not just for the dresses, but… for today.”

He winked, nudging me lightly with his shoulder as we continued down the cobblestone street. “Anytime. And hey, just remember—you don’t have to lay all your love on me. But I’m here, just in case you feel like it.”

We regrouped with the rest of the crew at a quaint, sun-soaked café nestled on a side street, its tiny tables spilling out onto the cobblestones under the shade of a vine-draped pergola. The café looked like it had been plucked straight from a movie set—warm, rustic, and effortlessly charming, with mismatched chairs and handwritten chalkboard menus propped against the stone walls. Mae, Hattie, and Edie were already seated, chattering animatedly over a pitcher of iced tea, the condensation pooling lazily on the table in the afternoon heat.

“There you are,” Mae called out, waving dramatically as we approached. “We were about to send out a search party. Or, you know, just assume you two were off kissing ass and making out somewhere.”

Oscar chuckled, pulling out a chair for me with a gallant flourish before dropping into the seat next to mine. “Who, us? We’d never. Just two innocent tourists enjoying the sights,” he said with mock innocence, shooting me a playful side-eye that made my heart do a little flip.

Hattie leaned forward, smirking as she sipped her drink. “Innocent, huh? I don’t know, Oscar. The way you two keep disappearing, it’s so suspicious from my point of view.”

Edie snorted, pushing a basket of fresh bread toward us. “Yeah, and we’re all just here for the free show. So, did you buy out the whole boutique, or was it just a private shopping spree for two?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my grin. “Very funny. It was strictly a ‘window shopping with a side of unsolicited fashion advice’ kind of trip.” I shot Oscar a look, remembering how he’d nudged me into trying on almost everything in the shop.

Oscar leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head, looking far too pleased with himself. “What can I say? I’ve got a knack for knowing what looks good. And hey, she made it easy.”

Mae scoffed, breaking off a piece of bread and popping it into her mouth. “Easy? Oscar, the way you two were eyeing each other, I’m surprised we didn’t walk in on a full-blown fashion montage. Music and all.”

Oscar raised his hands in surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? She makes everything look good.”

I felt my cheeks warm under his praise, and I tried to keep my composure as I reached for a glass of water. “Don’t encourage him,” I said, trying to sound exasperated but failing as a smile crept onto my lips. “He’s already got enough of an ego without you guys cheering him on.”

Edie chuckled, nudging Mae. “See? I told you. They’re basically one flirty comment away from starring in their own rom-com.”

Oscar shot Edie a mock glare, then turned back to me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, if this is a rom-com, then I guess that makes you the leading lady,” he said, his voice dipping into that teasing, flirty tone that never failed to make my heart skip.

"Your shit is so corny dude, lighten the fuck up," Edie sighed, burying her head in her palms. Mae slapped her head, giggling furiously.

I snorted, grabbing a menu and pretending to study it intently. “Great, then I demand script approval. No more surprise elbow attacks, and definitely no scenes where I have to chase you down a street.”

As I pretended to study the menu, Oscar leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of my choices. “You know, I’d recommend the moussaka. It’s practically a work of art on a plate.”

“Artful moussaka? Really?” I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’ll stick to the classic spanakopita. At least it can’t judge me.”

“Spanakopita it is, then,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll get the same. Mae, Hattie, Edie, what are you guys having?”

“Just the usual—some dolmas and a slice of that legendary baklava,” Mae said, looking gleeful. “I’m here for dessert first.”

“I’ll do the baklava too!” Edie piped up. “We can share a slice and get a second for later—strategic planning, you know.”

As Hattie scrolled through the menu, her expression turned mischievous. “I’ll have the chef’s special, but only if you promise to steal a bite of mine, Oscar.”

“Only if you promise to share the secret recipe,” he replied with a wink.

Just as we were about to place our order, a waiter approached our table. “Ready to order?”

We all chimed in, each person stating their choices. I noticed a sudden flurry of confusion on the waiter’s face as he scribbled down our orders.

“Uh, so that’s two spanakopita, one moussaka, two baklava, and… the chef’s special?” he recapped, looking uncertain.

“Right!” Mae said enthusiastically.

As I pretended to study the menu, Oscar leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of my choices. “You know, I’d recommend the moussaka. It’s practically a work of art on a plate.”

“Artful moussaka? Really?” I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’ll stick to the classic spanakopita. At least it can’t judge me.”

“Spanakopita it is, then,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll get the same. Mae, Hattie, Edie, what are you guys having?”

“Just the usual—some dolmas and a slice of that legendary baklava,” Mae said, looking gleeful. “I’m here for dessert first.”

“I’ll do the baklava too!” Edie piped up. “We can share a slice and get a second for later—strategic planning, you know.”

As Hattie scrolled through the menu, her expression turned mischievous. “I’ll have the chef’s special, but only if you promise to steal a bite of mine, Oscar.”

“Only if you promise to share the secret recipe,” he replied with a wink.

Just as we were about to place our order, a waiter approached our table. “Ready to order?”

We all chimed in, each person stating their choices. I noticed a sudden flurry of confusion on the waiter’s face as he scribbled down our orders.

“Uh, so that’s two spanakopita, one moussaka, two baklava, and… the chef’s special?” he recapped, looking uncertain.

“Right!” Mae said enthusiastically.

But then the waiter’s expression shifted to one of realization. “Um, we actually ran out of the chef’s special a few minutes ago. Would you like to choose something else?”

Hattie’s face fell. “Oh no! That was the one thing I was really looking forward to!”

Oscar glanced at Hattie, his brow furrowing as he sensed her disappointment. “Hey, how about we order a few extra baklava? They’ll definitely lift your spirits, and we can make a little baklava party.”

“Yeah, and I’ll swap you half my spanakopita if you want,” I offered, trying to ease the mood.

“See? Look at that! A culinary compromise,” Oscar said, grinning as he turned back to the waiter. “So, that’s two spanakopita, three baklava, and Hattie, what would you like instead of the special?”

“Uh… I’ll take the Greek salad,” Hattie said, her smile returning. “And I’ll make sure to save a bite for you, Oscar.”

“Perfect!” Oscar declared, a playful glint in his eye. “Just be sure it’s not the size of a small planet.”

Just then, Mae reached for the pitcher of iced tea but knocked over her cup of water instead, sending it cascading across the table. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, grabbing napkins in a panic.

“Mae!” Edie laughed, trying to help. “You just wanted a splash of drama, didn’t you?”

Hattie giggled as she handed Mae more napkins. “Looks like you’re creating your own little water feature over here.”

Oscar, ever the quick thinker, grabbed a few napkins and leaned in, grinning. “Don’t worry, Mae. You’re not the first one to bring a bit of chaos to the table. Just think of it as adding a little flavor to our meal.”

"Oscar don't even," Mae rolled her eyes. "You're so bloody pasty and white you even if I added seasoning to your water you wouldn't taste any difference."

The group erupted into laughter, and Oscar feigned shock, putting a hand over his heart. “Pasty? I’ll have you know I’m just ‘lightly seasoned,’ thank you very much.”

At that moment, I took a sip of water, and his ridiculous remark caught me off guard. I choked on the cool liquid, my eyes widening in surprise. The refreshing taste turned into a near disaster as I fought to keep it all down. I felt the water bubble up in my throat, and for a split second, I was convinced I might just spray it all over the table.

My cheeks flushed as I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, stifling the urge to burst into laughter or worse, make a total mess. I managed to swallow just in time, but I couldn't help the splutter that escaped, sending a small splash of water onto the table.

“Whoa! Are you alright?” Edie leaned forward, her eyes wide with concern and amusement.

“Yeah, just… almost became a fountain,” I gasped, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Thanks to you, Oscar.”

He leaned back, hands up in mock surrender, clearly enjoying the chaos. “I’m just here for the entertainment! Didn’t mean to turn you into a water feature.”

“To be fair Osc, you're more like ‘extra bland,’” Edie chimed in, grinning as she took a sip of her tea. “You’re practically a walking Greek salad without the dressing.”

“I think that just made it worse,” I added, trying to contain my giggles.

Oscar laughed along, clearly unfazed. “Well, someone has to be the contrast in this colorful group. I’m here to balance out all this vibrant energy.”

“Right, because we definitely need someone to remind us of a plain piece of pita bread,” Hattie teased.

“Hey, I’m the life of the party!” Oscar shot back, leaning in closer to me. “And let’s be honest, without my charisma, who would keep the chaos in check? You all would be lost.”

As the laughter faded, we savored the last bites of our meal. The moussaka was rich and savory, the spanakopita perfectly flaky, and the baklava—a sweet ending that left us all satisfied. I leaned back in my chair, a contented sigh escaping my lips. “That was honestly one of the best meals I’ve had in ages.”

“Agreed!” Mae chimed in, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I could eat Greek food every day.”

Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Speaking of keeping the fun going, I heard there’s a great nightclub nearby. We should totally check it out!”

Hattie perked up, clearly intrigued. “Oh, that could be fun! I’m in!”

Mae’s expression shifted, disappointment washing over her. “I can’t go,” she said, her voice dropping. “I’m still underage.”

Edie looked at Mae sympathetically. “That really sucks. But hey, we can still hang out! I’ll stay with you.”

Mae’s frown softened slightly at Edie’s reassurance. “Yeah, that could be nice. Thanks, Edie.”

Oscar turned to me, his grin widening. “So, what do you say? A little nighttime adventure? Just you, me, and Hattie tearing up the dance floor?”

I met his gaze, the thrill of spontaneity igniting in my chest. “Count me in.”

“Alright, then! Let’s make this night unforgettable!” he declared, excitement bubbling in his voice.

“Ain’t nobody wants to see you dance, white boy,” Edie rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Oscar feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. “Excuse me? My moves are legendary!”

“Legendary at what? Scaring away everyone on the dance floor?” Edie shot back, laughter lighting up her eyes.

“Hey, I’ll have you know my dancing is an art form!” Oscar retorted, grinning widely. “I just need the right audience.”

"I can never argue with you Osc," Edie shook her head.

As we stood up to leave, I glanced back at Mae and Edie, who exchanged a knowing smile. It was clear they would have their own fun together. I felt a mix of anticipation and nerves as I stepped outside, the warm evening air wrapping around us like a promise of adventure.

With Oscar and Hattie by my side, I felt ready to dive into whatever the night had in store.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: a double update for my lovelies, so sorry i didn't update on sunday <3, i hope you enjoy chapters 5 and 6!!

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09 @fix5idiots

[arvinsescape]

Marks in Quarantine

A/N: I know i’m late to the while quarantine thing but I love these kinds of concepts.

Summary: What happens when reader and Tom are interrupted to many times for Tom’s liking? Oral- Fem receiving. Unprotected sex (Wrap it up! Practise safe sex). 

Warnings: Swearing. Smut (Minors do not engage).

W/C: 2.2K

Quarantine was fun and you did enjoy living the boys, you loved them all, truly. There was just one inevitable problem when it came to everyone being home all the time. It became increasingly difficult for you and Tom to get any sort of alone time. It wasn’t too bad when it came to standard PDA, the boys more than used to seeing Tom interact with you in everyday situations as you’d been together for the last two years, but they had caught you in some intimate moments together.

Tom’s breath was hot on your skin as you straddled him and he kissed your neck. You moaned quietly as he sucked your sweet spot. You were in your room, having a chilled-out afternoon and one thing led to another. You were straddling his waist as he gripped your hips, grinding them against his own.

“Fucking, can’t wait to get you out of these.” He growled as he bit your neck, eliciting another quiet moan from you.

“Tom, mate any chance- shit I’m so sorry.” Tuwaine fumbled as he took in the sight before him. Tom’s head popped out from behind your shoulder as you buried your red face into his neck. Tom’s face was flushed as he looked at Tuwaine.

“Mate.” Tom drawled out as he gestured towards the two of you. Tuwaine cleared his throat as he mumbled another apology and made his way out of the room. The whole exchange completely turning you off.

**

You’d woken up ten minutes ago and Tom had his fingers pumping in and out of you as he caught your moans and gasps in his kiss.

“You need to be quiet for me baby.” He mumbled as he removed his fingers, licking them, shooting you a wink and placing kisses down your body. He’d gotten to your core and you felt his breath fan over you, it turned you on immensely. Before you knew it, he was lapping at your clit and his fingers had returned, pumping in and out as he licked and sucked your clit.

You were getting close and you’d done really well at keeping your moans quiet when Harrison walked in. Fuck. Tom immediately stopped what he was doing, throwing the duvet back over you as Harrison turned around, face red as a tomato.

“Erm, Sorry Tom but the neighbour has asked if he can borrow something for his car from you.”

“Sure mate.” Tom replied, he was visibly annoyed and frustrated, trying not to make it obvious to his friend that he was.

**

All of this had happened over the last week and killed your mood every time and Tom had had enough; he’d decided that he was going to have bring it up whilst you were in the shower.

“Guys, can you do me a favour?” He asked and they all hummed in response. “If you want me for anything today, can you please knock on the door and make sure it’s urgent.” He said.

“Sure man. Need some alone time with your mrs?” Harrison teased.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do.” Tom grumbled as he stood up and left the boys in the living room.

**

You made your way out of the shower, towel wrapped around you and thankful Tom had an en suite as you’d forgotten your clothes. When you entered the bedroom Tom was sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up from his phone when he saw you, throwing it to the side. He grabbed your hand that wasn’t holding your towel up and brought you towards him.

“Hi.” You said as you stood between his legs, he grinned up at you and mumbled back a ‘hey’. He took your towel and suddenly ripped it off you, leaving you somewhat dumbfounded. “Tom what are you doing?” You laughed as he gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap.

“I” He started as he moved you further up the bed “am” he continued as he flipped you over onto your back “finally gonna make you feel good.” He finished as he led on top of you.

“Is that a good idea? I mean the boys-“

“Are not going to be bothering us, I promise.” He interrupted as he kissed down your neck. You were turned on in seconds, he knew exactly where to kiss you to get you going. He stopped at your breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. You breathed out a sigh of pleasure as he did. He brought another hand up to cup your other breast. You felt the familiar pooling of arousal between your legs as he lapped his tongue over your nipple.

You arched your back into his touch as you let yourself indulge in him. Every lick from his tongue was another step away from your worry as he diminished it completely. He licked a hot stripe down your stomach as he made his way down your body and you moaned quietly in pleasure. As soon as his tongue licked a stripe down your core your hand flew to your mouth. You were so turned on and you hadn’t had his touch in well over a week which when you were together was an absolute rarity.

He took your clit into his mouth as he sucked and licked on the aching body part. You bit down on your hand, it felt so good. He looked up at you and moaned as he took in the sight of you, the vibrations shooting straight through you and the pleasure consumed you as you threw your head back and moaned into your hand. You were, again, doing well to keep your moans under control until he added two fingers into your dripping heat and curled them towards your g-spot. He knew you were close, which was why he added the fingers.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You felt that familiar fire coursing through your veins. The one that arrived when you were about to orgasm and you grabbed the nearest pillow which just so happened to be Tom’s and pulled it over your face. You were having a hard time not screaming in pleasure as his assault never let up. His  strong scent filled your nostrils and it pushed you over the edge.

You orgasmed incredibly hard and prayed to god that the pillow was enough to muffle your moans and quiet screams as your orgasm washed over you. Tom continued to insert his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your intense high. You removed the pillow when you were satisfied you were done and sat up as you looked at Tom between your legs smirking. You threw the pillow at him and he caught it easily.

“What was that for? I just gave you a very good orgasm.” He protested as he made his way up the bed.

“Yeah but you don’t have to look so smug with yourself.” You groaned.

“I’m sorry but the fact that you had to use a pillow to muffle your pretty sounds made me feel like I did I pretty good job.” He laughed as he kissed you and you could taste a hint of yourself on his lips. You pulled his shirt over his head and threw it god knows where in the bedroom. You were so unbelievably turned on, although you didn’t feel touch starved, Tom making sure to keep you well up to date with his cuddles and his tender kisses, you had spent the last week being cock blocked and were incredibly horny as a result.

You pushed him down by his shoulders to straddle him as you started to remove his jeans. Once they were off after some awkward manoeuvring, you pulled his boxers down his legs and removed them. Just as you were about to take his hard cock into your mouth he stopped you. You looked up at him confused.

“Oh no baby, as much as I would love you to take my cock into that pretty mouth, I want to be inside you right now.” He said as he pulled you back up his body, he kissed you deeply as he flipped you onto your back. He looked into your eyes and made sure you were ready and as soon as you granted permission, he slipped into you.

You pulled his head down into a kiss as you moaned into his mouth. You wound your legs around his waist and he gripped one tightly as he hiked it further up his waist allowing him to gain deeper access. You moaned again and Tom had to act fast and swallow it by connecting your lips again.

“Fuck Y/N, feel so good.” He mumbled as he thrust into you. They were hard and deep thrusts and you found it increasingly difficult to stay quiet, you bit into his shoulder which only spurred him on more. “Fuck that feels so fucking good.” He said into your ear as he bit your lobe. Had you have had the house to yourself you were one thousand per cent sure that there wouldn’t be a single room left untouched by the sounds of your moans.

His thrusts grew sloppy and desperate as he felt himself getting closer and you too felt that familiar high creep up along with his. “Fuck, you’re getting tighter, you close?” He asked you as he gave you a few hard thrusts.

“Fuck, Tom, I’m so close.” You moaned as you bit into his shoulder again. He moved his hand that had been gripping your thigh and started to rub your clit again, he was determined to get you off before he did. You felt your high rising further and you knew it was about to come crashing down.

“Come on baby, I need you to come for me. I need you to let go.” And you did. Hard. You gripped his back and pulled him closer to you, fingernails digging into his back as you muffled your moans against his shoulder. He came shortly after, riding you both through your highs. It took you at least two minutes to steady your breath. “Fuck Y/N.” Tom grinned as he slipped out of you and cleaned himself and you up.

“Sorry, that was intense.” You said between breaths. You made your way to the bathroom on shaky legs and did what you had to do. Your face was still flushed and you splashed cold water over it. You examined yourself, that familiar glow of having being railed by your boyfriend present. You were surprised to see he hadn’t left a single mark on you. You walked back into the bedroom and stopped when you saw Tom’s back, he’d put his jeans back on but not his shirt.

You’d left red and angry looking fingernail marks down his back. You’d never done that before and you feared you’d really hurt him. You practically ran up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist as you kissed at the marks. Tom turned awkwardly in your grasp, the shirt he had in his hand was pulled down over your head as he kissed your forehead.

“Tom, your back.” You stuttered out.

“What about it?” He frowned.

“You can’t feel that. Go look.” You said as you pulled back from him completely. You stopped him again as you took in the mark’s you’d left on his neck from biting down. “Fuck, Tom. I’m so sorry. I’ve left marks all over.”

“Like I never leave them on you.” He teased.

“No, Tom. Go look, they seem a little, I don’t know, they look like they hurt.” You said as you started to feel embarrassed.

“One sec.” Tom said as he made his way into the bathroom. He came back out a few minutes later and by that time you’d pulled some shorts on to go with his shirt. He was grinning.

“Fucked you good then.” He concluded and your jaw dropped.

“You’re not mad? I mean, they look sore.” You worried.

“Not at all. It just means I gave you a good time, right?” He asked cockily. “Anyway, have you seen that thigh? I think the whole being quiet thing means more marks.” He teased as you furrowed your brows. You went back into the bathroom and awkwardly looked into the mirror and sure enough there were five very prominent fingerprint marks developing where he’d gripped it. You smiled to yourself, you’d thought the entire time that it was you struggling to keep quiet but so was Tom.

**

You made your way downstairs around an hour later and the boys all looked at you and grinned.

“What?” You eyed them suspiciously.

“You’re fucking glowing Y/N.” Harrison laughed, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You tried to defend yourself. “Glowing.” You muttered as you turned around, trying to find what you were looking for. You knew you had one but you didn’t want to admit that.

“Damn.” Tuwaine shouted as he noticed the marks on your thighs, your hopes of Tom’s shirt covering them shattering in seconds. Tom made his way into the room.

“What are you all shouting about?” He furrowed his brows.

“God damn Y/N! Nice!” Tuwaine shouted again and you furrowed your brows, eyebrows shooting up the second you realised what the fuss was about. Tom hadn’t put a shirt on.

“Tom!” You whisper shouted at him.

“What?”

“You didn’t put a shirt on.”

“Oh.” Tom grinned at you and you blushed so hard you thought your face would stay a permanent red.

[egcdeath]

second chances

pairing: softdark!steve rogers x reader 

summary: you wake up on the side of the road with no memories, no possessions, and no place to go. luckily, an attractive stranger arrives just in time to help you out. 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: there are some soft moments, but this is ultimately a dark fic!!! alluding to kidnapping, deceit, mention of knife, drugging, abuse (mostly mental/emotional, but implied physical), amnesia, brief alcohol mention, nightmares, mention of bodily harm, bed sharing **if i’m missing any warnings, let me know

author’s note: this is my first dark fic without a dark reader, so please be nice! it took me nearly a whole month to get it where i want it to be (i’m a slow writer, i know) but i’m actually pretty proud of this. 

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

After what seemed like years of waiting, the opportunity finally lent itself, a small pocket knife sat right in your peripheral view. A dangerous mixture of adrenaline and impulse filled you, not even granting you the time to think before you were clumsily extending your arm, and wielding the knife. 

The blade popped out, and you held it with a shaky hand in front of your captor.

“Really?” he scoffed, “you’re gonna kill me.”

There was no attempt on his part to stop you, in fact, he smiled and leaned back slightly.

Your whole body trembled at this point, you could barely form words, let alone move. But this was your chance.

“So do it, Y/N. Kill me,” his voice steadily rose as he approached you, long legs making their way across the room.

Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, hand approaching your own. He wrapped it around your wrist and gripped down on you like a snake, causing you to emit a tiny yelp.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, voice steady as your hands trembled around the grip.

“Exactly. You’re still as fucking pathetic as you were the day I met you,” a slap stung your left cheek, a mark that was sure to be there for the days following. 

The knife clattered as it hit the linoleum floor, and you followed its path, crumbling on the floor and breaking into tear-less sobs. 

“Remember this moment, sweetheart. You’ll never get a chance like this again,” he swooped up the knife before walking away from you, leaving a broken woman in his wake.

——

You went from experiencing nothing to everything all at once. Your brain seemed to be attempting to escape your head as it pressed against your eyes, and you struggled to open them, lashes feeling like they were glued together. Rain poured down on your head, and you concluded that it had been pouring on you for a while, as you were completely soaked to the bone. 

As you looked at yourself and your body, a curled up and bruised mess on the side of the road, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened to you, or at all. You weren’t even sure that you had memories apart from the ones that were processing in that exact moment. It was as if you’d exited the womb for a second time, clueless to where you were, who you are, or how you got there. 

You shivered as you pulled yourself to your feet, weak ankles shaking in glittery heels and body trembling in a half-torn dress. Wherever you came from couldn’t have been good.

You slipped off the shoes and held them in your hands as you walked down the side of the deserted road, bare feet sloshing in mud as you did so. You didn’t have an idea where you were, or where the nearest sign of life was. You were tempted to walk on the soaked, petrichor scented road, but you knew that that wasn’t your best idea.

You truly had no good options. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No one to save you. You wanted to collapse back onto the ground, give into your screaming body that was becoming more and more tired by the moment. Hot tears began to slip down your face, contrasting the cold of the raindrops falling onto your body. 

All hope was lost, you’d die any time now, and that would just be it. You looked up at the overcast sky and screamed at it, mentally begging for someone, anyone, to help. That you’d forever be grateful to god, or the universe, or whatever it was that was out there that put you in the situation you were in. 

You screamed and sobbed until your throat was raw, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to produce any more sound, sitting down onto the damp ground and wishing for your inevitable death to be a swift and painless one. 

Yet, your pity party was crashed just moments later by a beaming red light and the soft hum of a motor coming down the road. This was your one chance. Who knew when the next time you’d see a sign of human life was?

You jumped to your feet and waved your hands like a madwoman, trying to catch the attention of the male behind the driver's seat. He began to come to a stop, pulling over a bit to see you better.

His face was angelic, a strong jaw and soft eyes that looked like they had seen more than the average person. When he spoke, you felt heaven become drowsy with harmony. Or maybe you were just really tired. Regardless, your pleas to a higher power had proved fruitful, as your knight and shining armor had just pulled up beside you to save the day.

He rolled a window down, and you got closer to the door.

“Need a ride, ma’am?” he called.

You simply nodded and approached the vehicle, opening the door hesitantly. You sat down on the seat, and jumped a bit when you felt heat radiating onto the back of your thighs.

“I’m Steve. You?” 

You chuckled awkwardly, “that’s a great question that I wish I could answer. It’s actually kind of a long story. Well, I assume it’s long since I can’t remember any of it. But maybe I will later. Nice to meet you anyway, Steve.”

He nodded understandingly, completely unfazed by your lack of name. Maybe he had prior experience with hitchhikers, as he was approaching this situation with a nearly suspicious calmness. “Well… where’re you heading?” the man asked, looking over at you.

“I, uh, I have no idea,” you said raspily, throat still sore from your previous screaming.

The blonde’s lip quirked at this, as if he were holding back a much bigger smile, “that’s fine. I’m heading a few towns away, but I was thinking of stopping and getting some breakfast. You interested in that?”

You shrugged, becoming slightly uncomfortable in the quickly dampening seat. Steve glanced over at you after putting the car in drive, and noticed your discomfort from your prior stay in the rain.

“We can stop by a bathroom first. I’ve got some extra clothes with me in the back,” he suggested. You nodded quietly, looking at the vast, and empty road ahead. 

----

You sat in a diner booth dressed in a thick jacket and comfortable sweatpants that oddly enough, seemed to be exactly your size. Steve approached the table with an extra plate of fries, and set it gently in front of you. 

“So you don’t remember anything?” he asked, stealing a fry before sitting down across from you. 

You shook your head, bringing a salty fry to your mouth, “I swear I just woke up there. No memories, no nothing, no place to go. I mean, I was gonna die out there if you didn’t get me.”

Steve scoffed a bit at this, “that’s not true. I’m sure someone would’ve helped eventually.”

“Maybe. But I’m glad that it was you,” you looked up at him, and the fondness he was looking at you with was nearly suffocating. 

Steve paused for a moment, mulling over his next words as if he was looking for the exact right thing to say.

“Would you like to stay with me? I mean, I know we just met each other, but I just have this feeling. Like I was meant to find you. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you have anywhere else to go.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused after a moment, popping out of the both and heading towards the ladies room.

You handled your business, and stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands. Makeup ran down your face, and it almost appeared that you were melting. Who would pick someone up in such a state? You had to question this Steve guy’s character a little bit. You couldn’t remember the exact phrase, but it couldn’t be smart to get into a car with a stranger. Especially a stranger offering to take you to some secret location with them. After all, he could be a murderer, a kidnapper, or a rapist. You would be none the wiser.

But he fed you, clothed you, and offered you a form of shelter. He couldn’t be too ill intentioned if he was willing to go out of his way to help, right? Maybe he just wanted to keep you off the streets, and that was why he was willing to take you to wherever it was that he was going.

Your stomach turned the longer you watched yourself, the longer you thought. Perhaps your intuition found that something was off. But who even knew if you could trust your intuition, after all, you were basically a day old, and you didn’t seem to have any other option.

——

You ended up going back out into the diner and accepting Steve’s offer. You didn’t really have much of a choice, and he wasn’t exactly a bad one. 

Steve was quiet for the majority of your trip, only speaking when he noticed that you’d moved your sights from the window over to him. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the way you were studying him, but for some reason your eyes kept finding him.

Hours had passed in the day, and night was quickly approaching. You dozed as you watched the starry night from the passenger window. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the moment, hours worth of watching flat landscape, combined with the complexity of your day finally catching up to you.   

——

Cold. You felt cold. The floor was cold. The blood running through your veins was cold. Your brain was cold and freezing, hindering you from properly processing what was going on in front of you. 

A searing pain rolled through your body as you tumbled down the stairs, back into a room that was suffocatingly familiar.

“I should’ve never allowed you to leave. Ungrateful,” a faceless man followed you down the stairs and hovered over your now battered body. “I give you a home and you complain. I take care of you, giving you almost anything you could ever ask for. You complain. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position? With someone like me taking care of them?” 

“You told me you loved me, you goddamn liar. I let you come upstairs, and you try to fucking kill me. I should kill you,” he seethed, leaning down over you.

But I won’t.

The words were unspoken, but familiar. A threat uttered to you before, usually followed with an ‘I’ll make your life a living hell instead.’

You were unable to speak, as if someone had ripped out your vocal cords. Suddenly the faceless man was reaching down and holding the bloody organs in his hands. Your blood ran cold once again. 

“You can’t even fathom the hell I want to release on you right now,” he continued, chest puffing out with exaggerated, angered breaths. “But I’ll be the bigger man. Because I love you,” he dropped the cords on the ground beside you, and your eyes flicked over to the mutilated part of yourself. “Y/N, I need you to prove to me that you love me.”

You wanted to beg, to plead and tell the man whatever he needed to hear in order to release you, but you were completely powerless. 

The man hoisted you up with ease, and you soundlessly whimpered. He carried you into a small, plain room and set you on the flat, stiff mattress on the floor. 

“Come on, Sweetheart. You know I’m doing this for us.” 

The faceless man kissed your forehead, and the feeling of dread overtook you.

——

You awoke with a gasp, clawing at your own neck to make sure that your vocal cords were still intact.

“You alright?” Steve asked, glancing over at you. “Should I pull over?”

“No, I’ll be fine,”  you whispered.

“Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” he advised, setting a reassuring hand on top of yours. “We’ll be at the hotel any minute now.”

——

Your nerves were absolutely fried by the nightmare. Your hands shook like leaves in the wind while you stood next to Steve as he checked you into your hotel room.

“How’re you doing?” he asked in the elevator, setting his large hand on top of yours once again. The gesture was calming, even if you felt a slight undermining feeling of something unsettling.

“A little better. I probably just need to lay down somewhere comfortable.”

Steve nodded and squeezed your hand, “you’ve had a long day. You have first dibs on the shower. Maybe it’ll help you relax.” 

The smile that Steve was giving you was comforting. You felt glad that he was the person to have picked you up.

The elevator made a little ding noise before the doors opened, and he guided you to your room. 

You made a beeline to the shower, not even taking the time to be impressed with the size of the hotel room, the amenities, or the quality of it. You just wanted to shed your clothes and find at least a moment of peace. 

You exited the bathroom after about a half an hour, and walked out into the suite in just a towel. 

“Can I borrow some more clothes?” you glanced over at Steve, who was openly checking you out from the comfort of the bed.

Wait, the bed.

There were way too many things going on for you to be focused on the fact that there was just one bed. Maybe Steve would offer to sleep on the sofa.

���Yeah, that’s fine. My teammate left some clothes in that smaller blue suitcase. It’ll probably fit,” Steve paused for a few moments as you found the aforementioned suitcase and looked for something comfortable that you could actually sleep in.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, gesturing at your bruised legs.

“I don’t… I don’t know. It’s all so blurry,” you sighed, settling on a fresh pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

You changed quickly in the residually steamy bathroom, and sat down at the foot of the bed. 

“Do we need to have a fistfight over who gets to sleep in the bed?” Steve joked and you shook your head.

“I can sleep on the sofa, if you want.”

“No way. You deserve something comfortable,” he got out of bed, and approached the bathroom to take his own shower. “Get nice and cozy, friend. You deserve it.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and you moved up to the top of the bed, slipping under the covers and sighing aloud from relief. Your body was finally having a chance to relax, and the hotel bed was surprisingly comfortable. 

By the time Steve returned from the shower, you were already half asleep, and very unaware of your surroundings.

As you fell out of consciousness, you had blurry visions of confinement, punishments, and pain. You once again woke up with a gasp, but this time Steve was standing over you. 

“Deep breaths, okay? I saw you thrashing and mumbling something to yourself. I think you were having a bad dream.”

You nodded and panted, trying to catch your breath and slow down your hummingbird heart rate. 

“You’re safe, I promise.”

“Can you stay with me?” you stammered out.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve got into bed beside you, and rubbed your back as you curled into a fetal position, “just try to relax, okay? There isn’t anything to fear when I’m here with you.”

You nodded, clutching onto Steve’s genuine tone. Something about him just made you feel… safe, despite the possible red flags around him. 

After Steve got into bed with you, you were finally able to fall into a dreamless and peaceful sleep. 

——

You woke up to an empty and cold bed. You blinked a few times and looked around the room, eyes stopping on Steve as he watched you from the couch, eyes quickly flipping between yourself and the book in his hands in an effort to cover up his staring. 

The whole ordeal made you feel slightly off, but the realization that you were essentially mooching off a stranger felt worse. 

You hopped out of bed and anxiously paced towards the bathroom. “Shit, Steve,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I should probably leave.”

“Where else do you have to go?” Steve almost defensively questioned, frown deep on his face.

You took a deep sigh and shrugged, “I… don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to go,” he began, sounding unsure in his words, “stay. With me,” he stood up and walked over to you, grabbing the back of your arm softly. “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, you’re helping me. I get pretty lonely on these kinds of missions, so please, stay with me.”

You turned to look at Steve, the deep creases in his face at the thought of losing you. With just a glance, you knew that you couldn’t leave. 

——

The next few days of your life had proved your theory. It was almost alarming how quickly Steve became your anchor in the midst of a new, overwhelming world. 

The first thing that he did for you was tell you what your name was. As confused as you were to how exactly he figured it out, (he told you that he knew some weird tech guy. You were prepared to go with anything), you were grateful that Steve was able to help you out a piece of your old life back together.

He was oddly patient with you as you learned more and more about your surroundings. You were most impressed by the grocery store, and may or may not have spent hours inside of that food palace, spending much more of Steve’s money than was socially acceptable. 

For the next few months, you stayed at a safe house with Steve, spending the majority of your time looking down at your reflection in the lake in the backyard, wondering if your memories could ever come back.

You’d grown closer with Steve in that time as well, he was really the only person that you’d gotten close with since you’d lost your memories. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t said more than three sentences to anyone else. By that measurement, your next closest friend was a gas station cashier.

In fact, you’d started dating Steve. Granted, you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around it all, despite the hours of rom-coms you’d watched while Steve was gone on missions. You just knew that you cared a lot about Steve. When he was around you, your heart fluttered. He was the only person you truly felt comfortable with. He protected you time after time, and voiced to you just how much he adored you. 

It made you feel wanted, to know that despite all of the confusion, you still had a place in this world, even if the place was just Steve Rogers’ heart. 

——

Steve arrived at the safe house late at night after nearly a week of being off on another mission. The bed creaked as he got into bed with you, and pressed up against your sleeping form. 

“Steve, sometimes I have these really awful dreams. Mostly when you’re not with me,” you began out of the blue as his arms snaked around you. “It’s always this faceless man just… abusing me. And I can’t even do anything about it because I’m too weak. And I can’t say anything because he stole my vocal cords. It sounds so silly, because it’s all just a dream, but it all feels so real. I just... I need you to promise me that you’ll protect me no matter what. Especially against him.”

“Of course,” he whispered against the back of your head, “I promise that I’ll protect you from him. He’ll never even get the chance to let the thought cross his mind.” 

“I love you, Steve,” you mumbled sleepily, “please never leave me again.”

He’d been waiting to hear those words.

——

Your fingers wrapped around a warm mug while Steve put the finishing touches on your breakfast. He’d decided to go all out that morning, with an impressive spread of food that would put most buffets to shame. For a moment, you questioned if you’d forgotten about some important holiday, or an anniversary.

Steve set a plate down in front of you, then pressed a soft peck to your forehead, “enjoy, sweetheart.”

You grinned softly down at the food, and at the affection, “what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just relieved to be back. I don’t like being away from you for too long,” he settled into the seat across from you, and took a sip of his own coffee.

“Mm, you sure? You’re not always this chipper post mission.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head just the slightest bit, “alright. You got me. I wanted to save it as a surprise, but I hate keeping secrets from you,” Steve paused.

“So… what’s the secret?” you pressed, bringing a forkful of food up to your mouth.

“I’m retiring.”

Your eyes widened as you heard the news, and you nearly choked, “are you really?”

Steve simply nodded, “I’m ready for the next chapter of my life with you.”

Your heart fluttered at the sweetness of his gesture, and the slightest hint of nerves. Why was Steve so willing to give up his entire livelihood for someone he knew for less than a year?

You felt bad for questioning his motives, considering that Steve had been nothing but good to you in the time that you knew him. If it wasn’t for him, you probably wouldn’t even be alive. He had proved himself to be an amazing, loving man, who had bent over backwards to keep you safe and comfortable. He trusted you, and it was time for you to do the same.

“I’ve been plotting this for a while, to be honest. You might think this is a little fast, but I even have a permanent place for us to stay.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be skeptical for much longer, your feelings of adoration for Steve overruling your hesitance to jump into something like that with him. 

You smiled softly as Steve spoke, getting up and pacing over to where he was seated so you could give him a hug, “I.. yes, that’s fast, but it’s also kinda amazing,” you sighed softly, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “When are we leaving?”

“Tonight, if that’s alright with you. I was thinking that we could spend the day packing up and… celebrating,” he winked down at you, and you looked up to shake your head fondly. 

“That sounds like a plan,” you gazed at him with adoration, and leaned up to press a soft peck to his lips that was lovingly reciprocated. 

——

Music pounded against your eardrums as you ground against a handsome stranger, one you couldn’t see, but instinctively knew. The smell of sweat, liquor, and sex filled your nose, the rancid combination oddly comforting in a retrospective moment. 

“We’re leaving!” A voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like years informed you. Your face broke into a wide grin when you heard her voice. “But it doesn’t look like you care!” she jeered. “Good luck!” your friend laughed, disappearing in the sea of people. 

“You’re coming home with me, right?” he asked, a hot breath against your cheek. 

You nodded. The words refused to come out. 

“Good,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

Out of the blue, you weren’t in the club, but in the small basement room from before, staring at nothing in particular while sat at the edge of your vanity’s seat.

“I’ve tried everything with you,” he commented, leaning against the doorway casually. You felt the need to apologize, to tell your captor that you didn’t mean to do what you did, that you loved him. Plead for him not to punish you. “After months of submission, I thought that we were finally getting somewhere. Why’d you have to throw it all away?” 

Glancing up at the vanity, a woman with sunken eyes, a pained expression, and fading bruises looked back at you, just long enough for you to briefly become that messy, drunken woman at the club once again. 

“I’ve tried everything with you. The easy way clearly didn’t work,” he continued, “you leave me with no other options, my love,” the man sighed, sitting down next to you casually. “I want you to know that I’m doing this for us. You know that nothing good ever comes easy, right?”

The syringe went into your arm like a hot knife through butter, and your muscles clenched as fire filled your body. You went to scream, but your throat was still out of commission. As you went down, your vision and thoughts began to blur before you couldn’t decipher one thing or another. The final noise you could make out was the distortedly slow rendition of It’s Been a Long, Long Time on the record player.

In an out-of-body moment, you watched as the man pulled your relaxed body down to the floor, cautiously pulling the clothes off of you and making you cringe internally at the sight of yourself in such a state. He left your body alone for a moment as he looked through the negligible amount of clothing in your closet, grabbing the same dress from the night at the club and pulling it on your limp figure.

It was torn and messy, not unlike the state it was in when you found yourself conscious. The faceless man muttered something unintelligible to himself before hoisting you up bridal style and taking your body out to the car. 

You watched in terror as this all played out, your slack face looking disturbingly at peace compared to how you’d appeared before. In fact, even in your ghastly state, you felt at peace. 

That peace quickly came to an end as you watched yourself get ditched on the side of the road, and as your body slowly began to twitch back to consciousness, your dream began to fade away.

——

You dragged your suitcase up through the garage, grateful to be at your final destination with the man you’d fallen in love with. You hoped that after moving in, the dreams might finally stop. After all, your dream in the car felt somewhat final. You were trying your best to be as positive as you could manage in such a strange situation, and from the outside, you had to admit that the house was gorgeous.

Stepping inside felt like the worst case of deja vu you’d ever experienced, as if your memories were repairing themself with every millisecond you were in the home, gazing at furniture you hadn’t seen in months, and smelling faint scents that you’d forgotten existed. Feature by feature, the puzzle pieces of the faceless man came together.

The longer you observed, the worse the feeling became. Waves of grief, fear, and pain were rolling over you again and again until you were completely drowning on it. The realization hit you with a ton of bricks: this was the house from your dreams.

Steve came up behind you, snapping you out of your panicked trance. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and squeezed you close to him.

“Ready for the first day of the rest of your life?”

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation P11

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: Violent scene description, death.

Notes: Wow, this seems really out of nowhere to post. Anyway 🤪 I don’t want this sitting in my drafts anymore so I’m going to let you all know if I edit it before the next update. Just... take it.

I spent the better half of the day looking over my shoulder as I worked. Candace’s sudden reappearance isn’t going to be swept under the rug just like that... she’s a dead girl walking and I’ve never been a fan of the zombie genre.

By the time I was counting the money from the cash register, Love seemed to have grown a smile. Though, I could still see the sleep deprivation in her eyes.

“Will,” She leaned forward on the counter, perching her head up on her hand. “could we do something tonight?”

At that moment, I really wish I could’ve said yes. But... I couldn’t afford to get distracted.

“Maybe another night? I’m...” I thought quickly, placing coins down and counting.

“We need to talk.” She leans forward to catch my sight. About what exactly, I want to ask but before I can even get a word out, Forty walks in with his mouth open.

“Will, would you be a doll and help me with something.”

I don’t say anything, only thinking to myself: why here and now? Forty has some of the worst timing... and then I spot Candace. Right behind Forty, with a white smile I hated to see.

“Oh, Will. This is Amy.” Love gestures toward Candace and my stomach turns and probably does some flips while it’s at it. If I wasn’t so used to staring into the face of death, I would of probably thrown up by now.

But, there’s no way.

“She’s Y/N’s friend.” Forty finishes. I bite the inside of my cheek. No fucking way she’s here unprompted. I’ve been so incredibly meticulous about everything including my online presence.

I look to Love’s face and she seems to spot something.

“Are you okay? You look kind of pale.” What? She’s not going to ask if I’ve seen a ghost?

“Yeah— no, yeah. I’m alright.” I smile wide, wiping my brow as I do. “It’s just—“ I turn to ‘Amy’. “Is Y/N still in town?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.” She looks me in the eye. For a moment, I feel myself crack under the pressure.

Hold me back, I might just kill her now.

“What do you mean?” Love looks to her.

“I was supposed to pick her up the other day, but she hasn’t responded to my messages since.” Candace looks at me with those dead soulless eyes of hers.

So, she’s the mysterious driver. When did she start driving that type of car? Since she’s decided to pursue a career in stealthily ruining my life?

What the fuck am I going to do about her and what the hell am I going to do about you?

“Will,” Love suddenly says, bringing the conversation back and snapping me out of my thoughts. “didn’t you see Y/N?”

“Y— no. No, I know it was late by the time I got there, but I passed a bus on my way.” I remember the way your soft face felt in my hand. “Could she have taken public transport? Maybe a cab?”

“I highly doubt it.” Candace replies immediately. I’m sweating, but I’m trying not to lose my cool.

I finally finish sorting through the change, no doubt making some mistakes. But with that done and out of my way, I need an excuse to slip through the cracks.

“Listen, I’m sure she’s just disappearing again. You’ve told me she’s done it before, I don’t see why she wouldn’t do it again.”

Love shifts around, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I’m calling Lucy.”

And there she goes. Love leaves the room after her statement, and I know she’s feeling worse. Why did you even bother coming back? You’ve literally disrupted everything in our lives... it’s going to be difficult to fix, Y/N. There’s no simple way around this, we just have to make it through alive.

~

Love remained in another room at Anavrin until it closed and the street lights turned on. She quietly spoke into her phone, observing the floor pathetically.

She spoke with Lucy openly, though she avoided the topic of your sudden disappearance.

The conversation eventually dies down, and she says her goodbyes.

“I need to show you something.”

Love sets down her phone and looks to Amy. She hadn’t noticed her enter the room.

“You surprised me. What is it?”

She continues once Love’s attention is on her. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but do you mind if we discuss it in the car?”

~

And just as expected, Forty’s one-off comment about needing help wasn’t easily forgotten by himself. I was dragged out of Anavrin rather quickly. Though, in a way, I appreciated the easy excuse to get away from such a venemous snake as Candace.

Forty never let up, no matter how obvious I made my lack of care, he remained just as motivated and just as annoying.

“Listen, this is probably my most prestigious and ambitious project to date.” Forty’s arm swings itself over my shoulder, bringing me in as he repeats the same garbage he always does. I’m glad to see that spirit remains.

“They’re wanting to make it into a movie, can you believe that?” Forty’s arm lifts itself, only to fall down on my shoulder like a pat on the back.

“I’d love it if you could... you know... help me out. A genius writer isn’t a genius without their ghost writers!”

That’s... not what that is, but I get his point.

When I looked at him, his eyes were wide and his bottom lip stuck out comically. He was pouting? No, it’s more of a puppy dog look. The lazy man’s pretty please.

I should have time for this, even if I’d rather stop by the nearest gas station and get you dinner.

“Earth to Will, I need you focused!”

~

Love wraps her arms around herself, feeling very out of place.

Amy continues to fumble with the lock, until she hears a click. She perks up and gives Love a nod.

The storage lockers were easy to access, surprisingly so. But none of this felt right.

“Wait.” Love says suddenly, halting all movement. “I don’t want to do this.”

“But you’re just a door away. Please, Love, you’ll want to see this side of him.” Amy pleas.

What side of him? The side that owns this locker she so happened to know about?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t care for it either.” Love says, though she looks unsure of herself as she fiddles with her bag. Perhaps a part of her would rather be unaware of something as vile as Any had dared describe in the car.

“Do you hear yourself? You sound ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? Thats coming from someone with bold claims.” Love retorts. She catches herself for a moment, seeing a glimpse of someone she repressed long ago. She’s not that person anymore, she swore to herself she never would be.

Despite Love’s reluctance, Amy lifts the door up and pockets her bobby pin.

Hearing the doors roll up, you had expected Joe to step in. But he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you jumped at the image of Love and Amy, pinching yourself to truly believe they were really standing there.

You wanted to speak, to shout, to cry out... but your voice was far too gone. Your throat was hoarse and bone-dry.

“Oh my god.” Amy hurried, observing you inside the glass box. “You’re still alive— she’s still alive!”

Love remained silent, her jaw hung open in utter disbelief. Will... Will had told her you left.

He lied? Or Amy isn’t who she says she is.

But why would he? It... it must’ve been for a good reason, right? Will isn’t this kind of person, right? Maybe— maybe he got himself into something. Love clutched her keys between her fingers, her knuckles turning white as she focused her burning stare into the back of Amy’s head.

“Y/N. Can you hear me?” She says, hitting the glass.

You’re barely responsive, a mixture of dehydration and lack of nutrition hitting you all at once. The sheer excitement from seeing them took a lot out of you.

“We’ll get you out of there.” Amy states, turning her head to face Love.

Love jumps at her sudden movement, grip shaking as she stares into Amy’s eyes.

“Help me, would you?”

Love slashed her keys in Amy’s direction and she tumbles back. Without a second thought, Love does it again, this time catching her straight in the neck.

For a moment, Love realizes what she’s done. With the way you began to pound on the glass and the look of complete and utter fear Amy is giving her, it’s kind of hard not to. Love stares at her keys, stuck inside the side of Amy’s neck as a thick stream of blood flows downward. She grips her own neck, holding tightly as her mouth puckers like a fish out of water.

Amy doesn’t want her to pull them out—the keys- and Love notices that. But she does. She yanks the keys toward herself and watches Amy slap her hands down around her own throat.

She’s silent, surprisingly silent despite the gurgling.

Love watches Amy hit the ground and crawl toward her feet, all the while a pool of blood forms beneath herself.

When Love looks toward you, you’re curled up in the corner of your glass cage, arms covering your eyes as sobs shake you violently. She didn’t want you to witness this side of her, truly. But even more so, she had never wanted it to come out again.

However, Amy was a threat to the three of you. Love knew you were locked up somewhere, how could she not? She knew that Will— Joe- had done this in the past, but it could be different now— it could be better. A private detective isn’t just for show. But Amy didn’t have to get involved— didn’t have to go sniffing around and finding your location before she could.

When she notices you peek past your elbows, she feels her gut clench at the sight of the way you cower at the sight displayed by her feet. Watching someone bleed out is hardly a pretty sight and Love understands.

Knowing full well that she can’t turn back, Love wipes her keys and drops the rolled up door.

[sweatersstyles]

or the one where you forget harry’s birthday and try desperately to make it up to him

just wanted to write something small to try to get back into writing after my break! thank you all for your encouragement, excitement, and patience and I apologize for it being a few days later than I wanted it to be! this is probably the closest to angst that you’ll ever get from me :)

thank you to @1980holland, @summertimestyles, @tbslenthusiast, @bigspoonstyles​, @angryinternetduck, and @iconicharry for letting me run my ideas by you and being so kind in general. more thanks to @tbslenthusiast and @bigspoonstyles for being the most wonderful beta readers and just lovely friends overall!

this is another part of my dad!harry series so as always they are linked in order if you want to re-visit them or read from the beginning if you choose to!

⭐ I Want Your Belly ⭐ Wonderful and Warm ⭐ Washed Away in You ⭐ Do You Want to Build a Snowman? ⭐ A Styles Family Christmas ⭐

word count: 3.6k

“Harry, I’m running late do you think you could drop Sterling off at the sitter’s on your way to set?”

You’re already dressed, pulling on your shoes and grabbing your bag and keys from where they were tossed next to the dresser from the evening before. You dart into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth.

Harry pokes his head around the doorframe, a wrinkled shirt in his hand, rushing through his own morning routine, “Thought she was coming here?”

“She can’t today, remember? Today’s our day to drop him off.” You put your toothbrush away just as he joins you, taking the toothpaste from your hand to use for himself.

“Alright, yeah. Y’ll have to pick him up later though, think it’ll be a late one for me today.” 

“That’s fine. I’ll throw his bag together and leave it by the door for you to grab on the way out. He’s already been fed and changed so he should be all set. I’ll transfer his car seat to your car too, so you won’t have to worry about that.”

He still has the toothbrush in his mouth, so you stand on your tiptoes to give him a peck to the cheek, adding a “bye, love you!” on your way out the bathroom door.

“Wait..y’don’t have anything else to say to me before you leave?” His mouth now rinsed, he crosses his arms and leans against the doorway, a tired smile working its way across his lips.

“Um..be careful? Don’t drive too fast with Sterling in the car.” 

“I never drive fast,” He takes a quick peek in the mirror, running his hands through his messy curls before turning back to you, “S’that all? Nothing else to say?”

You search your brain, trying to remember anything else you may have forgotten, “Oh! Right..”

His face lights up then, thinking maybe he was gonna finally hear the words he’d been waiting all morning to hear from you.  

“Make sure you tell the sitter there’s an extra pacifier in the right side of his bag that she can leave there in his cubby in case we ever forget one..and that I’ll drop a pack of diapers and wipes off when I pick him up cause I know he’s running low.”

His brow furrows slightly with disappointment, but you’re too busy to notice, blowing him another kiss before rushing out the door of your shared bedroom and down the hall to get Sterling’s bag ready.

He’s still pouting as he opens his top drawer to select a pair of socks for the day.

He couldn’t believe you forgot it was his birthday.

In your opinion, 6 weeks was not long enough for maternity leave. You’re sure no amount of time in your happy bubble with Harry and Sterling would’ve been enough. 

You were somehow able to push those 6 weeks to 12, your boss kindly agreeing to let you do what work you could from home. Eventually, that extension had to come to an end though and there was no other way you could avoid returning to ‘normal’ life.

You’re an hour into your work day but you still can’t shake the feeling that you had truly forgotten something. Harry’s words from the morning ring through your head again and again but you still couldn’t pinpoint what was special about this particular day. It was a Monday..was there some sort of significant anniversary from your relationship over the years, something small but important to him? 

You grab your phone when you have a chance, a quick lull in your morning that allows you to scroll through your phone’s calendar to double check anything your phone may have not yet notified you about. There’s nothing saved, and it does nothing to jog your memory of what importance today’s date holds. 

A text from Anne comes through and your heart stops when you read the message: Tell the birthday boy his present from me is on the way! I was a day later than I should’ve been sending it out so hope he won’t be too upset with me. All my love to you and Sterling as well!

No. Oh no. Guilt bubbles up through your chest and you cover your mouth to stop from cursing too loudly and scaring your nearby coworkers. You have to steady your hand so you can navigate your way through your contacts to Harry’s number, trying to calculate where in his schedule for the day he may be now. It was too early for him to be taking a lunch break, but you silently prayed he would be on a break in between filming scenes that would allow him to answer.

He had told you in the past that even if he wasn’t able to have his phone with him, it was always nearby. Especially now that you had Sterling, he tried to make himself available no matter how busy his schedule would be for the day. Even if he wasn’t able to answer, he would always make time to call back. 

So when you try 2 times with no success of getting through, you stop. You had both agreed before that 3 calls was your distress signal, and you didn’t want his mind to think the worst when he did see you’d tried to get through to him. A text seems too informal, too little for the man you love and adore. He deserved better than that, better than you, a partner who forgot one of the most important days where he should be made to feel special and loved every second.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know this day was coming, you did, of course you did. Being a new parent had well and truly ruined your memory. Turns out birthing a tiny human requires learning a ton of new information to keep your little one alive, meaning that even almost 3 months later your brain hadn’t been fully restored and you weren’t sure if it ever would be. 

How could you make up for something like this? You suppose you could pretend that it was all a joke; that you’d had this elaborate plan all along to surprise him and make him think that you had forgotten his birthday. But you couldn’t lie to him like that, it would only cause you to hate yourself even more later for covering it up. Plus, Harry knew you too well and would see right through that, and then whatever hurt you’re sure he was feeling now would only grow. 

You know he would eventually forgive you, if he hadn’t already, but that didn’t stop guilt from overriding your thoughts. If anything it made you feel almost worse knowing that he would be so incredibly forgiving.

God, you could only imagine the reaction of the fans if they found out. Some of them already had some questionable opinions about you, a few even going so far as to speculate if Sterling was truly Harry’s child, claiming that you had somehow “trapped” Harry into a relationship with you and that it would eventually fail. Harry had tried to ban you from going too deep, but sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to scroll through Twitter or Instagram occasionally. It usually ended with you getting your feelings hurt and Harry having to remind you once again to stay away.

You try to find something in your memory, anything that he may have mentioned wanting (or at this point even needing) over the past few months. Aside from the mundane, everyday things like laundry detergent and shampoo to add to the shopping list, you couldn’t recall a thing. You only had 6 hours before you had to pick up Sterling, so you had to come up with something fast, something amazing.

What do you get for the golden boy who has everything?

You couldn’t believe you didn’t think of it before. It was something you had discovered not long after Sterling’s birth, but like many other things it had gotten easily dismissed and pushed down to the bottom of your list. 

Today, it only takes a few clicks through the website, a double checking of the spelling of the name that will be on the certificate, and a quick selection of a location for where you want it to be for Harry to now be the (hopefully) proud owner of his very own star in the sky.

After all it was Harry who found the name Sterling for your child, it was him who whispered “buonanotte nostra piccola stella” each night as he helped you put Sterling to bed; a phrase he had been most pleased with himself for learning, the Italian to English translation being “goodnight our little star”. If he couldn’t be there to say it, he made sure you knew the proper enunciation of the expression so that you could pass it along from him. It was always followed by 3 kisses to the top of his son’s head.

Thankfully, you were able to use the printer at work to print out the certificate and the map, slipping them both into a manilla envelope and tucking it away in your bag before you clock out for the day. Though you wished you had time to stop and select a nice frame, you only have 30 minutes before having to pick up Sterling, so you opt for a speedy trip to the nearest bakery and grocery store to gather what other supplies you’ll need for the rest of the evening.

By the time you and Sterling make it home, you still haven’t heard anything from Harry. You send up another silent prayer, more for his safety than anything, but also selfishly for yourself and his forgiveness towards you. It wasn’t unusual for you to not hear from him most days, and you remind yourself of his words from that morning about most likely having to work late. 

You push away the guilt that threatens to invade your thoughts again, doing what you need to do for Sterling to keep him content while you start preparations for dinner. Once you have him settled in his swing nearby, you take a moment to scroll through your music selection on your phone, deciding that having something playing in the background would be better than being alone with your thoughts while you work. 

You’ve just washed the veggies to chop for the salad when your phone dings, indicating a new message. You know it’s from Harry, and you’re almost scared to look. Instant relief floods your body when you do have the courage to take a peek: Home in an hour. Love you! Give bub kisses from me xx

The “love you” fills you with overwhelming comfort; takes you back to the day you first met him and how your heart skipped a beat when you realized it was you he was trailing through the crowd of people to approach, a cozy smile plastered on his face. You’ll never forget the gentle way he had spoken and how even though you were surrounded by at least a hundred other people at the party, he didn’t take his eyes off you the whole night. You let out a huge sigh of breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in and contemplate the best way to respond, finally concluding that simple was better.

Be careful, baby. Love you more!! Bubs and I miss you

His text gives you more motivation than you already had to power through making his favorite meal for him. An hour is plenty of time to get everything done, so when Sterling gets fussy and wants to be held, you tuck him against your side, doing what you can with one hand while keeping a tight grip on your son. You know he had missed you when he almost instantly relaxes at being close to you, and your heart hurts at the thought of ever being away from him again, even for something important like your job.

It still takes you a minute to get him calm enough to rest his head on your shoulder, so you don’t hear the sound of the door, or the clink of Harry’s keys or the sound of his footsteps falling down the hallway.

“Need some help, lovie?”

His voice, which normally calms you, nearly makes you jump out of your skin. So when you turn and say, “I thought you said an hour!” it comes out more like an attack than grateful to see him again.

“S’what I thought but we rushed through so I could leave earlier. Is that a problem?” His face is unreadable, somewhere between confused and disappointed with your tone.

“No! Of course not, Harry, I just..” That’s when your voice breaks, your guilt and emotions of forgetting his birthday finally being too much to hold back.

“Hey, don’t do that,” He’s moving the rest of the way through the kitchen to you, a hand smoothing a small circle over your back as you try to wipe your tears, “Please don’t cry.”

“I just wanted to have everything ready by the time you got home, to make up for this morning. For forgetting it was your birthday in the first place. I’m so sorry, H.” 

“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, angel. You don’t have to make anything up to me. We’ve both been crazy busy lately, I’m surprised I even remembered what day it was. Here, why don’t I put Sterling in his swing and help you finish dinner?”

“No, absolutely not. It’s your birthday and I know you’re tired. Plus, I think he missed us today. You know how much he loves his swing but I didn’t get very much done before he got upset.”

“Alright, well, I’ll take him while you get everything else done. How’s that sound?”

You nod an agreement at his plan, transferring Sterling from your shoulder to his. There’s a few whimpers of disapproval, but he lets out a small sigh of contentment once he realizes it’s Harry who holds him now. Harry turns his head to smack a few kisses to the baby’s cheek to further pacify him. Sterling’s eyes open briefly, gazing sleepily up at his father. 

“Hi, bub, missed you. Let’s go see what kind of trouble we can get into while Mummy makes dinner, huh?” 

“Not too much trouble, boys. It’s almost bedtime,” He winks at you as he turns to leave and you stop him, “Hey, wait, try this. Tell me if it needs anything.”

You stir a spoon through the pasta sauce you’ve had simmering away on the stove, bringing it to his lips with a hand underneath, careful not to drip it down the front of his white button-up or the top of Sterling’s head. He lets you feed him the spoonful, but doesn’t take his eyes off your lips.  Before you even have time to ask him how it is, he’s trapping his mouth against yours, a satisfied hum at the sauce mixing with the taste of you.

“Delicious.” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, catching a bit of sauce that ended up smudged at the corner of his mouth.

“Really?”

“Really, darling, it’s perfect.” 

At this point it’s obvious he’s not talking about the sauce, and you push yourself up to plant another kiss on his lips.

“Another,” He gently demands, and you oblige, but he doesn’t pull away yet, “C’mon, few more.”

“Looks like Sterling’s not the only needy baby in this house tonight. How many more kisses do you need?”

He smirks down at you, “It’s my 27th birthday, innit? Think I deserve 27 kisses, don’t you?”

You send him away with the promise of fulfilling his request for the rest of his kisses later, finally able to rush through finishing the last of what was needed to complete the meal and call him back to see the table full of everything you’ve prepared. 

Sterling is bright eyed in Harry’s arms again, and you hope that feeding him will lull him back to sleep for the night. With him having to stay with a sitter on the days that you and Harry were both working, you’d recently had to switch to using bottles for some of his meals. The sitter had assured you that he was adjusting to the bottle well when he was with her, but it had been a frustrating transition for you. 

“You’ve just spoiled him to the usual way, love. It’ll get easier. Want me to try?” He holds out his hand, offering to take the bottle and Sterling back, but you refuse. You know Harry’s right, it will get easier eventually, but right now you know he’s just still tired and hungry. So you give in, lifting your shirt and tossing a blanket over him while he eats. 

“Eat so you can blow out your candles and then open your present.”

He sets a plate of food in front of you and passes you a fork so you can eat with your free hand.

His mouth is full of food but his green eyes light up when he looks at you, “I have a present?” 

“Of course you do. It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” 

“Can we skip cake and do the present first?”

You giggle at his excitement, but the truth is you’re nervous. You know he will be nice enough to tell you he loves it, but you also know him well enough to read the truth on his face. 

“Sure, birthday boy, whatever you want.” Sterling’s finished eating by now so you rest him on your shoulder, tapping his back a few times until you hear a small burp. Harry’s plate is mostly empty now, as is yours, so you tuck Sterling into his swing while you go to retrieve the envelope from earlier in the day. Your heart races as you may your way back to where he sits at the table, his eyes covered dramatically as he waits.

“You can open,” You slide the envelope in front of him and prop your chin up on one of your hands as you watch his fingers work to open the clasp. The papers sit upside down on the table and you inhale a deep breath as he flips them over. His face is full of curiosity as his eyes scan the page. 

“Did you..is this real?”

“Well I’m not sure how official it is but, yes, it’s real.” You take the map from behind the certificate and point out the location, “According to this it’s..”

“Is my star right over our house?” His eyes are wide as he studies the coordinates, “Can we go see if we can see it now?”

How can you say no to that? You let him lead you out the back door of your home and out into the cool air of the night. He only lets go of your hand when he reaches the edge of the yard, pointing straight upwards.

“It’s gotta be that big one, right? That mine, right?” You look over his shoulder down at the map and then back up to where he’s pointing.

“Yep, I think that’s the one. Unless..do you have the map upside down?”

“No! Do I?” He squints his eyes, bringing it closer to his face in an attempt to read it in the dark. 

“You definitely did. It’s that one there..to the left of the big one we thought was yours.”

“S’gorgeous, baby,” He tugs your hand until your smushed against his side and he tosses his arm around you, letting out a deep sigh as he continues to stare up at the sky, “Thank you so much.”

“You really like it?” You’ve got both arms wrapped around his middle now, enjoying the feeling of his chest rising and falling.

“I really do, angel. Can’t believe you named a star after me twice.” 

“Twice?” You tilt your head upwards to look at his face.

“Yeah. Twice. That one,” He points up again, “My favorite one though, the greatest gift you will probably ever give me, is probably snoring in his swing right about now.”

As sweet as the moment is, you can’t help but snort out a laugh at that, “If he’s anything like you, he’s definitely snoring right now.”

“Hey, I don’t snore!”

“Oh yes, you do. Feel like I’m sleeping in a cave with a bear sometimes.”

That earns you a big, booming laugh from him, and he pulls you even closer to kiss the top of your head. You turn your body to face him, squeezing him once and kissing his chest through his shirt.

“Happy birthday, Harry.”

“Thank you,” He places his hands on either side of your face, thumbs rubbing along your cheeks, a slow smile sneaking its way across his face, “Can I have the rest of my kisses now?”

The next time Anne and Gemma come to visit, he’s sweeping them down to the end of the hallway leading into your living room, to where he now proudly shows them the framed certificate and map sitting side by side on the wall. Of course they had both already heard about it before. The day after his birthday he had spent 10 minutes on the phone with each of them bragging about it. He’s got Sterling in his arms as he shows it off now. He holds him up next to the two frames.

“How lucky am I, huh? Not every man can say they have two stars named after them, can they?”

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

as always likes, reblogs, replies, and feedback are welcome!

tag list: @1980holland, @summertimestyles, @la-cey, @tbslenthusiast​

[siriusmydeer]

hey bestie, how about fluff prompt 10 with ron or harry?😁😁😁

the spiral of weather

ron weasley x reader

summary: you and ron share a rain kiss.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: self doubt, insecurity, swearing, weird teenager awkwardness, swearing, kissing, mentions of being sick

a/n: i hate this, thank u isa for inspo without u i would be crying rn, u can so tell this is rons pov by the amount of times i used the word ‘bloody’

ron he had a problem— not a problem, one might say. instead he had a nagging pronouncement that he couldn’t dismiss no matter how much he desired to do so in that halfwitted mind of his.

he had never felt the emotional wave of burn or passion in his lifetime as a teenager, that was till his eyes were strictly met with yours for the very first time. you’d think an eleven year old could possibly decipher feelings of yearning and endearment but, here we are years later.

books, movies, and even life normally if you were someones best friend the relation between the two parties happened to remain completely platonic. unless you were the cobalt-eyed, red-headed boy who happen to be the youngest son of the weasley family.

then that is in fact, not the case.

across the library you were irritatingly endeavouring cormac mclaggen with charms, attempting to explain how to flick your wand in the correct direction of a cheering charm. he took it upon himself to grab your hand and guide your hands together in the motion of his hand holding your hand, that was grasped on the wand.

classic bloody flirt.

ron was coerced persuaded, by hermione to finally catch up on the arithmancy homework that had been buried beneath his four poster messy bed stuffed in a sweaty quidditch bag. whilst hermione was attempting to explain the newest lesson from the class that ron could not be less bothered with.

his gaze could almost set a ring of fire into cormacs left sleeve on how strict his gaze was. the weather out earlier was ideally sunny, idyllic to hang out with your friends outside and possibly for a swim in the black lake. that was rons plan to pose towards you, maybe harry and hermione as well; but mostly you.

now the sky had ombré shades of washed-out dreary grey and depressing indigo. if the weather channel had existed in wizard culture it definitely would’ve called for overcast and a high percentage of downpour.

but when it came to romance hermione could be a bit numb in the head and decided to whisk him away from you, giving yourself a sweet opportunity for a free day that cormac just swooped right in an took it to his bloody advantage.

he was contemplating— he was contemplating so hard his brain could blow to bits if was possible. i mean he was a wizard after all, what wasn’t possible?

hermione clapped her smooth hands in front of his grimaced face, paying almost no mind to her peers that had glared in her direction from the disruption of noise.

“bloody hell, ‘mione! be anymore subtle would you?” rolling his eyes in the direction of the brunette who offered a ‘hermione scowl’ as ron and harry would say, in response.

“be anymore subtle would you?” she mocked. “you look like your about to go over there and snap his neck for godric’s sake! just talk to her, your so oblivious ronald.” she chastised, completely aware of his feelings towards you.

hermione knew? how would she know? who else knew... did you know? was he to obvious? should he have made a move? his brain could’ve been moving atleast a billion miles a minute on his overwhelming questions surrounding your possible reviprocations of feelings.

he looked at the smirking brunette for a moment, extremely bewildered but her bluntness. he raised a scarlet-brow in thought; if he was feeling gryffindor, reckless and impulsive or ron, some-what sensible and hidden.

he was a gryffindor after all.

getting up from his sear, the chair making a a smell reverberate at the sudden friction between the oak-wood floor and the cherry-coloured chair. clacking his shoes against said-oak floor creating a beeline directly to your sat figure with mclaggen.

your brows creased at the noise, diverting your eyes around the library and seeing the towering redhead walking directly over to you. your eyes widened for a moment, your (e/c) irises perfectly clear for viewing.

before you could even stutter out a word he got a grasp on your forearm, rapidly pulling you out of the library and into the somber courtyard. “merlin, christ, ron! give a girl a damn warning first, nearly gave me a heart attack!” your breath extremely rigid at his swift pace when guiding you away from peering eyes of both of your schoolmates.

“do you like mclaggen?” his voice was sputtered, almost like he said the question before he could even muster it as a thought.

if you’re eyes were wide before, now they looked like they were bulging straight from your eye sockets. “are you drunk? high? under the influence? potioned—“

“answer the question!”

“absolutely not, i would rather have offed myself than have feelings for someone else. plus i’m interested in someone else...” you trailed off in sentence, accidentally letting it slip that you in fact fancy someone.

paying no mind to the fact that you basically had confessed your feelings he nodded his head in a forward direction, offering a walk. you shrugged once before keeping in step with him around the courtyard.

“lavender brown, hmm...?” you offered, attempting to create a conversation with him; possibly making it more awkward.

why would he flip if you liked mclaggen? he was... alright looking, played quidditch, and an alright student. i mean there’s no big deal or anything of a sort.

“oh no, i fancy—“ drop.

oh.

oh?

drop.

it was raining.

“we should probably—“

“err, yeah....”

both of you peering up at the gloom sky above, small raindrops quickly pattering down on the both of you. you sped up your pace as well as ron attempting to get shelter in the downpour that was rapidly approaching as the both of you.

the continuous patter on the ground cause a few absent puddles into curvature of the grass surrounding the castle, causing small muddy hollow patch right beneath your left foot.

“oh!—“ you suddenly spoke, grabbing into the nearest surface your hand could grapple at; rons ashen coloured sweater.

his hands caught onto the curvature of your torso, holding you into a dip-position. one of your hands had grasped onto his bicep and the other on the bend of his muscular shoulder.

“well that was... quick?” clearing your throat awkwardly, looking into the sheen-cobalt irises of your best friend.

“i fancy you.” he spoke briskly, nonchalantly telling you how for the past five years he has been irrevocably besotted with you and essentially how he would die without not mowing if you reciprocated those feelings.

that was a bit melodramatic, but you understand the idea.

“you fan— wow that was fast, i didn’t even get a moment to like— think, maybe?”

oh my god, are you an idiot? i mean, who responded like that, like ever? the boy you had single handedly, pined for just admitted that and you say, ‘wow that was fast.’

he madly spun you onto your feet, both of you completely drenched from the recurrent downpour looking upon both teenagers. clothes anxiously sticking to your skin, and attempting to maneuver you hair behind your face.

“ron, why’d you— why would you want someone like me? i mean have you seen yourself, compared to me? ‘m just— ‘m not good enough.” you trailed between sentences, panting like you were out of immense breath but only overwhelmed trying to differentiate your thoughts.

maybe ron had drank to much butter beer, maybe he had an epiphany, but he was truly not taking no for an answer today and did all the work himself. he clasped both of your cheeks in his freckled palms, forcing your eyesight into his stare.

“have you gone absolutely mad? what do you mean, ‘i’m not good enough.’ i mean you’re one of the smartest people i know! and you’re always helping people, you don’t slap me across the face when i’m stupid most— stupid all the time! i mean i’m a bloody git and you still put up with me, i truly don’t know how, but you do! and y’know you make me want to be a better person and all that bloody crap, but y/n, you are worth it! so don’t tell me you’re not.”

the boy huffed in one sentence, trying to prove your worthiness not only to you but what was standing right in-front of you. not only just ron, but the way this would effect your relationship. after all that, even if you rejected him for his sake, the friendship would never be the same. could you take a risk? put it all on the table, for the first time in your life and possibly make something worth it?

you stood there frozen, but your eyes moved erratically to study his face. his pale ivory flesh, slightly down-turned pointy chin, full salmon-coloured lips. the study could go on, how you memorized every micro-detail of the boys face.

normally the scarlet-haired boy would’ve been the one in doubt; over himself, his peers, his schoolmates, his friends, and most-likely his family. but right now he didn’t have one single doubt in his mind, his only thought was wanting you.

you may not have been godric gryffindor himself, but you were impulsive on decisions, even the ones that you were petrified to make. so you kissed the boy, slotting his slightly chapped lips with your smooth strawberry tasting ones.

feeling the new and odd comforting taste of pumpkin juice, and spearmint bleed onto the curvature of your tastebuds. one of his hands taking a grasp at your hip, kissing you with all the vitality he had left. feeling the blearily daze of adrenaline scamper right through his veins, going immediately to his head.

he was completely, and hopelessly in love with you. the amount of intimacy he felt kissing you beneath a brewing storm was unmatched to anything or anyone else.

you pulled away for a moment, seeing how his lips tried to reattach to yours in such a quick paced moment. you snickered for a moment, the dread leaving your system second by second.

wanting to feel the eternal warmth and happiness the boy granted you, were you still a bit unsure, yes. but ron would spend his last dying breath proving himself to you.

“if we stay kissing in the rain, one of us will catch a cold.” your whisper was barely coherent over the boys pants, and the repetitive rain patter that beveled from the sky.

“i’ll take care of you.” he offered with a slanted smile, his vision bleary from admiration.

“‘course you will.”

of course he will.

taglist: @ronbrokemyheart @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

[boop-le-snoot]

If life gives you melons...

Ship: Loki x F!alt! reader

Rating: Explicit / word count 5,5k

Summary: You've heard about meet-cute, how about meet-ugly? Reader has tattoos and a tongue split. There's this joke that "bisexual alt girls go looking for a girlfriend and end up with sad, tall and skinny white bois" and boy did that hit home. Inspired by this cringy video of Hiddles [youtube link].

During a panel at a comic con, Loki notices reader and they go on a date, reader gets railed: top!Loki, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, all the good stuff. Open ending, with a bonus of reader and Loki pranking Clint.

x. I usually fancy they/them pronouns for Loki but seeing as it's a smut-shot, I decided to go along with he/him for the sake of simplicity. Loki's at least 6'4 tall and you can fight me on that. Also, I write like a Tony stan - I feel the need to apologize to Loki stans for that. I love you guys! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

The long line of people appeared to be neverending. Loki was an enhanced, as the government recently had adopted a politically correct term for Earth's non-human inhabitants, but even his enhanced endurance had begun waning due to sheer amount of people wanting a piece of memorabilia signed by The God of Mischief. Loki had gained a considerable amount of fans after doing his part in killing the mad titan Thanos and by extension, saving the world. It turned out, humankind was a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Loki's hands ached where they wrapped around the pen that he'd been using for nearly 4 hours to neatly place his name, written in neat runescript, on various pieces of merchandise that his fans (and wasn't that a strange thing!) presented to him. He used to think that he would have actually succeeded conquering the earth if he had a grasp on how to use social media and his charm; now, he just wanted the torture to end. An involuntary sigh left his mouth when he saw another print of himself in full battle gear being placed in front of him by a reasonably attractive young woman.

"Um, thank you," She stammered, giggling softly, and Loki spared her a painstaking smile, scribbling his name once again. The woman briefly caught his eyes. "Um, you're the reason- the inspiration for me. I became a stripper."

Loki blanked, feeling his eyes widen and blink on their own accord a few times. He wasn't sure if he heard the woman correctly, as the unusual statement made his brain freeze.

Loud snickering from behind the blushing woman interrupted the system error that he was experiencing in his head. It wasn't often that somebody managed to render him speechless. It looked like whoever was in line behind the stripper woman had taken advantage of that. Loki's eyes snapped to the short-haired person, who looked torn between cringing and breaking into embarrassed laughter.

The stripper left without a word, and as Loki picked up the cursed writing instrument once again, the short-haired person smiled at him kindly. "That was a little weird," They snorted, "And thanks, have a nice day Mr. Loki."

"When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic," Another woman, that appeared to be the short haired person's friend, deadpanned and gave a cynical side-eye to the departing stripper. Loki heard snickering coming from the short-haired person and quietly joined himself. The woman noticed it, winking at him as she collected the newly signed t-shirt. "Bye," She smiled kindly.

It was a split second decision, really. Something about the cheeky way she addressed the situation sparked Loki's interest. "Wait, you forgot something, darling," His baritone called out to the departing woman. She turned around, confused, and hastily grabbed the standard issue photo that he was holding out to her. With a final grateful nod, she smiled and left.

If Loki's smile had returned for the time being, none of his teammates made any remarks on it. Only his brother, Thor, gave a couple of knowing looks to the Asgardian sorcerer.

The woman in question didn't think twice about the photo that she stashed in her backpack along with the signed t-shirt. The Comic-Con had been full of people and the lines were unfairly long. The sheer exhaustion after attending a 3-day long convention had set in and she was eager to simply come home back to her apartment and crash on the nearest soft flat surface. Upon arrival, she did exactly that, flopping down gracelessly on the couch, her backpack landing next to her with a careless thud.

Unloading her trophies was a short time affair: a single white tee with a dozen signatures on it, written in what she hoped was waterproof Sharpie; one mug, shaped like an Iron Man helmet; one poster, showing Spider-Man on a picturesque NYC horizon and a signed photo of one Loki. Strangely enough, she did not remember requesting it - not that she was complaining. Free merch was free merch.

The front side wasn't signed whatsoever. Overcome by curiousity, she turned it around. A phone number was written on the back of it, the handwriting neat and the letters obviously being inked out by a thinner, more sophisticated pen than the one Loki had used for scribbling on the tee. The woman gaped silently, not believing her eyes. Did Loki himself had given her his phone number?

One margarita and a hefty helping of Chinese takeout later, the numbers persisted staring back at her mutely, the neat cursive being almost mocking in its quiet. The woman's smartphone had found a comfortable place right next to the photo, equally mum regarding the unusual situation.

An additional margarita was needed to gather the courage required to actually type out the number in the receiver box. Fruity alcoholic concoction in one hand and phone clutched in the other, the woman's eyes squeezed shut tightly as soon as the dreaded "Hey, got your number today! :)" read delivered. She'd typed and erased the message several times, groaning in embarrassment. How the hell does one approach an alien god?

"Hello! May I ask your name?" The response came after a brief moment - a moment the woman had suffered through by taking too haste sips of her drink, her common since screaming her to not overdo it and wait at least a full minute before replying. Everything felt awkward and misplaced.

In no time, she was sending the screenshots of the conversation to her girl-advice group chat that consisted of her closest friends. Chatting with Loki turned out to be surprisingly easy and he was great at upholding conversation, something that couldn't be said about all those Tinder matches she had had back in the day.

Even if using proper grammar during a text message conversation was something she had to reacquaint herself with, she was glad he wasn't just another boring, shalllow, condescending-ass white boy. Despite the cultural differences and his lack of knowledge of things like pop culture and music - something he said he was working on since New Asgard became a sovereign state on Earth - they bonded over music and tattoos and generally being rebellious against society's standarts.

The invitation to dinner didn't come as a surprise for the woman. She agreed happily, looking forward to continue their conversation outside of the internet - if Loki's part of the chat was anything to go by, not only was he charming, but also quite intelligent. And easy on the the eyes, too. They had traded selfies at some point and the Asgardian didn't look any worse in a hoodie and sweatpants than he did in his battle leathers. Loki had appeared to truly have had integrated into Earth's society.

The night of the date, the continuous text exchange did very little to calm her nerves. Loki texted as much as an overeager teenage boy: every now and then he would double-text and grossly overreact to her sending a simple meme. In fact, he smugly conveyed the fact he'd single-handedly started a meme war between the Avengers and even Steve was forced to participate; something that was, allegedly, out of character for the blonde man.

She didn't mind. Not like she had many friends to have so much fun with. Even if it took her twice the time to do her favourite eyeliner style, it was worth it. She hoped Loki would appreciate the bold, but classy make-up and the dress and shoes combo that accentuated her assets. Her date expressed curiousity about her tattoos and the difference between her preferred style and the humans he spent most time with. She guessed secret agents were not particularly fond of anything that made them memorable so she held out quite the hope for... Showing off some of her tattoos in a more private setting.

In other, simpler words, the woman came in prepared for both a friendly, leisurely stroll and a quality night. Either way, it would be a time well spent.

Loki's shiny, raven hair was impossible to miss as he towered over the rest of the people waiting by the restaurant's entrance. He wore tailored black trousers and a simple cashmere sweater, perfect for the evening's damp, cool air. Tall and lithe, Loki was mouthwateringly handsome.

"Come here often?" She wormed her way through the crowd, causing the man to smirk down at her. Her cheeks flared from the tiny gesture alone.

"Just waiting for a friend," Loki uttered lowly, extending an arm towards the woman, which she gracefully accepted as they made way towards the entrance. "Reservation for Loki," The Asgardian stated to the hostess, who, after a rapid doube-take, led them to a private, secluded area in the back of the restaurant.

Loki shouldered the slightly awkward interaction with grace, paying no mind to the girl. His focus was solely on his date and he was nothing but gallant as he took the woman's purse and held out the chair for her to comfortably sit down. As a prince, he was taught well, she mused.

"Usually I would ask 'what brings you to our little ball of water and dirt?' but I think we can skip that part," The woman stated with a sheepish grin, idly flicking through the menu and curiously eyeing the items that were unfamiliar. The desire to try something new fought with the possibility of accidentally ordering something too far out - like snails or other things that rich people fancied, for some reason.

Loki's greens briefly appeared over the top of his menu, grateful and sparkling. "I think it's best if we do just that," For a second, he looked away, before returning to the menu. "I can think of better things to discuss. I recall you didn't finish telling me about that college friend of yours, who was an anarchist... I'm dying to know..."

The waiter came and went, barely noticed by the pair, as they both poked at something that sounded the most familiar for both of them. Stoically, Loki admitted that Tony Stark did the booking for him and the woman reluctantly acquitted she wasn't very familiar with upscale establishments, being of middle-class background and working a middle-class job.

Interrupting the story she began telling hours ago, the woman took the time to point out the things she was familiar with on the menu and advised Loki to stay away from - like the aforementioned snails, and other things, slimy and salty things that she considered to be 'disgusting but rich people liked it for some reason'. The conversation slowly progressed into Loki telling her the mischief he got up to at the feasts Odin threw. The Asgardian shared the woman's disregard for influential people doing gross things to show off.

The food was good - it was really hard to miss with a traditional Italian lasagna - and seeing Loki shovel an obscene amount of food was an experience, but she didn't comment on it, tactful enough to consider his alien biology might have different dietary requirements that her human one. It was great, really, that she could order dessert and not feel guilty about it.

The gelato melted in her mouth like sweet ecstasy and she moaned with her next bite, only partly aware of how obscene really was the noise.

Loki's hand stuttered on it's way to his mouth. Wide-eyed, he stared at her lips, at her mouth, where her tongue lapped up the small drops of dessert from the spoon. "Why the split tongue?" The Asgardian finally gathered his wits, having had a good look of what he was sure was a trick of the eye at first.

She grinned, acutely aware of the effect that particular body modification had on men. "I like being different. I embrace the weird." She giggled, not at all ashamed, sticking out her tongue and wiggling both parts of it teasingly.

Loki's Adam's apple bobbed; "Weird?" He raised his eyebrow, fighting to maintain his previous cool composure.

She nodded. "Weird," She retorted coyly. "I usually don't divulge the details at least until the third date. Wouldn't want to scare my potential suitors off," The playful wink was the proverbial cherry on top. He was hooked, his eyes darkened, following the plump arch of her lips as she took another spoonful of the treat and savoured it, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

It was pornographic.

"Obviously, Midgardians don't know what's good for them," Loki scoffed in his usual bored monotone, fully aware of how fitful his attempt to conceal his excitement was. He sounded needy even to his own ears.

"And you do?" She pushed away the empty plate, chastely patting her mouth with a napkin. The raised eyebrow and the little smirk spoke volumes.

The grin he wore was hardly anything but feral; he asked for the waiter's assistance by flicking his wrist in an impatient fashion. Once the bill was paid and the woman's cardigan found its rightful place on her shoulders, Loki once again took hold of her arm, this time holding her smaller body against his larger one, taking care to slow down and keep his strides shorter.

She found the coolness of his presence refreshing in the moist, heavy air of the New York city.

"Where to, milady?" Loki asked her, looking down at the woman fondly.

"My place is a block away. Walk me, good sir?" She gave a delightfully easy smile in return.

He nodded, letting her lead the way, allowing himself to get a little bit lost in their shared presence, a little bubble of them in the middle of a busy city. It was as if someone had quickly turned down the volume of the honking cars and noisy pedestrians around them, leaving the soft breeze and the sun slowly descending below the skyscrapers. It felt far too short, partaking in the comfortable silence together, skin tingling under the thin layers of cloth where they were touching.

The sun was trapped in the strands of her hair as she smiled at him from her doorway, worrying her lip between her teeth. It was a bittersweet moment.

"A kiss good night for the good sir?" She asked hopefully, eyes darting between his face and his mouth.

Loki obliged, resting his palm flat on the door frame, towering over the woman as he gently slotted his thin, cool lips against her warm ones. The woman stood on her tippy toes, eager, placing a hand on his chest. The pair melted into the kiss - it had no business being this mind-blowing, brain-freezing for two people that have not met until that very day. The woman didn't refuse when Loki probed with his tongue, requesting entrance to her mouth; she licked into his own with fervor, fisting her hands in the soft fabric of his sweater.

With the hand that was free, Loki pulled the woman flush with himself, feeling the heat of her start a fire of its own inside of him. Her breathing rapid, the gesture only served to tighten her hold on his sweater, until a soft, barely audible moan slipped into his mouth, causing his brain to quickly reassess the situation.

Regretfully, Loki pulled away, clearing his throat. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," He meaningfully looked at the array of doors around them.

"I thought you'd never ask," She retorted with a fond eyeroll, tightening the grip on his sweater once more, to pull him inside her apartment and shut the door behind her. The awkward moments were few and in between; neither knew who reached for the other first, mashing their mouths with less grace than before, clutching at the other's arms and hips with hunger.

This time, Loki didn't hold back his own muted groans of satisfaction, shivering when the woman's hands snuck under his sweater and the simple tank top he wore underneath. Blunt nails scraped along his abs.

Step by step, she pushed him further inside her apartment, determined in her small quick strides. There was no mistake of their destination; no mistake in her desire: she was as hungry and as impatient as him. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, long arms extending to unzip the top of her dress to reveal a simple but tasteful black lacy bra covering her breasts. The woman barely noticed the action, stepping out of her dress as soon as it hit the floor.

He admired her. Inches of soft skin covered by intricate ink, some patterns bizarre and complicated, some beautiful in their simplicity. Loki couldn't wait to find out about the meaning behind every one of them, to trace the lines with his tongue and sink his teeth into the heated flesh.

The hands that were holding onto him for dear life tugged on his sweater and he chose to simply vanish it, too preoccupied with looking at the view in front of him. She gasped and her eyes met his: uncanny, magnetic emeralds shone with magic and power and desire.

"Fuck," She more mouthed than said, walking backwards in a trance until her shins hit the bed.

Loki grinned, advancing on the panting woman with the grace of a predator. "Darling?" His tone was innocent; his expression was anything but. His large hand encompassesed the side of her face, thumb running over her bottom lip in a possessive gesture that had her squirming in her place. He loved the way she just melted into his touch.

Their lips met again, slower this time. The kiss was once again graceful and unrushed, allowing them to explore the softness of each other's skin, mapping the arches and valleys with gentle strokes of their palms. The broad expanse of Loki's back was uneven, riddled with scars and blemishes, and she mapped every single one, blunt nails raking down it as she pressed into him, arching into his hands where he held her.

The soft flesh of her ass, barely covered by a scrap of black lace, was shamelessly grabbed - the woman didn't doubt there would be marks left - letting her feel his arousal pressed against her belly, hard and twitching. She didn't resist her desire to ge handsy and palmed it, taking note of the gasp and the twitch coming from the man occupied with the clasp of her bra. In no time, it flew away, forgotten somwhere the very moment Loki's palms took over her breasts, running a careful thumb over each nipple.

"Fuck," She parroted her previous statement, equally breathy and considerably more aroused.

"That's the plan," Loki's chuckle was hoarse.

She huffed, biting her bottom lip before reaching out to swiftly pop the button of his trousers, smirking at the hiss the friction of her palm produced against his cock. It shouldn't have surprised her that Loki was a commando kind of guy, but still, she gasped, partially from the ministrations of his clever fingers, partially from the mouthwatering sight in front of her. The thick, flushed length made saliva gather in the corners of her mouth.

He must've heard the audible swallow. "Not so haste, darling," He tutted, giving her relaxed body a gentle push, causing her to land on her back, heated skin against the soft duvet of her bed. "Let me taste you," A thud; Loki had dropped to his knees, using his large palms to spread her legs, opening her up to his eyes.

If his previous work hadn't made her so pliant, so aroused, she'd have been rendered speechless; instead, the woman arched her back, presenting herself and the desire that had pooled down below. The Asgardian chuckled, fingertips soft against the scratchy lace.

"Tease," The woman moaned, outstretching her arm to guide him but quite unable to reach him. She had to settle for squirming in her place, receiving a fraction of the desired traction against her swollen lips.

"Am I, love?" Loki asked her sweetly, caving enough to dip a single finger to run along the outside of her slit. It glided easily thanks to all the moisture gathered there, lips parting easily before his touch. The panties were vanished away promptly, another finger joining in immediately to rub slow, precise circles around her clit.

She keened low and long, fisting the fabric in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Loki knew what he was doing. It didn't take him very long to slide his long digits to the welcoming heat of her opening, dipping them inside until she began to make the noises he so craved. His mouth followed after that, long agile tongue drawing senseless shapes on the inside of her labia and dipping deeper, where her clit stood out engorged and slick.

He could smell the bittersweet of her arousal, mouthwatering and hot.

"Loki, fuck," She moaned, only half-coherent and partially aware of her own hips following his every stroke, every flick. He only advanced, hitting that sweet spot inside her with every stroke; the sparks traveling up her spine quickened with each time she changed his name like a prayer. "Loki, Loki, Loki..."

He growled, attaching his mouth firmly to her clit, and she arched for the final time, coming undone, squeezing around his fingers and gushing in his mouth, the obscene sounds covered by her own scream of delight and his impatient growling. The growling that sent shivers of aftershocks throughout her body.

"Darling, you taste so sweet," Loki groaned, still panting.

She took the time to open her eyes: Loki looked comically out of place in her bedroom, he dwarfed her bed and made her feel small, but it didn't matter at all at that very moment. His erection stood out hard and proud; despite the leg-shaking orgasm just moments ago, she wanted more, she wanted to taste him, she wanted to feel him inside-

With unsurprising agility, one swift motion was all it took for her to rest comfortably against the pillows, his throbbing member resting against the juncture of her thigh. She tasted her own release on his lips, however brief, whispering a weak, "Please," aching to feel the emptiness.

"As my lady wishes," Loki's cool breath ghosted over her cheek. She waited with baited breath until the tip of his manhood breached her, exhaling a moan into his neck and immediately wrapping her lips around a patch of skin as he stretched her so sweet.

Loki's arms shook slightly as he waited for her to adjust. He kissed her, soft and sweet; there was something vulnerable in him, something as sweet as the ache he'd taken away. Once he began to move, slow and fluid, all there was left was an all-consuming need to feel. As graceful as dancer and with a deadly precision, Loki pounded gasps, moans and screams out of the woman's slack mouth, kisses turning hungrier and sloppier by the second.

"So sweet," He cooed, relishing in the snug grip of her cunt around him.

She only keened in approval, too far gone and unused to the intensity of the feelings from a man with centuries of practice and the power of a god.

His thrusts slowed gradually until he was rutting into her, grinding his pelvic bone into her clit. The gasps and screams turned into drawn-out, longing moans; her hips followed his, meeting in a slow, sensual motion.

Loki was not a patient man. He withdrew - she gasped in protest - flipping the woman over on her fours with ease, taking but a split second to admire the curve of her body presented on display for him. Just for him.

With that thought burning in his mind, Loki sheathed his cock deeply inside her spasming cunt. It was nearly unbearably stimulating and only his own desire to prolong the bliss held back his own impending orgasm. That, and his own ego; he was naught if not a generous lover.

She slurred something, quiet and incorrigible, fucking back onto his cock as eagerly as he was plunging into her heat. The hand he'd placed on her shoulder promptly wrapped around her throat in hopes of lifting her close enough for him to hear the words but instead, it sent a full-bodied shiver throughout her. Loki grinned, tugging her that much closer.

The arch in her back looked quite uncomfortable yet she didn't mind; it was the exact opposite, in fact, her cunt tightened around him, drenching his shaft down to his balls. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his thigh, the sting of pain going straight to his cock-

"Loki, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" She slurred, gasping for air.

He weakened his hold on her throat enough to let her gulp the so-needed oxygen. It was her undoing: was it the rapid pace of oxygenated blood traveling to her brain or was it his cock, mercilessly pounding against her g-spot - she was violently spasming around his cock, much like she did around his fingers not too long ago.

It felt like ages, her crescendo coming in waves with no signs of stopping any time soon. Loki's continuous thrusts, his hips slamming into hers, her skin feeling like molten lava.

"Gonna fill your sweet cunt with my seed," Loki moaned lowly, holding her up by the throat, the other hand leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the outside of her hips. "Mark you from the inside out," His voice had gone into primal territory, growling filling up the room.

"Please..." The woman rasped, oversensitive.

And he pleased, with a series of sharp thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt in her, the force of his release making her shudder and moan once against, going limp in his arms. Loki kept her in her place until every drop was inside of her cunt. Nothing was sweeter than that.

The Asgardian didn't bother with getting under the covers to hold her, conjuring a soft, comfortable throw in modest green, to cover their nudity. He didn't need the extra warmth but his companion was by far more fragile and sensitive to these things- Loki's fingertips traced the array of bruises he'd left in the wake of their passion, expression surprised as he found the woman smiling.

"Feels nice," She supplied meekly, eyes half-lidded, face trusting and open towards him.

He gave a small grin in return, placing a chaste kiss atop her head. "Yes, it does, darling."

Time after time, she didn't expect much out if their date. The sex was nice, nice enough for both of them to want seconds and thirds after their rushed first time - but it wasn't like she expected him to hand around. It was a pleasant change from the usual mutual ghosting she'd done with her previous partners, but Loki had texted again and they had resumed their conversation via text like nothing had happened.

No, that would be incorrect. Now, she had a wonderful friend who was a great conversationalist and an even better lover. There was no pressure to put a label on their relationship so the woman didn't bother with it; it didn't seem like Loki cared about the label, either, so she left the topic alone and enjoyed things the way they were. It wasn't like she had a line of suitors anyway.

She couldn't help the smile that creeped onto her face when she unlocked her phone and saw a video call request from other than Loki himself. She still had thirty minutes worth of lunch break to waste and this was a wonderful time to chat with a friend.

"Stark, hand it back or I swear to Norns-" Loki's voice sounded agitated and far away, accompanied by sounds of a struggle; the bearded, smug face on the screen was not who she expected at all. Only years of customer service and low bullshit tolerance combined stopped her from freaking out seeing none other than Tony Stark smirking at her from the screen of her phone.

"Yes?" She arched an eyebrow, taking note of the anger of Loki's tone.

"Hi, I don't think I need to introduce myself," Stark babbled, eyeing her - disheveled and with a wall full of sticky notes and miscellaneous items acting as the background to her video. "Reindeer games refused to show you to us so we decided to persuade him," Tony's grin grew wider, muted whispers being rapidly exchanged in the background all the while Loki screeched "BROTHER!" and various expletives at the top of his lungs.

"You could've, I dunno," She paused, unimpressed. "Asked me to dinner, like a normal person. Instead of stealing, you know, like a thief," The eyeroll that she performed had the team worried her eyes would fall out of their sockets.

"I merely borrowed his phone, don't be dramatic," Stark huffed, and for a moment, she could see various other people trying to look at the screen and by extension, at her. "So, what is it that you do? Because Smurf over there wouldn't..."

"Oops, bad signal. Sorry, can't hear you properly," Her side of the call suddenly shook and in a moment, she ended the call, not at all willing to deal with people that lacked boundaries. Sure, it might have been Iron Man, but if he was planning on being a snooping asshole, she wasn't gonna go down with that easily.

Exactly five minutes after she had clocked out, an incoming call from Loki had her equal parts excited and mortified. What if..? But he was apologetic. And very angry, swearing in his native language - something that he'd promised to teach her at some point.

"So, Clint did it?" She sipped her beverage, strolling home with the phone pressed snugly against her ear.

"Most of it was his fault, yes," Loki grouched on the other end of the call.

"I vote we get back at him. Invite me over, if he's so inclined to see me, and watch him get humiliated in front of everybody," It wasn't a secret she had her own mischievous tendencies.

"As much as I appreciate your vigour, darling, I doubt the Widow will appreciate you verbally castrating the Hawk in public," He replied sourly, his voice still betraying the faint notes of interest.

"I have a backup plan!" She stated without a hitch. "He'll embarrass himself and I'll be your alibi."

"I'm listening," Loki perked up immediately.

They decided to not to stall and schedule the 'family dinner', as Thor himself dubbed it, for the next available weekend. Loki had made sure Tony's AI had been made aware the trickster would be gone all day, and it took him very little magic and effort to pop in and out of the tower for the five minutes that were needed to execute their prank.

His friend barely managed to keep the snickering at bay as they ascended the elevator to the common floor where the dinner was being held. Not only that, but the woman spouted an area of dark purple love marks, barely obscured by the low turtleneck of her blouse.

She made her introductions and they made theirs. "This affair could use some background noise," She remarked off-handedly, casting a meaningful glance at the TV.

Tony Stark was known for being a great host so he entertained her wishes, flicking on the huge flat screen with a flick of his wrist.

The team froze.

"I... -" The woman stared at the screen, mouth hanging wide open at the scenes that played out. "... am not going to kinkshame, but please turn it off," She stated in a small voice, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the mass of tentacles commencing erotic assault on a woman's body.

Wordlessly, the TV shut down, immersing the room in stunned silence. Loki face-palmed, the slap of his palm against his face echoing in the eerily quiet room.

"Loki!" Captain America, red as a tomato, instantly accused the most obvious person.

Except, he had forgotten one thing. "Loki was with me all day," The woman replied, unkindly. "Do you need more proof?" She tugged on the hem of her turtleneck, exposing an inch of skin marked blue.

The good Captain's face changed the shade once again, venturing very well into beetroot territory. "Who was the last one to use the TV?" Rogers asked, now with a hint of anger, as he stared at a guffawing Bucky.

"I believe it was Mr. Barton," The AI piped up, mechanical voice sounding almost insinuating. Or, perhaps, it just appeared that way.

[idy-ll-ique]

What The Hell, Gyllenhaal, You Could’ve Just Told Me!

Pairing: Jake Gyllenhaal x F!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: None

Genre: Floof

Summary: Y/N is Jake's assistant and he has an interview with Another Man.

Author's Note: I've had enough of not posting so you're getting this. I wrote it a long time ago, I think a few weeks after his actual interview with Another Man. Anyway, I'm posting it now so enjoy!

---

Jake POV:

"Y/N! Where are you?" I groaned as she finally picked up my call. "Outside, open the door!" I got up from the couch and opened the main door to see Y/N rushing towards me. I blinked, she looked so beautiful. Then again, she always did. I ended the call and kept my phone away. "Thank God, where were you?" I asked her as she stood outside, panting. "I'm sorry, my alarm didn't go off, my phone's battery died. I woke up late and then… well, now that I'm here, we should probably leave."

I nodded, grabbing the keys to my car and house. We left the house and got into my car. Y/N, if you didn't know, was my assistant. And she was the prettiest girl I had ever laid my eyes on. "Where to, first?" I asked her. She took out her phone. "Interview for Another Man. Then the photoshoot," she told me. I sighed and she looked at me. "Everything cool?" she asked softly. "Yeah, I'm bored already." She laughed, which made me smile.

"Come on, man! You were so excited about this, I know you. It's something else." I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's nothing, I swear." She stared at me suspiciously for a few seconds and then gave up. "Whatever." There was silence in the car as Y/N opened Instagram on her phone. "Should I put on some songs? We've got at least another half an hour in the car," I said and she shrugged. "Sure! Songs would be nice." I grinned and turned the radio on. 

Y/N raised her phone and I glanced at her. Oh, she loved taking photos. I followed her on Instagram, it was the best thing ever. She posted videos of her dancing and singing. As planned, half an hour later, we reached the office of Another Man. I parked the car and the two of us got out. We walked towards the entrance.

"Oh my God, Y/N?!" At the high-pitched squeal, both of us turned around. Two women walked up to us. "Hi," Y/N waved. "We're big fans! We love your Instagram, you have a beautiful voice!" Y/N exchanged hugs with both of them. I stood to the side, smiling. "Holy shit, Jake Gyllenhaal!" one of them squealed, looking at me. "Hello." I shook hands with the two ladies. "Can we get a quick photo, please?" Their names were Rebecca and Julie.

Julie raised her phone to take a selfie. Y/N draped an arm around my shoulders. My arm went around her waist and we smiled at the camera. After that, they went away. "You're more famous now," I teased Y/N as we resumed our walk towards the building. "Shut up," Y/N muttered with a smile on her face, giving me a slight push.

I laughed, shoving my hands in the pocket of my jeans. "Really though, I agree with them. You do have a beautiful voice," I said as we walked into the building. I saw the interviewer and his crew waiting for us. 

"Aw, thanks Jakey-poo," Y/N smirked and I rolled my eyes. "Don't call me that," I told her and she shrugged. "Okie, Jacob Benjamin Gyllenhaal," she grinned. "Jake is fine," I sighed, waving at her as I walked towards the interviewer. He led me to another room and I glanced back at Y/N. She sat in the lobby on a couch, keeping her backpack on her lap.

The interviewer and I sat down. "Hi, I'm Alex," he said, holding his hand out. "Hi," I smiled, shaking his hand. 

"One question before the cameras roll- Who's the girl outside?" he asked. "Oh, that's my assistant, Y/N Y/L/N. Very sweet gal. She's more famous than I am, apparently," I laughed. "Really? How's that?" Alex asked, amazed. "We met two fans outside, like, 15 minutes ago. They recognized her first," I snorted. Alex laughed, too. The cameras rolled and we began with the interview. 

---

 "Thank you for talking to us, Jake! It's truly been amazing." Alex and I stood up, shaking hands. "Thank you for having me! Do we do the photoshoot now?" I asked him. "Yeah. We have a few sets designed and a few venues as well, assuming you'll be comfortable shooting at different places?" I scoffed, waving my hand. "Of course, I'm cool." Alex then introduced me to Jessie, who was the photographer. "How about I meet you at the bridge?" she offered.

"Sure, no problem."

She gave me the address and left. I walked out of the room and looked around for Y/N. She wasn't where she was supposed to be. Her stuff was there, where was she? "Boo!" Startled, I turned to look to my right. Y/N was grinning at me, wiping her hands with tissues. "Goddamn it," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ha, gotcha. I was in the bathroom, silly," she snorted, walking towards her backpack. She kept her phone away and swung the backpack over her shoulders. 

"Where to, Captain?" she asked, tipping an imaginary cap. I told her the address as we walked out of the building. "You know, I met 3 people while you were giving an interview. I guess I am famous," she mumbled. "That is awesome, Y/N," I smiled, getting into the car. Y/N sat next to me and opened her backpack. "Yo, drink water."

She handed me a bottle of water before I could start the car. "I'm not thirsty." She stared at me with a raised eyebrow until I drank some water. 

I could never deny her, could I? I had a huge crush on her and it was common knowledge that people would do anything for their crush. I handed the bottle back and started the car. The bridge where we were supposed to go was nearly an hour away. "Ah, here it is. I waited for this for so long now, it's here. I'm impressed." What was she talking about? "What?" I asked her.

"News about us dating!" I nearly swerved the car. "The news about us WHAT?!" I asked her loudly. 

"Calm down, you big baby. Apparently when we met Rebecca and Julie there were paps around and they took a lot of photos. You know them, always printing the wrong news," she rolled her eyes. "Well then, Miss Famous, post it on your Instagram, tell them we're not dating," I grumbled. I did want to date her, though.

"Ah, good idea." She opened Instagram and I could hear her long nails clicking against the phone as she furiously typed something out. "Done," she said a minute later. 

"What did you write?"

 "I had been waiting for news like this. LMAO, I'm not dating @jakegyllenhaal I'm his babysitter," Y/N chuckled. "You wrote that?!" I yelled. Y/N burst out laughing. "Kidding, I wrote assistant, don't worry," she wheezed. I sighed in relief. A few minutes passed by in silence.

All of a sudden, Y/N's stomach started growling. "Shit, sorry," she whispered, blushing furiously. She clutched her stomach. "Hungry?" I chuckled. "Yeah," she sighed. "Wanna stop by, get some food?" She quickly shook her head. "No, we'll be late, then." I frowned. 

"It doesn't matter, you do. Come on, tell me where you want to eat," I said and she continued shaking her head. "It's alright. After the shoot we'll catch a snack, for sure," she insisted. I gave up. "Do you at least have snacks in that bag?" "Sure," she mumbled, taking out a toffee. She peeled off the wrapper and ate it. "Did you eat breakfast?" I questioned. "Nah, I was late, remember? Didn't bother," she shrugged.

"Not done, you gotta eat," I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, dad."

We reached the venue and I parked my car at the start of the bridge. The bridge was isolated for the shoot. "Aren't you getting down?" I asked Y/N when she didn't move. "I'm fine," she muttered, looking away. What happened with the sudden mood change? "Okay," I said slowly and closed the door after getting out. I kept the AC running for Y/N. Jessie was on the bridge, waiting. "Oh, hey, Jake! Ready?" I gave her a small smile. "Sure." She walked away and I leaned against the railing, sighing.

"Everything alright?" I heard and turned to look at the guy working on the lights. "Yeah, I'm fine," I told him and he nodded. "Alright, huge smile!" Jessie called out from a few feet away, holding the camera up. I managed a smile. Jessie was about to click the photo when she frowned. "Come on, man, not genuine. What's up?" Ignoring her question, I gave a broader smile. She simply lowered the camera, staring at me with a raised eyebrow. 

"We need authentic smiles, Jake. Do you want to shoot a little later when your mood is better?" Jessie asked softly, walking towards me. "Please! How about 2 hours later?" I sighed, relieved. "It's Y/N, isn't it?" I stared at her, shocked.

She only gave me a knowing smile. "I'm just like you, Jake. When my girlfriend is unhappy, my mood changes as well. Go make her feel better, then return when you're done," Jessie chuckled, patting my arm. I nodded and started walking away. I didn't even have the heart to correct her about the whole 'girlfriend' thing. 

"Also, what happened? Did you two get in a fight?" I turned around to face Jessie. "No, I… I found out Y/N did not eat breakfast and she was really hungry… but she refused to eat because I would be late to this shoot. She doesn't care a lot about herself because of me. I feel… guilty," I explained in a tired voice, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well then, I would definitely suggest feeding her first if it would make you feel better," she laughed. I gave her a small smile and walked towards my car. 

When I reached, my eyes widened. "Y/N, what the fuck, what happened? Why are you crying?" I hastily opened the door and sat in the driver's seat. She sniffled and wiped her tears. "I'm fine, it's just… whenever I'm super hungry I get all moody and sad because my stomach hurts and- Wait, are you done with the shoot already?" she questioned, confused. "No, we postponed it, we're up 2 hours later." I started the car. "What- Where are we going, Jake?" she asked as I drove to the nearest fast food restaurant. 

"We gotta put some food in that belly."

Y/N chuckled and I felt a hand on my thigh. "Thank you," she whispered, laying her head on my shoulder. "It's okay." We fell silent. "Did you postpone the shoot because of me?" Y/N asked quietly a few minutes later. "Yeah. I felt bad that you didn't eat for a long time and I couldn't smile for the photos. Jessie figured out it had something to do with you. She suggested we postpone, actually," I told her truthfully. "You're too sweet." 

Y/N pressed a kiss to my cheek and I smiled. We arrived at a McDonald's drive thru. We collected our orders and I drove back to the bridge. I parked the car in the same spot as before and turned to Y/N. 

"After you, milady," I smiled, gesturing towards the food. She took off the covering and bit into the burger. "Thank you so much, Jake, you're the best boss one could ask for," she squealed and I chuckled. I took out my phone to quickly check my Instagram while Y/N ate. I wasn't hungry, I didn't order anything for myself. When I heard a giggle, I looked up. 

Y/N had sauce all over her lips, pretending it was her lipstick. I opened the camera app and discretely clicked a photo because she looked too cute. With a smile, I returned to Instagram. "Wanna share?" Y/N questioned and I looked back at her. She was holding up the pack of fries. 

"Nah, I'm cool. You're the one who should be eating!" I told her. "Come on, man! You bought me two goddamn Big Macs and I was barely able to finish them! Eat this with me!" She shook the pack of fries in front of my face. I sighed and picked out one. We shared the pack of fries. 

Y/N was in a much better mood after eating. We had half an hour to kill after eating before we were back on schedule. "So… Y/N, tell me something about yourself." She narrowed her eyes at me. "What?" she deadpanned. "Come on, we've got nothing to do. Talk to me," I whined. "Well… what should I tell you?" she shrugged. "Your favourite things," I smiled. 

"The colour red, red roses, winter… the song Happy Now by Zedd…" she said, counting on her fingers. 

"That's nice, but I've never heard of the song," I shrugged. "Oh, no? The one that goes you're a world away, somewhere in the crowd, in a foreign place, are you happy now? There's nothing left to say, so I shut my mouth; won't you tell me, babe, are you happy now?" A smile bloomed on my face as Y/N sang. "Sing it for me," I blurted out and she looked at me. 

"Okay, let me put on the karaoke." Both of us took out our phones. I opened Camera and kept the video recorder ready. 

"Are you recording?" Y/N sighed, putting on the karaoke. "No, I'm on Instagram." Y/N believed my lie and started singing. She sang the first verse and the chorus. After she was done, I ended the video. "That was awesome! People are right, you do have an awesome voice," I told her with a grin. "Great! Your mood has improved, Jake, go for the shoot," Y/N said with a smile. "Only if you come along." Both of us got out of the car. 

Jessie was talking to someone but turned as soon as she saw us. "Oh, hey guys! I hope you're fine now," Jessie snorted, looking at me. "I'm fine, honestly," I laughed. "Great! Let's get to work!" The photoshoot was a huge success. I had broad smiles throughout because everytime Jessie clicked a photo, my eyes were on Y/N. 

---

"Ya know, Jake, you shouldn't cut your hair."

Y/N and I were back at my place. "What? Why?" I asked, running a hand through my hair. "I think it's a good look on you. I like men with long hair, so when you're like, cuddling, you get to play with their hair," Y/N smiled, not looking up from her phone. I stared at her, a smile on my face. A few seconds later, Y/N looked up, wide eyed, cheeks as red as a tomato. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't- I-" I chuckled and got up from my place on the couch. I sat down on the floor in front of her. 

"Jake, what are you doing?" Y/N whispered as I took her hand. "Do whatever you want," I told her, placing her hand on top of my head. I heard a small chuckle and felt her hand combing through my hair, massaging my scalp. "Your hair is so soft," Y/N mumbled. 

"Thanks," I chuckled, closing my eyes. This was so soothing; I leaned back, laying my head on her lap. I took my phone in my hand and put on some songs. A song, specifically. All Your Days by Shallou and Emmitt Fenn. 

Y/N started singing along. I smiled, I could never get tired listening to her, her voice was absolutely angelic. "Hey, Y/N?" She made a humming noise. "Wanna get coffee later?" I heard her laughing and looked at her. She was grinning at me. "Are you asking me out?" she teased. "Yeah, actually," I whispered, eagerly awaiting her response. 

She leaned over and wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a tight hug. "Of course." I smiled, hugging back. 

"So, like… have you liked me for a while now?" Y/N questioned a while later. I was sitting next to her now and she was snuggled into my side. "You agreed to be my assistant around 5 years ago, right? I've liked you for the past 3," I answered truthfully and she sat up. She looked at me, an eyebrow raised. "You've lived with your feelings for 3 years now?" she asked loudly. 

"The most difficult three years of my life," I joked. "What the hell, Gyllenhaal, you could've just told me," she laughed. 

"You've liked me, too?" My jaw dropped. She nodded and I pulled her back in my arms. "If only we were bold enough," I laughed. She opened Camera on her phone. "I'm taking a selfie, join me." She smiled at the camera. That smile turned into a grin when I kissed her cheek. I watched as she opened Instagram, put a long caption and posted the picture. 

Alright, paps, you win this one. It wasn't one-sided; turns out, he's interested in me, too. Guess who's going on a date this evening with @jakegyllenhaal? 

I laughed when I read the caption. "You're a pro at coming up with Instagram captions," I told her. "You learn from the best," she winked. "Aw, thanks!" I said, touched. "What, no, I was talking about Ryan Reynolds." Y/N burst out laughing as I shoved her, frowning. "I'm kidding, stupid," she laughed, falling back against my chest.

---

A/N: Please ignore typos/mistakes, it’s just a fun, light-hearted fic. Thanks for reading, do like if you enjoyed it! Follow me for more fics, the masterlist is in my description (this reads like a YouTube outro lmaooo)

[cassidyisnowdrawing]

He was going to kill Sun Wukong.

He was going to wrap his hands around his furry throat until he begged for Pigsy to stop, and then he was going to do it more. His eyebrow twitched in anger, he could feel the migraine starting to form behind his eyes as his temples pulsed.

He had just watched his kid twirl that damn stick around again. Clumsily, without the proper form or foresight to use it. A misaligned spin nearly sending the bowls resting on the counter flying, he quietly slide them back slightly as MK continued.

What was that stupid monkey thinking? Giving a kid, his kid, an all powerful weapon and what amounted to be superpowers. Telling him all he had to do was "believe", in himself before sending him to face an enemy three times his size and years of experience ahead of him. A teenager with no experience facing of the equivalent of a demigod.

It still makes bile rise in the back of his throat if he thinks too long about it.

"MK!" His kid snapped to look at him "Quit twirling that thing around in here, or so help me you'll be on dish duty for a month!" The kid froze mid-swing a look of terror passing over his face at the threat. Before a sheepish smile stretched across his face, " Sorry, Pigsy!"

"You better be, if I have to replace anymore bowls, it's coming outta your paycheck." The kid blanched slightly, drawing his staff close to his chest, "Wow, did you hear that I think I-heardMeicallingmegottagobye-!"

His kid was such a bad liar.

He tries not to let a fond smile pass over his face as MK trips over the door frame. Barely righting himself before taking off towards the direction of the arcade. A fondness settled in his chest for a moment, expression softening.

He never wanted kids.

He was always too prickly for kids. His anger used to rule him with an iron fist, his past littered with bad decisions and constant pain. Even as he began to settle down in his age and opened up the shop, finally doing something *useful* in his life, he knew he'd never *truly* have a family.

It changed the day he found MK.

He'll never forget it, every detail played back crystal clear in his mind. He'd finally managed to close up the shop, his back twinging in pain, the work never got easier especially when you started getting older. He hoped Tang at least attempted to clean up their shared apartment, the freeloader got enough free noodles to at least warrant some extra housework. He was about to lock the door when it happened.

He didn't even have time to prepare himself for the impact.

It had come from the side alley, a streak of yellow, white and red. A small body barreling straight into him, too lithe to actually do any real damage. He could the familiar anger simmer in his chest as he grunted in pain. He snatched the collar of his offender, easily lifting them and looking to the eyes of a- kid?

It was a kid, no older than sixteen.

He looked disheveled, clothes soaked through and dirty, hair scraggly and a touch greasy. Too skinny, far too skinny for a kid his age, but what punched the air out of his lungs was his eyes. Big eyebags underneath, brows pinched together, and a look of pure unadulterated fear seared on his features.

"Kid, what the hell-" hands gripped his arm where he still held the kid aloft. "Please," a raspy whisper escaped the kid, "Please, they won't stop chasing me andIcan'tloosethemandIdon'twanttodie-!" The kids hands shook, "Kid, kid slow down!" He set the kid down only for him to scramble back into his form.

"Please! Please--!" His voice cracked with desperation ,tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. He could feel his heart tug painfully at the sight. How much trouble was the kid in if he had to beg and plead with a random adult he'd physically ran into to step in?

Advancing footsteps sounded from the alleyway along with voices.

The kid flinched in turn ,form shrinking and eyes squeezing shut. Despite Tang's teasing ,Pigsy did in fact have a heart, so that really left him no other choice. Yanking the kid by his arm, he threw open the shop's door and hauled him in. "Sit there and do not move," he pried the death grip the kid had on him off.

The kid looked meek and afraid as he took in the place.

Pigsy simply rolled his eyes and pushed him down into the nearest chair. Peeling off his chef's uniform he set it on the kid's shoulders. "Keep an eye on that for me, and don't touch anything." The kid wrapped his hands around the fabric and watched as Pigsy headed back outside.

Tang wasn't happy when Pigsy called him to come down to the shop so late. He was even less happy when he saw that Pigsy was bloody ,bruised and apperently missing a tooth. He got over it when he saw the kid trying to seemingly hide behind him.

He'd won and he'd do it agian.

It all spiralled from there, Pigsy and Tang learned MK was hard to keep track of and even harder to actually find, despite their best attempts. Sometimes, he'd pop up at the noodle shop to say 'hi' or loiter outside their apartment when it rained. It had taken months of hard work and trust to get the kid to stay for more than a night in their tiny apartment.

Tang absolutely adored the kid, in his own weird-nerdy way and Pigsy had a soft-spot for the little trouble maker. It hurt to see such a bright smile dampered by hunger and fatigue. He and Tang tried to help the kid multiple times, but he was stubborn and didn't listen. Resolute to not take advantage of their kindness, despite repeated times telling him that was not the case.

Tang was the one who told him to hire MK.

"If he feels like he's pulling his own weight, he won't run. We can even put him in the room above the shop." Pigsy could see the reasoning, a way to inadvertently help and keep MK close. MK had cried happy tears when Pigsy told him he'd be able to live upstairs if he accepted the job, Pigsy simply patted his shoulder awkwardly. Tang helped him with his resume and Pigsy rearranged upstairs.

Three years MK had been in his and Tang's lives.

So he thinks he's a little justified in his anger. He thought he'd watch his kid die for God's sake! The nightmares plagued him on a constant replay of that moment-over and over and over agian. The flames swallowing his kid as he hauled away the other, because MK would never forgive him if he let Mei throw herself after him.

His nightmares that only doubled when the kid let slip that he had his "mentor" lock away the only thing protecting him from harm.

So, no, he wasn't really Monkey King's biggest fan and he was certainly tempted to deck him when the opportunity presented itself. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Pigsy released a sigh, tension radiating off his body in waves. He rolled up his sleeves and set himself back to work.

One day, one day him and Sun Wukong were going to have words.

[magniloquent-raven]

See What This is Worth

Harringrove Week of Love: Day 4

Teacher AU || School Dance

Rated: T

Read on Ao3

Billy is not, by nature, the kind of person who likes to be overly helpful. He doesn’t go out of his way for people he doesn’t know. He’s not especially charitable. 

And yet here he is, taking time out of his Friday night, setting up tables and supervising idiots with no upper body strength who think they can move a whole stack of chairs on their own. He has better things to do than hang out at work and chaperone a bunch of middle-schoolers trying to score their first kiss to some truly grating top 40 shit. 

He didn’t even like school dances when he was a student. As a middle-schooler he was too fucking terrified that some girl might ask him to dance, so he just never went. And in high school...well. He ended up more the type to get high in the parking lot and ditch with whatever chick was too drunk to notice he didn’t put out. 

There was never a boy he liked well enough to do this shit with. Get dressed up and pretend not to want to dance and get flustered when he so much as touches a hand. No one in school was worth suffering through this shit for. 

Until now, unfortunately.

He’s a grown-ass man and somehow feels like a dumb, lovestruck teen and it’s all Steve Harrington’s fault.

Him and his fucking face, and his ass, and his looking unfairly good in a suit. 

He looks good in his stupid dorky khakis and paint-splattered apron too, but holy shit Billy never really got the phrase cleans up nice until he saw Steve in formal wear. His hair all combed neatly for once, wearing a blazer and slacks that have clearly been tailored. 

Billy is seriously considering sending a thank you note to whatever tailor Steve visits, because they are very good at their job. 

Good enough that Billy’s spending half his goddamn time staring at Steve’s ass instead of setting up. He’s bossing some volunteers around, gesturing animatedly about crepe paper and streamers and it’s so distractingly endearing that Billy kind of forgets he’s supposed to be doing anything other than watch Steve work.

And he gets caught. Steve turns, spots Billy staring. Scowls. Which is kind of his default expression when looking at Billy. 

As much as Billy secretly wants to have Steve look at him like he can actually stand spending more than five minutes in the same room, the irritated frown kind of suits Steve. It’s cute. And when he gets pissed it’s hot. His eyes get all intense, mouth set in a firm line and Billy may or may not have had a fantasy or two about Steve making that exact face right before absolutely destroying his ass, so...Steve might not like him, but Billy’s dealing. 

By being annoying, but still. 

He wiggles his fingers in a sarcastic little wave, leaning a little more pointedly. He’s been lounging against the wall for way too long, his shoulder is going numb, but he’s not about to scramble to look like he’s doing something just because Steve spotted him.

Steve’s shoulders heave as he sighs, eyes rolling skyward. He hands his clipboard to the nearest volunteer, whispering something before turning on his heel and marching over. 

Billy’s inspecting his nails when Steve reaches him. Stops a few paces away and folds his arms. 

“Something I can do for you, Harrington?” He knows the bored tone gets to Steve, so he plays it up.

“Yeah. You were supposed to be helping Nancy put chairs out. You know, the thing you signed up for?” There’s still an edge to that statement, has been since Billy walked into the first committee meeting with a big, shit-eating grin and Steve glared at him looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel. He always says it all accusatory, like he’s not sure Billy even did sign up, and he’s just hanging around to be a nuisance.

Which, he is, but he’s doing it officially. 

Has his little chaperone badge and everything. It’s pinned to his jacket, which he isn’t actually wearing, but he has it. 

“Got tired,” Billy says with a dramatic weariness, head lolling to the side, rolling back against the wall. He looks up at Steve through his eyelashes. “I’m allowed to take a break aren’t I?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hargrove, you’re telling me moving flimsy plastic chairs tired you out? You’re built like a brick wall.” He puts his hands on his hips and gets the same look he gets when his students start throwing clay around. 

“Are you objectifying me?” Billy puts a hand on his chest with mock-offence, the corners of his mouth turning upward with genuine delight. His grin brightens when Steve’s cheeks flush, gaze darting away, the annoyance flagging a little, replaced with something else for just a moment.

“I’m stating a fact. In a completely...imparted way.”

“Think you mean ‘impartial’.” 

The flush darkens, a splotchy red instead of the petal pink he was a moment ago, and his mouth twists. “Whatever,” he mutters. “You’ve been standing here for like ten minutes, man, get back to work.”

He stalks off in a huff, leaving Billy wondering how the hell Steve knew how long he’d been slacking off for.

Then again, he is in charge, so. He’s probably keeping tabs on everyone. At least that’s what Billy has to tell himself so the butterflies in his stomach don’t get any ideas. 

He wanders off, back to where he was supposed to be, but Wheeler doesn’t actually need his help. She got most of the chairs in place while he was checking out her ex. He gets an impatient brush-off when he half-heartedly asks her if there’s any more work to do. 

She never did like him much. 

Not that he’s bothered, he doesn’t care for her either. She’s too snooty. Up her own ass. Self-righteous. ...and Steve’s ex. 

Rumour has it Steve’s finally over her, but Billy will believe it when he sees it, the man hasn’t been on a date since Wheeler tore his heart to shreds three years ago. 

Heather gossips, okay. She’s nosy, and her family knows Wheeler’s family, who know Steve, and word gets around. These upper class assholes never have anything better to do than talk behind each other’s backs. Especially when the only son of a wealthy family is, at 28, single and teaching snot-nosed brats how to fingerpaint. 

And Billy has a vested interest, sue him. He asks some pointed questions here and there. 

God, he’s never gotten this fucking desperate over a guy before. Pining away. Putting up with Nancy Wheeler bossing him around at meetings because he doesn’t want to piss her off too much just in case that’s the final straw for Steve. The thing that tips their rapport from not-friendly to outright hostile. 

Because for some reason the guy still gives a shit about the ex who cheated on him. Fucking martyr. 

Billy’s not sure if he’s jealous that she gets forgiven and he gets angry glares for no goddamn reason, or if he’s just flabbergasted that anyone would be that self-sacrificing. Both, maybe. It’s a little impressive, honestly. How far out of his way Steve will go to forgive people. 

Except Billy.

Who still doesn’t know what he did wrong in the first place.

Not that it bothers him. No, not at all. He’s just constantly thinking about it, and trying to hold on to every detail of the early days of their interactions so he can analyze those moments for clues, and sometimes lying awake at night wondering if he’s just fundamentally unlovable and he’s never gonna figure out what he did wrong because he just is wrong. 

He’s fine. It’s fine.

Thank god Steve is occupied for the rest of set-up. Always finding someone who isn’t Billy to boss around when he isn’t physically doing something himself. Gives Billy some room to breathe. And watch, like a weirdo.

He gets a couple weird looks from other volunteers but that’s nothing new. Wheeler glaring at him. Heather smirking. That one parent chaperone who’s here early and was making eyes at him at first, but it’s devolved into side-eye. 

He thought maybe the dance actually starting would be a distraction, but it’s just loud. He’s still constantly stealing glances at Steve. While he’s making small talk. While he’s repinning some streamers that got knocked loose. He looks gorgeous, even under the harsh fluorescent lighting of a school gym, and Billy really wishes he had a flask on him right now.

Yelling at some rowdy kids doesn’t help either. Just earns him a dirty look from that one overprotective chaperone mom. No one asked you, lady, the kid was bouncing around like an over-caffeinated gerbil, someone was gonna get hurt. It’s Billy’s job to break that shit up.

He needs a smoke. This is unbearable.

Slipping out of the gym unnoticed is easier than he thought it would be. No one seems to give a shit that he’s sidling out, which is a little insulting, honestly. But useful.

The hallways are quiet. Empty. It’s always a little creepy being here at night. The squeak of his boots on the linoleum, the artificial white light keeping the nighttime gloom out, it always feels a little dream-like. Nightmarish maybe. Liminal. 

He props the door open on his way out, with a chair he lifted from a nearby classroom. The last thing he needs is to get locked out. Embarrassing. He’d probably just leave, but then he’d get chewed out for ditching.

He sighs, turning his face skyward for a moment to breathe before he lights up.

The cool air is a relief after being cooped up with so many rambunctious pre-teens. Billy’s still not a fan of Indiana weather, and he probably never will be, but anything is better than being in there another goddamn second. 

This was a terrible idea. It was barely an idea. An impulse decision that got his ass stuck babysitting on a Friday night just so he could spend more time staring at Steve. 

Pathetic. 

Maybe he should just ditch right now. 

He’s weighing the pros and cons when a familiar voice cuts into his contemplation.

“Hargrove, where the hell did you—” Steve’s face appears when he pokes his head out the cracked-open door. His pinchy annoyed face. He wrinkles his nose when he spots Billy, and the cigarette in his hand. “Seriously?”

Billy shrugs. Puts the cigarette between his lips and takes a pointed drag, cheeks hollowing.

Steve, who was trying to sidle out past the chair, trips. The chair clatters to the ground, Steve stumbling in the opposite direction, arms out and flailing. 

The door slams shut behind him.

Billy gapes, incredulous gaze flicking between Steve, frozen in place, and the closed door. “Seriously?”

“...Shit. I—” Steve grimaces. Runs a hand through his hair, tousling his neatly combed locks. “You have your key, right?”

The glare Billy levels at him is positively icy. “Yeah, no, of course I do, the chair was there for fun. I wasn’t worried about being locked out at all.” 

“Okay, okay, Jesus. You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

“Don’t I?” It comes out far more bitterly than intended. Steve stares at him.

“No? What kind of—” he huffs, loud, frustrated, “What the fuck is your deal, Hargrove?”

Well. That’s a layered question. One he isn’t going to answer even a little bit. He scoffs instead, turning away and taking another angry pull off his cigarette. It warms him but does nothing for the pit in his stomach.

They stand there in silence for a beat. The muffled noise from inside is muted, distant. 

“Fine, whatever,” Steve mutters. “I just don’t get why you hate me so much.”

And he sounds hurt. He sounds sad, and it throws Billy for a loop. Knocks him down a little. But then his chest gets tight, his heart flip-flopping around in the clutches of something caustic and resentful.

He flicks ash in Steve’s direction with an emphatic gesture, a petty vindictiveness. “You’re kidding, right?” he snaps. Steve’s jaw drops, just for a second, surprise passing over his face, before his expression hardens, his mouth snaps shut, jaw clenching.

“Alright, fine, I get it, what’s not to hate.” He clutches his elbows, not quite folding his arms. It looks more like he’s hugging himself. “Good talk.” 

Billy squints at him. The tense line of his shoulders, the way he can’t quite meet Billy’s eye. He’s struck with the absurd urge to pull Steve into his arms. The impulse just pisses him off more. “You know what, princess, you get what you give, alright? You can’t treat someone like shit from the jump and then get mad when they don’t want to be your best fucking friend. Fuck you.” 

“What? I never—”

“Oh, you never? You never asked Heather why she ‘puts up with such an asshole’?” He tosses his hands in the air, air quoting around the phrase, and takes a step towards Steve. “The day after we met? And you never talked over me at my first staff meeting, right? You would never.” Another step. He doesn’t think about it, doesn’t do it on purpose, but he ends up standing inches from Steve. The cold air mists their breath, and it mingles in one seething cloud between them. “You’ve been treating me like the dirt under your shoe since I got here, Harrington, don’t you dare act like you haven’t.”

Steve sets his jaw, a stubborn tilt to his chin. “You were an asshole. I still don’t get why she puts up with you!”

Billy grinds his teeth. He’s asked Heather that himself. With varying degrees of seriousness. It stings hearing it from someone else. 

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be people pleasers,” he spits, hands clenching into fists at his side. To channel his anger, more than anything else. He isn’t seventeen anymore, he can’t just start throwing punches at a co-worker. 

His nails bite into the skin of his palm, sweat stinging the shallow scrapes, and his hands tremble, itch. 

“I’m not—you know what, I’m not doing this with you.” He steps back. Just like that. Like it’s that easy to walk away. Like none of this matters to him, and he’s just...venting frustrations that have nothing to do with Billy. Because Billy doesn’t matter to him. This is about getting locked out of his own stupid party. Or Wheeler saying something bitchy maybe. Or any number of things going on in his life that Billy doesn’t know about because he’s not a part of it. 

And the tumbling, tangling web of twisting thoughts wrap around each other ‘til none of them make sense, ‘til he doesn’t know what he’s upset about he’s just gutted, just standing there in the cold staring at Steve, his eyes stinging and his toes going numb because he didn’t wear his good socks today.

He shouldn’t give a shit about this either, but he does. 

Story of his fucking life, apparently.

Steve’s gaze wanders, looking for what, Billy doesn’t know, but his profile lit up by a dirty streetlamp has got to be the most beautiful fucking thing Billy’s ever seen. He wants to kiss Steve so badly it hurts. 

And he hates that he still does, even when he’s angry. Even bitter and hurting he still wants. 

He flicks his cigarette butt away and shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“The fuck are you looking for, Harrington,” he asks flatly, as Steve cranes his neck peering around the building. 

Steve shoots him a glare. “Trying to remember if any of the doors got left unlocked.” He shivers violently, and sticks his hands in his armpits. “It’s freezing out here, in case you didn’t notice, and I’m not really into the idea of frostbite, so.”

“What, Mr.Born-and-raised-in-Indiana can’t handle a little snow?” Billy sneers. It’s petty, he knows. It’s not fair. Because Steve is out here in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, dressed to be in a sweaty, crowded gymnasium. Billy at least grabbed his jacket before he came out here, knowing he was going to be a while, and he’s still clenching his jaw against the urge to let his teeth chatter. 

The look that earns him is withering, though it’s undercut slightly by the awkward way Steve shuffles his arms around, trying to unroll his sleeves without exposing his fingers to the cold. 

Billy rolls his eyes. “Forget it, pretty boy, Wheeler made her boytoy check all the doors before the dance started. Either wait ‘til someone notices you’re gone or break a window.” 

“Great,” Steve mutters, and shudders again. 

“Why do you still talk to her, anyways?” He tries for casual and misses by a mile. Steve’s eyebrows shoot upwards and Billy tries again. “Just making conversation. We could be out here a while.”

“And that was what you—whatever. She and I are friends. Why wouldn’t I talk to her.”

“C’mon,” Billy scoffs, “Plenty of reasons. You still hung up on her or something? Hangin’ around hoping for another shot?”

“Definitely not.”

It shouldn’t make Billy’s heart leap but it does. Just because he’s not still sniffing around after Wheeler’s granny panties anymore doesn’t mean he has any interest in Billy. “Really now.”

“Yes, really, Jesus Christ. Why do you care.” 

“I don’t.” Billy lies, and looks away, affecting disinterest. He sniffs. “It’s just weird, is all. I sure as shit wouldn’t hang around someone after they cheated on me.”

Steve is staring. Billy can feel his gaze boring into the side of his head. He glances out of the corner of his eye, watches Steve furrow his brow and frown. “It wasn’t—It was more complicated than that. I wasn’t...good. We weren’t good together.” He stops himself, biting his lip, and shakes his head. 

“Hm.” Billy chews his thumbnail. It almost feels like they’re getting somewhere, but it’s so fragile Billy’s afraid to open his mouth and ruin it. The silence stretches, filled only by Steve’s rustling shivers, and Billy’s own unsteady heartbeat. “My car keys are in my jacket pocket,” he ventures, after long enough that the silence has gotten awkward. 

“What! How long were you going to keep that to yourse—”

“Do you want to take advantage of my heater, or not.” 

“Jesus Christ, yes.”

“Alright.”

They don’t talk on the walk over. Snow crunches beneath Billy’s boots, and Steve slips a few times on patches of icy pavement. 

And Billy feels somehow nervous. Like he’s invited Steve to his goddamn bedroom or something. 

Or maybe he’s just worried this tentative peace will end with their conversation going where it always does, blowing up in his goddamn face. But they’ve never actually spent that much time alone, he has no idea how this is going to work. 

Best case scenario it ends with Steve half-dressed in the backseat of his car, but he’s not stupid enough to hope for that.

Fantasize about it, sure, but…

Steve actually being in his car is a surreal experience. Filling the small cab with his clean laundry scent, sweet and subtle, faint enough to be a tease, and he has to restrain himself from taking big embarrassing sniffs to satisfy his sudden craving for more. 

He wonders if the smell will linger. How long Steve will be a phantom presence in his space. 

Waste of time to think about it now, while he’s actually here. 

Billy distracts himself by keeping his hands busy. Fumbling with the keys in his stiff fingers. Poking the overhead button to flip on the interior light. Flicking the dials on his console. The heater’s fan drones almost as loudly as the engine. Somehow the white noise makes the silence less stressful.

Steve rubs his hands together in front of the nearest vent, hissing through his teeth. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t feel my goddamn fingers,” he mutters, the hair on his forehead flopping as he moves. 

“You weren’t out there that long,” Billy chuckles. Steve’s clumsy flailing is stupid endearing, Billy is shamelessly turned in his seat to watch him, the doorhandle digging into his spine, his knee pulled up and leaning on the seat’s backrest. 

“Oh come on, you grew up in California, how are you fine right now?” Steve groans, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. His gaze darts up and down Billy’s form before flicking away again.

It’s common knowledge where Billy is from. He doesn’t exactly hide it. There’s a goddamn Malibu postcard tacked up in his office, pictures of his old surfboard. But it still makes Billy a little giddy that Steve pays enough attention to know that. 

“I run hot,” Billy says casually, and grins, tongue between his teeth. Truth be told, he wasn’t fine, he was fucking freezing, he’s just good at hiding physical discomfort. 

Steve’s cheeks flush a little pinker, and his gaze gets suspiciously focused on the vent in front of him.

“So…” Steve licks his lips, pausing, “Uh. What was it like? California.”

Billy blinks at him. “Warmer than this shithole, for starters.” 

He feels off balance suddenly. First-date-jittery. Which is ridiculous because he’s never gotten first date jitters. And this isn’t a date. Not even close. But still, when Steve laughs quietly it gets the butterflies in Billy’s stomach far too excited. Like he’s ten and discovering the wonders of holding a boy’s hand all over again. 

“I uh. Can’t go back there.” Billy chews the inside of his cheek, watching Steve closely. 

“Why, you a wanted criminal or something?”

Billy snorts. “Glad to know you think so highly of me. No, I meant...lotta shit happened there that I’d rather not remember.”

There were good things too. More good memories in California than after they moved, but that doesn’t stop the awful shit from tainting the whole goddamn state for him. Just makes it harder that it does. 

Hard to want to go back to a place where you almost died, no matter how many times your mom took you to the beach there.

Steve meets his gaze, his eyes soft, and it punches the breath from Billy’s lungs for a second. “Yeah, I get that.” He hums, and tucks his hands between his thighs. The position makes him look oddly demure. “I, uh. Have some experience with avoiding bad memories, y’know. Doesn’t end well. Repressing that kinda shit.”

“Pff,” Billy leans his head back against the window. The cold seeps through his curls. “You sound like Kali.”

“...Who?”

“Biker boots. Side shave. ‘Bout yea tall.” Billy waves his hand around his shoulder. “You met her once. I brought her to that stupid Christmas party couple years back.”

“Oh.” Steve looks down at his lap. “Your girlfriend.”

Billy chokes on his own spit. “What?”

“...Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, no, uh. No. Not even a little bit, man,” Billy laughs a little hysterically. 

“She was your date to that party though, right? Did it not work out, or…?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, and rubs the back of his neck. Steve’s staring, all wide-eyed and confused and fucking adorable. He weighs his options. Wonders how much he should divulge. The easiest way would be to just say no, and move on. The safest way. They’re stuck out here alone and he doesn’t know how well Steve would react to finding out he’s stuck alone with a queer. 

It’s something Billy tends not to take risks on. If guys can’t figure him out on their own, he isn’t going to tell them. But in this case...he’s just annoyed that Steve hasn’t noticed yet. 

And besides, Steve spends half his time hanging around Robin Buckley—who Billy has his suspicions about—so it’s not like there’s no chance Steve would be okay with Billy being gay…

He takes a breath. Exhales slow and stares at the roof of the car. There’s a burn mark next to the rearview mirror where he might’ve stubbed out a cigarette. He’s had this damn car so long he doesn’t remember doing it.

“She’s a friend, Steve. And I borrowed her from her girlfriend that night,” he says, testing the waters. Steve blinks a little, lips parting, but doesn’t react any more than that. Doesn’t seem angry, or judgemental, or disgusted. “I’m not really ready to be out at work. So.” 

“Wait, Robin was right?” Steve blurts, sitting a little straighter, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Of course she noticed,” Billy mutters, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket. He doesn’t ask why Buckley was talking to Steve about him in the first place, let alone about his sexual preferences. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“I mean, she kept going on about lesbian psychic sense, and I told her if anyone’s got a lesbian psychic sense, it’s El, not her, but—” he cuts himself off, flushing. “I, uh. Oh. Huh. Guess I shoulda listened to her when she told me my gaydar was busted.” 

Well. That’s...something. Not the reaction he was expecting. Not that he did know what to expect, but still. “Yeah, you usually need to be queer to spot one,” he shrugs. Like he hasn’t been hoping Steve would pick up on his not-so-subtle hints this whole time, while dreading the possibility with equal fervour.

But Steve freezes then. Shoulders going stiff, his hands stilling. And Billy’s heart leaps. 

“I...” Steve fidgets, his palms rubbing together as he shifts his thighs. “Um. Am. I am. I’m bi.”

“Huh...” Billy licks his lips. “Well, shit, Harrington.”

He wonders how well he pulled off cool and unbothered. It’s usually something he’s alright at, but he’s not usually reacting to the goddamn man of his dreams telling him he’s into guys. His whole chest feels like it’s gonna explode.

“Mhm…” Steve hums, staring at his own hands, his face frustratingly neutral. 

“So.” Suddenly their childish rivalry annoys Billy. When Steve was just a straight boy he was pining after it felt good to punish him for being unattainable. Be up in his space without being too obvious about why. Get him all flushed and bothered in the only way he could. But now… “Why did it take us this long to get here?” Billy asks quietly. He knows his side of the story. Knows his own stubborn asshole nature played its part. But Steve…

His anger from earlier resurfaces. Steve treating him like he wasn’t worth his time, running on a loop in his head. 

He draws his knee up, hugging it to his chest, but keeps the bitterness out of his expression. It’s too likely to end up looking like sadness on his face right now. 

Steve shrugs. “Haven’t we already been through this?” He turns to stare out the window. Billy glares at the back of his head.

“No, Steve, we haven’t. You called me an asshole and then said you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“What else is there to say?”

“How ‘bout an explanation? What exactly did I do to you, pretty boy? And don’t give me that, you were a dick, bullshit, because you hated me from the jump. Way before I did anything to deserve it.” 

And he did, eventually, deserve it. He knows that. Doesn’t make the immediate brush-off feel any better. 

Steve’s back is stiff, and he’s crossed his arms. And he still won’t look at Billy.

Feels like they’re right back where they started, and Billy wants to crawl out of his own skin. He grits his teeth, and hisses, “Listen, I know you come from a family of fuckin’ bigshot lawyers or what-the-fuck-ever, but it doesn’t give you the right to treat people like dirt if they don’t—”

That, at least, gets Steve’s attention. He whips his head around, stares at Billy with his mouth open. “Is that what you think—Billy I haven’t had a real conversation with my parents in nearly ten years, I don’t give a shit about all that.” 

“Then what—”

“You make me feel dumb! Alright? Happy?”

Billy blinks at him. “What?”

Steve groans, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You—you show up here all, all hot and—” he waves a hand, gesturing up and down Billy’s body, “like that, and it was annoying enough that you knew that, strutting around like you own the place, but then you go and open your mouth and—” Steve buries his face in his hands, sighing, rubbing his eyes. “The first time I heard you talk you were explaining some shit about—about—nemo devices or something—”

“Mnemonic.”

“That! That right there, that thing you always do. I get it. Okay? You’re smarter than me. I’m just a dumb art teacher who gets headaches when he tries to read.” Steve throws himself back against the headrest, all furrowed brow and expressive hands.

And Billy stares. Frozen in place. He is, for once, at a loss for words. His mouth works soundlessly as he searches for something to say. But what falls out of him is, “You think I’m hot?” and he mentally slaps himself. 

“Really. That’s your takeaway?”

“No—no, well, I mean. Kind of. Yeah.” He wets his bottom lip. Tongues his cheek. 

Steve groans, “Seriously?” He tugs at a stray lock of hair. “No one who wears pants that tight doesn't know they’re attractive, alright, why is this surprising. I have eyes.”

“Because it’s you.” Billy’s brain slams to a halt the second he says it, shock freezing him in place. Apparently his filter is just fucking broken today, Jesus Christ.

“...What. Y’know what, fuck you, I’m not that unobservant—”

Billy snorts a disbelieving laugh, “Are you sure about that.” 

“Alright, fine, I didn’t realize you were gay, for like, a really long time, but you didn’t notice that I’m queer too, so there!” Steve looks at him, triumphant, like he’s won the argument—if that’s what this even is. And Billy scoffs, stupid, irrational competitiveness tightening like anger in his chest, and—

“It’s not the same, Harrington,” Billy says flatly, heart pounding. 

“And why not?”

“Because you haven’t been after my dick this whole time! You didn’t care if I knew that you’re queer,” he’s almost shouting, frustrated and not even sure what he’s trying to prove, arms thrown wide to punctuate his dumb and nonexistent point, until exactly what he just let slip sinks in. He lowers his hands, clenches them into fists resting on his thighs. Steve hasn’t said a word, he’s just staring, jaw slack. 

“Wait...so—”

“Don’t.” 

“But—”

“Harrington,” Billy growls.  

“Jesus Christ, Billy would you let me—”

“No.”

“I have been though!” Steve yells over him, and it stuns Billy enough that he falls silent. “Dumbass, I have been into you this whole goddamn time, are you kidding me?”

“...What.”

Steve runs restless fingers through his hair, making even more of a mess of it. “Listen, do you have any idea how irritating it was that you’re as hot as you are? I wanted to badly to hate you because you were so fucking annoying, but you were all—” he gestures to Billy, waving his hand around wildly, “like, a fucking...walking wet dream, so.”

“Gee, thanks,” Billy responds, utterly bemused. 

“And then I find out you’re a great teacher, and really smart, and kind of funny when you aren’t being a douche, and suddenly I’m head-over-heels for a guy I’m pretty sure hates me, because I have no self-respect apparently, and—” He stops, chest heaving, eyebrows drawn, and curls in on himself, folding his arms. 

“I never hated you.” 

Steve scoffs, dipping his chin ‘til his face is shadowed by his bangs.

“Listen to me,” Billy scoots forward, wedging his knee over the cupholders between their seats. He hesitates, a hand hovering mid-air while he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. And then touches Steve’s elbow. He jolts, looks up at Billy from under the fall of brown hair hanging over his forehead, his eyes are wide and questioning. Billy presses his fingertips firmer to the warmth of Steve’s skin under his starched dress shirt. “You care about your friends a ridiculous amount, it’s mind-boggling. Honestly. I grew up around people who would’ve barely given a shit if I died, and here you are worrying about everyone in your life, like it’s your fuckin’ job. You’re a good goddamn person, and I wanted…” he pauses, and bites his lip. “I was pissed that I wasn’t one of the people you cared about, alright. Fuckin’ Wheeler gets to be, but I...” He trails off, gestures vaguely.  

Steve’s fingers are cold, sneaking up from under his folded arm to touch the back of Billy’s hand. “You were. You are.” He ducks his head again, the ghost of a smile just barely visible before he disappears into shadow again. “I came out here to check on you, didn’t I?”

“I mean…I was supposed to be helping out inside—”

“Billy, there’s, like, eight volunteers in there, they can handle a bunch of middle-schoolers.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Steve lets out a quiet breath. “I, uh. I’m sorry. I never thought you gave a damn about my opinion, to be honest. I didn’t—I was just…”

“Insecure?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah.” 

And that’s something Billy’s more familiar with than he’d like to be. He squeezes Steve’s forearm. “You’re not stupid, you know.”

“It’s fine, I know I am. Everybody in my life is some kinda damn genius, so. Someone had to draw the short straw.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Steve.” That gets his attention, surprised eye-contact, and Billy tilts his head to maintain it. “I don’t give a shit that your goddamn friends can speak five languages, or understand organic chem, or any of that crap, they aren’t better than you, alright, they’re just nerds.” Steve snorts, and rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips and it makes Billy smile. “Look, you play guitar, right. And you taught that dweeby little friend of yours the chords to his weird song about physics. Wouldn’t have been able to pull that off without at least a couple brain cells floating around under all that hair.” 

“I mean, that was just—”

“That was just something you’re good at. You don’t gotta be able to read Shakespeare to have smarts, you’re just smart about other shit.” 

A blush colours Steve’s cheeks. “I—thanks,” he murmurs. 

Billy doesn’t get a chance to respond.

In the front seat of his beat-up old Camaro, with snow starting to fall outside, gathering silently on the dimly illuminated windshield, Steve Harrington kisses him for the first time. He’s still holding Billy’s hand. One second he’s glancing down shyly, smiling small and crooked, the next…

His lips are soft. Gentle. He kisses like he’s asking permission, barely touching Billy at all. 

Despite the light brush of a kiss, Billy feels it everywhere, lit up with a jolt of electricity right through his chest. He chases Steve when he pulls away, with a hasty press of his mouth, kisses him again. 

And again.

His free hand comes up to cup Steve’s cheek, holding that warmth in the palm of his hand, trying to keep him close for as long as possible. Steve makes a quiet noise against his lips, and his heart clenches, his breath catching in his throat. 

They part eventually, Billy still basking in the phantom sensation of Steve’s smile pressed to his, leaving him tingling and warm. Their foreheads touch, resting together, the point of contact is grounding, the only thing stopping him from feeling like he could float away at any moment. 

“So,” Billy says after a moment, “Fair warning, I’m gonna have to start complimenting you more if that’s how you react to it.”

Steve laughs quietly. His eyes are still closed, so Billy starts counting his eyelashes.

“This some kinda fairy tale, Hargrove? I kiss you and you turn into a polite human being?” 

“Hardly. But I’ll see what I can do about the happy ending part.” 

“The Disney kind, or the massage parlor kind?”

Billy kisses Steve again, grinning. “Both, if I’m lucky.”

And he was.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Anything But Normal

A/n: this was such cute Idea I hope I did it justice. It’s been a while since I’ve written a comedy piece. There are probably spelling errors I’ll go back and fix them later. also I love Jon Favreau as Happy so I had to put him in. (i swear he is one of my favorite actors) btw this is not edited (i’ll come back and do that eventually)

Requested by: @tokiokiedokie​

Warnings: Cussing,(come on it's me guys), partial nudity.

Member: Han Jisung

Summary: When Y/n’s best friend goes through a drastic change he starts keeping secrets. Secrets that include him being New York’s one and only friendly neighborhood spiderman. Shit hits the fan when his new secret life is exposed and she gets dragged into it.

Genre: Spiderman!au, romance, comedy, friends to lovers!au, little bit of angst

There are only three things that truly matter in life. Good friends, good pizza, and a good story. So far I had two of those at the moment. Sadly I was lacking a good story. Our school newspaper had been quite dry despite my efforts to discover new and intriguing stories. 

“Stop sulking and eat.” My best friend said, shoving a piece of cheese pizza in my face. Jisung laughed when I bit the end before returning to look at my laptop. We were at our usual pizza place seated next to the window with the big bright red neon sign lighting up our faces. The sun set over the New York skyline making the moment almost perfect. If only I was writing an exciting article. Instead, I was putting together a riveting look into the school’s menu changes. 

“You know I invited you because I thought you were going to be good company.”

“Please. You invited me because Felix was busy with a stupid Lego project and no one else will eat pizza with you.”

“Whatever.”

Jisung and I weren’t the most popular people in our senior class. To be frank, Jisung was my only friend. So going out and eating pizza every other day at ten o’clock at night was often the highlight of my week. Having had enough of the lack of attention Jisung slammed my laptop closed and removed it from the already small table. “Hey! I didn’t save!” 

“That’s what Google Docs is for.”

He was right. I needed to stop working. I had been slaving over that stupid and boring article all week. He didn’t have to be such an ass though. “You are such a teenager.” I scoffed, watching him shovel yet another slice of pizza down his throat. “Oh, and you are such an adult!” The mocking tone of his voice threatened a laugh. 

“I swear you are God’s punishment for enjoying sex. Everyone’s libido just disappears when you are around.”

“Hey don’t ruin our date. I was considering sleeping with you tonight.”

He laughed when I threatened to smack him. It had been like this for as long as I could remember. Just me and Jisung. My parents had been friends with his before they passed away in a car accident. Now Jisung lived with his Aunt May and his Uncle Ben a few blocks away from me. 

I remember after the crash I would wake to a tap on my window to see an eight year old Jisung on my fire escape. Not wanting to bother his Aunt with his nightmares, Jisung had run all the way to my apartment and climbed the fire escape to my room on the sixth floor. I would open the window and let him sleep in my bed. My eight year old brain used to think maybe my bed was like force field keeping away the bad dreams about his parents.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?” Jisung asked bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“Mr. Finoli asked me to take pictures of the science field trip so I’m going with you guys. Why?” A look of realization crossed Jisung’s face making him freeze. “Did you forget to ask May to sign your permission slip?”

“I forgot to ask May to sign my-...you can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?”

Laughing I pulled a ten out of my wallet and left it on the table. “Come on, you’ve gotta get your slip signed, dummy.” “I can pay, it’s no problem.” He said watching me pack up my stuff. “Nah, you can get the next one.” Bellies full of pizza, we left Tony’s Pizzeria and headed in the direction of Jisung’s apartment, his arm draped over my shoulder and talking my ear off about some random experiment they had done in Physics that day. 

The next day I woke up bright and early to meet the class at the New York Museum of Science. Camera bag on my shoulder and camera around my neck I stood outside the museum with about ten other students and two teachers. My tired eyes brightened when I saw Jisung step out from the subway, May right behind him.

I laughed as he wiped a kiss from his cheek before waving goodbye to her. His dyed blonde hair was messy and blew slightly in the wind. Jisung waved when he saw me and jogged over. His hoodie lazily hung off his shoulder and his shirt and jeans were somewhat wrinkled. “Don’t you look nice?” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his appearance. 

“Shut up.”

He laughed throwing an arm around my shoulder, leading me closer to the group. Soon the tour began and I busied myself with taking photos of the group for the paper and yearbook. Jisung followed the group, only half-listening to the teacher as he looked at other random exhibits. 

At around one in the afternoon, the group moved outside to have lunch on the steps. I sat off to the side with Jisung, his legs spread out across the stairs and his elbow rested on the step above us. It was refreshing to be next to him talking about absolutely nothing. Even if he stole my food. 

Eventually, we were all called back to resume the tour. I angled a shot of two students looking at a bug exhibit, but just as I took the picture Jisung jumped in the frame throwing up a peace sign and crossing his eyes. “Hey! Stop hitting me!” He yelled as I smacked his shoulder over and over again. “Look I’m just innocently observing the exhibit. Leave me alone crazy woman!”

Sighing, I pushed him away and resumed taking photos. As the group was moving onto the next room I noticed Jisung was missing. It wasn’t unlike him to wander off into a room he wasn’t supposed to just to look at probably like some DNA model or some other weird science shit. I could never get over the fact Jisung was super into science when he gave zero fucks about his other classes. 

“Jisung?”

“Ji?”

“Ji, we are moving on,” I said looking for him. My eyes landed on a semi-open door marked ‘Lab’. He wouldn’t. He did. Just as I started to walk towards the door, he exited with a goofy smile on his face. “Y/n! Dude, they have all these cool spiders and test tubes in there it was so cool! One of them bit me!” Like an excited three-year-old, he showed me his wrist where he indeed had a red spider bite. 

“Ooooooh! Take a picture!” 

He shoved my camera into my hands and held up his arm pointing to the spider bite making the dopiest smile. Knowing he wouldn’t shut up until I complied, I took the picture. 

“Let’s catch up with the group,” I said taking his hand and dragging him back to the class. When we reached the group a teacher looked over at us his brows furrowing. “Excuse me, Miss L/n, is your friend okay?” He pointed to Jisung, a concerned expression on his face.

“Jisung? There are certainly things wrong with him but he’s oka-”

My words stopped when I turned to look at my best friend next to me. “Ji- Oh my god! Ji are you okay?” His face had obviously paled and he looked dizzy. A thin layer of sweat lay on his forehead. 

“Hell yeah. I’m doing fine, baby.” His voice sounded drowsy.

“Miss L/n he is not alright. Does he have anyone who can come get him.” The teacher said pulling out his phone. I shook my head. May worked in the day and his Uncle Ben was on a business trip. “No, they are working.” 

He sighed and turned to me. Jisung was clearly getting worse by the second and was wobbling a little. “What about you? Can you take him home?” Jisung laughed and wrapped his arms around me loosely. “Fuck yeah, I’d her take me home.” 

“I have a test in my last period.”

“I’ll write you a pass and send it to your teacher. Take him home please.”

Nodding he typed something on his phone and returned to the group who had started to move once again. “Okay Ji, let’s get you back to May’s.” Slowly we started moving to the exit. Before we made it to the doors, Jisung practically turned green. He pushed away from me and burst towards the nearest restroom. 

“Jisung!” 

Ignoring the looks and yells I followed Jisung into the restroom and looked for the stall he was in. “Hey, lady get out of here!” A man standing at the urinal screamed. 

“Oh please. Get over yourself.”

“Ji?”

Following the coughing and gagging sounds, I pushed the final stall door open. Jisung sat on the floor his mop of blonde hair hanging over the toilet. I crouched next to him and rubbed his back gently. “Oh god, I hate puking.”

“Jisung everyone hates puking.”

“Yeah well.....your face likes puking.”

“Nice comeback.”

Feeling too terrible to respond, he just threw up the contents of his stomach again. When he seemed able to stand the two of us made our way outside and down the subway. Jisung leaned most of his weight on me as I slid my metro pass through the scanner. How I managed to get him through the turnstile and onto the metro I have no clue. Thankfully there was once last seat free for Jisung to sit down in. 

“Y/n, I don’t feel good.” 

“I know,” I said softly as he rested his head against my stomach. The train turned sharply making me hold onto the strap, not wanting to fall into Jisung. Soft whines and groans came from him every now and then. This was the worst I had ever seen Jisung. 

I listened to the stations being called out as I ran my fingers through his hair, hoping that would calm him down a little. We were only four stops away but more people were getting on the train. Jisung looked up at me a sick expression on his face. It changed when he looked at the passengers boarding the car. 

“Here, Ma’am. You can take my seat.”

“Thank you so much, young man.” An older woman said taking his seat as he got up. “Jisung, you feel terrible. Are you okay to stand?” He shrugged latching onto the strap next to mine, his face paling again. “I’ll be fine, it’s only four stops.”

Jisung’s eyes started to droop as the train started up again. His body began to act heavier than it was so he resorted to leaning on me and nestling his head between my neck and shoulder. I did my best to make sure he didn’t fall over.

“You two are very cute together.” The old lady said with a smile.

“Oh- we aren’t--” 

“You better hold onto a good man like that, sweetie. Handsome and kind. Those are hard to come by.”

Before I could respond we turned again, and I had to keep Jisung from falling in this poor nice old lady’s lap. I felt his skin burning against mine. Could this train not go any faster. Soon enough our stop came. I said bye to the old woman and helped Jisung get off the train and up the subway stairs. 

“Come on, Ji. We are almost there and we both know I cannot carry your ass.” 

Eventually, I made it up the stairs of his apartment building to the fourth floor and managed to drag him to his door. “Jisung, where’s your key?” Trying not to hurt his head I propped him up on the door frame. He laughed when I started searching through his pockets.  

“Y/n if you wanted to cop a feel just ask. That tickles.” 

“Jisung where are your fucking keys?” 

“Back pocket.” He said drowsily. I sighed and reached behind him. My hands searched through his jean pockets for the cold metal keys. “Having fun back there, because I’m sure enjoying it.” 

I suppressed the urge to punch him in the stomach out of fear he would vomit all over me. Finally finding his keys, I unlocked the door and threw my stuff inside, before lugging him in as well. Jisung leaned on the couch while I put my stuff on the table.

“Y/n it’s burning up in here.” 

“Jisung, you just have a temperature.”

“It burns like fucking hell! It’s too hot!”

Before I could stop him Jisung was shedding layers like a snake. He tossed his shirt somewhere in the small living room. He was sweating like crazy, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Ji, come on let’s get you in the shower.” I started running a cold shower for him before rushing back to the living room to call May. It would only be a couple hours until she got home, but I should still let her know what’s going on.

While Jisung was in the shower, I grabbed some medicine from the cabinet. I had absolutely no fucking idea how to treat a spider bite. Antibiotics? Hearing the shower turn off I knocked before entering. Jisung had a towel wrapped around his waist and was leaning his head against the wall. “Y/n...”

“I’m right here, Jisung.” Cautiously I led him to his room and watched him collapse onto his double bed. Rummaging through his drawers I found some mostly clean sweatpants. “Ji, do you even do laundry?” 

“Y/n, I feel a little too fucking sick to do chores now.”

“I know. I know.” He slipped on the sweatpants and let me dry his hair. I wrapped his arms, covering the bite so it wouldn’t get more infected then it already probably was. Jisung’s temperature flipped like crazy. One minute he was burning up and the next he was freezing. 

A sigh of relief left my chest when I heard May call out in the apartment. “Y/n thank you so much for taking care of him.” She gave me a short hug before running to go get more meds. She would know better than I would, being an ER nurse. “Ji, do you want me to stay? I can call my parents and tell them I’m staying the night.” He slowly shook his head.

“No, it’s okay.” 

“I can stay really-”

“Y/n, I’ll be fine. You can go home.” 

He gave me a half-assed smile and squeezed my hand. There was no arguing with Jisung sick or not so I gathered my things and left. May promised to keep me updated and I told her I would have my phone next to me.

The walk back to my apartment seemed longer than usual. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jisung. When I got home, my parents greeted me before telling me they would be working tonight. My dad was a cop and my mom worked at a hospital downtown. It was rare they were even home, to begin with. Exhausted from taking care of Jisung, I rolled onto my bed and fell asleep.

This boy really texted me at five the morning telling me to meet him at his locker three hours later. If he wasn’t still sick I would for sure have throttled him. Except for the fact that Jisung didn’t look sick. Not at all. He looked perfectly healthy as he walked down the hall towards me. In fact, he looked...really....good. It pissed me off. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?”

“Yeah, I got better.”

Jisung opened his locker like it was any other day and got his books. “What did you want to talk about?” He sighed and looked over at me. There was something different about him. Did his jaw always look like that? No. No jaw looks like that. 

“So this morning I woke up and like I felt completely fine. In fact, I felt the best I have in years. And this weird thing happened to me on the subway-”

Jisung’s words were interrupted by the sound of his locker closing, only the entire row of metal lockers rattled as his shut. “The fuck? Did we have an earthquake or something?” I asked looking around. “What? No. New York isn’t on a fault line.” Shrugging it off I turned back to Jisung.

“You were saying?” He seemed distracted now, looking at his closed locker. “Ummm.... I wanted to thank you for yesterday.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. “Ji, you don’t need to thank me. I’ll always take care of you if you need me.” As I pulled away his hands stayed on my waist, which wasn’t totally out of the norm. Jisung was always a really touchy and flirty person. It drove me crazy sometimes, knowing that it was just his personality and not him acting on something else. 

“So this weird thing happened on my way to school this morning. My hand-” Again Jisung was interrupted. This time by the bell ringing for homeroom. “Hey Jisung, I’ve gotta go, but you can tell me at lunch right?” He nodded, his expression becoming more uneasy. As I turned his grip on my waist stopped me.

“Ji, I know you wanna tell me now but I have to go!” I said with a laugh. A nervous breathy laugh escaped his lips as he tried to pull away from me. “Well, you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you.” Arching an eyebrow I chose to ignore his weird behavior and walked off to my homeroom. 

When the lunch bell finally rang I took my food outside to where Ji and I normally ate. However, he was nowhere in sight. As if he could read my thoughts, my phone notified me of a text from Jisung.

Lix asked me to help him with some Chem work. Sry I can’t eat with you :(

I sent him a quick reply saying it was okay. It wasn’t the first time I had eaten alone and it surely wouldn’t be the last. To no surprise, Chaeyoung and one of her friends walked by. “Have you seen that kid? What’s his name? Jihyun?” She said in her shrill voice. It was hard not to hear her conversation even from twenty feet away.

“No, I think his name is Jisung. Han Jisung. He is in my physics class. Kind of a dweeb if you ask me.” 

“Well, that dweeb filled out. He was probably just a late bloomer, but like all of a sudden, he got really hot. Have you seen his arms and his chest? Oh my god! A girl could die.” 

The girls laughed and continued to objectify my best friend. They were right. Jisung had seemed to have had a huge glow up overnight. His lanky form did seem more toned and his arms were much more muscular than I remembered. 

“Can you believe he still hangs out with that new junkie girl? Like, please. He could get any girl he wants now. Why stay friends with that waste of space?” 

“That bitch is so full of herself. Literally, no one even likes her.” Chaeyoung said laughing. Having heard enough, I got up and decided to go to my next class early. It didn’t necessarily bother me what she had said. Chaeyoung always liked to mess with me.

All my classes seemed slower than usual and Jisung was answering my texts. At this point in the day, we would probably be having a meme war or a stupid conversation ignoring our teachers, but my phone was silent. Not a single notification. 

By the end of the day, I was feeling totally depressed. English was my last class and thank god I had it with Jisung. No doubt he would be late though. He rarely ever showed up on time to class. But, as I walked through the classroom door I did a double-take seeing my best friend in his usual seat right beside mine. 

He gave me an innocent smile. This was strange. Jisung was never early. He looked...normal. I mean other than the physical overnight puberty storm. He slouched in his chair his long legs spilling into the aisle, not that he cared, and he twirled a pen between his long slender fingers. 

“Yo, wassup, cutie?” He said as I sat down. “You seem to be the talk of the school.” He shrugged and shuffled through some physics work he had on his desk. “You jealous?” That stupid smirk appeared on his mouth. “No. Just confused.”

“Okay, class. Settle down. We are going to be returning to our analysis of Austen’s novel Sense and Sensibility.” 

I busied myself with taking thorough notes knowing Jisung would just fall asleep again or just play a random game on his phone. The teacher droned on making a seemingly not boring book a complete snooze fest. The lecture continued without end threatening to send me to sleep as well. Out of habit, I looked over at Jisung, except he was not asleep. Jisung was wide awake and he appeared to be listening intently. 

As if he sensed I was looking at him he turned and smiled at me before returning his attention to the front of the classroom. This was too weird. Where was my Jisung? Maybe he was still sick. That could explain the weird behavior, right? 

The harsh sound of the release bell brought me out of my thoughts. Jisung was already packing up his stuff. “Hey, you wanna stop by Tony’s on the way home? You can buy me a slice!” I said latching onto his arm. The girls were right. Jisung had filled out. Feeling myself starting to blush, I let go and looked back up at my best friend. 

“I can’t. I’ve gotta run some errands fro May and then Uncle Ben asked me to pick up dinner and some other stuff.”

“I can come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll text you later!” 

Without another word, Jisung raced out of the classroom. I knew Jisung pretty well and it was clear he didn’t want me around today. Alone-again- I rode the subway back to my apartment to be greeted by an empty living room. My mom had left a note on the counter leaving me money for dinner and saying Jisung was welcome to come over. “Yeah, well he’s too busy,” I said to no one in particular. 

It got dark pretty quick. All my homework was finished. I even managed to submit the stupid article on lunch menus. Eventually, I had nothing to do but stare at my ceiling. The news was getting pretty boring. After the whole Avenger’s fiasco, things had quieted down, and no interesting stories were in sight. By 11:30 I had given up hope Jisung was going to text let alone call so I did the next best thing. 

“Hi, May! Is Jisung busy?” 

“Hi, sweetie! Jisung got home about an hour ago. He said he was out with Felix. Should I tell him to call you?”

“No, no. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell him. I’ll talk to him later.”

“Okay, honey. Goodnight!”

Han Jisung you filthy little liar. If he didn’t want to hang out with me he should have just said so. Deciding I had finally had enough of this awful day I curled up under my covers and fell asleep.

Months had now passed and Jisung had started acting normal again. Well as normal as Jisung could be anyway. Our near daily trips to Tony’s had decreased to only twice a week and Jisung always seemed to be busy after school, though he made sure to text me back for fear of facing my wrath. 

“What do you think of this Spiderman guy?” I asked typing away on my laptop. Jisung lounged across my bed, the Saturday afternoon light casting a warm glow over his face.  He looked up from his place beside me. “Uhh...I don’t know. What do you think of him?”

“He seems a little childish and amateur, but he is a great story. Vigilante helping out downtown New York? That’s gold.”

“Childish? What do you mean childish? He’s professional as fuck. I heard he stopped a bank robbery the other day.”

“Yeah, and they found the criminals hanging from a lampost by their underwear.”

Jisung laughed and ran a hand through his blonde hair before looking up at the ceiling. “You’ve been talking about Spiderman a lot lately. What do you have a crush on him?” I scoffed, fingers flying across my keyboard. “Please. I don’t date children. Besides, I just think he is a great story.”

“You wanna order takeout?” Jisung asked reaching over me to get my phone. My dad was on duty and my mom was on call so Jisung had come over to keep me company. I did my best to pretend I didn’t notice how amazing he smelled as he leaned over me. “You know you should really stop eating junk food. You are what you eat.” I said distracting myself from how close he was.

“Well then if we are what we eat, I guess I would be fast, cheap, and easy.” 

Jisung winked at me, making my eyes roll. Jisung had grown at home in his new body and somehow he got even cockier than he was before. He groaned at my lack of response and instead let his head rest in my lap, giving him a good view of my screen. “Play with my hair, bitch.”

“Excuse me, dick. I’m working.” He laughed and unlocked my phone. I often wondered why he liked just sitting with me. I think I remembered him telling me once that he liked the sound of me typing. He said it had sort of a rhythm that only belonged to me. How he could pick up on that I had no clue. Like he had superhearing. 

“I ordered sushi. Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” Jisung said, adjusting his body slightly so he wasn’t at an awkward angle. I smiled continuing to write about our masked arachnid hero. “Please tell me you got boba too.” I sighed suddenly craving the sweet drink.

“Of course, baby. I’ve got you.” 

There was a moment of silence. Any minute now Jisung was going to break it. The boy couldn’t go three minutes without talking. “Do you think Spiderman is hot?” Jisung blurted out. 

“Jisung...do we need to have a talk?”

“What- no! Oh, what- no! I mean like do you think he’s hot?”

“The guy wears a mask; how am I supposed to know?”

He shrugged and played on my phone. “I don’t know. What do you think he looks like?” With Jisung’s mind, he wasn’t going to drop this until he got an answer. Saving my work, I closed my laptop and moved it onto the side table. “He’s probably like thirteen. I’m mean he is skinny enough to be a pre-teen.”

“No, like his face.”

“You are weirdly obsessed with this you know.”

“Answer the question already. I’m getting bored.”

I thought for a minute, my hand unconsciously moving to run through his blonde locks. What would spiderman look like? “He is probably just some random white dude. Dark hair, blue eyes maybe?”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. The topic changed after that. Jisung told me about spending time with his Uncle earlier that day and we talked about his weird physics experiments. Soon enough, the food came and Jisung paid for it like he said he would. We spent the next several hours sitting in my bed eating sushi, drinking boba, and watching a drama Jisung insisted I ‘needed to see or my brain would explode out of my ears from being lame’.

After several episodes, my room was obscenely dark and my parents had yet to come home. My back rested against Jisung’s chest letting me feel the vibration of his laughs. “Hey, it’s late. You should probably head home.” He smiled when I made no attempt at moving or letting him up. “Do you want me to stay?” “Yes  please.”  He chuckled and pulled out his phone, calling his uncle and letting him know. 

Soon I began to grow tired, my head slumping back onto his shoulder. He poked my side, trying to wake me up. “Hey, go change for bed.” Sleepily, I nodded and shuffled out of bed to sift through my closet for a nightshirt. Jisung moved around getting comfortable while I changed. 

As I walked back over to the bed Jisung shut my laptop and placed it on my nightstand. When I climbed back into my bed he pulled me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my waist. It had been quite a while since Jisung had stayed over. It felt so nice just to be next to him, feeling the warmth radiating off his bare chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep. 

Jisung’s ringtone blared in my small room quickly waking me up. “Ji-” I said shoving my head under the covers. “I got it. Go back to sleep.” A quick glance at my clock told me it was two am. Who the hell was calling Jisung at two am? Jisung reached over me and grabbed his phone off the stand. He tried not to move a lot because my head still lay on his arm. “Hello?”

“Happy? What’s wrong?”

“Jisung tell the Disney dwarf to hang up. I wanna go back to sleep.” I whined, drowsily. Snuggling back into his chest, I reluctantly listened to him sleepily talk on the phone, Jisung not being fully awake himself. “Where am I? I’m at Y/n’s.....Yes....Yes, you can add the location to the list.” I felt Jisung run a hand through his fluffy hair and sigh.

“Mr. Stark said what? Yeah, yeah I have it in my bag....What now?....She’s gonna kill me....I can be there in ten.” Jisung hung up and started to get out of bed. “Woah, where the hell are you going? I need my personal space heater.” Jisung let out a tired laugh as he slipped his baggy shirt back on and rummaged through his bag looking for something. 

“I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Jisung who the fuck is calling you at two am? What is so important that you have to leave?” I asked still not really awake and comprehensive. “Uhhh....my....internship.”

“Your what?”

“My internship.”

“Your what?” 

“My internship.” 

“Yeah-Ji- you keep saying ‘your internship’ like my half-asleep half murderous mind will understand what your saying.”

 “I got an internship with Stark Industries. They have uh... a problem....with some of the...code that I wrote....last week.” 

Jisung started slipping his socks back on as I stared at him in confusion. “When did you get an internship with freaking Tony Stark -You work with Ironman?!” He laughed and started searching for his shoes. 

“Y/n, go back to sleep. I’ll see you on Monday.” Then he left. I was alone once again in my room. A random siren went off in the distance and I just sat in bed. Suddenly, the police scanner on my dresser crackled to life. My dad had given it to me for my birthday a few years ago. 

We have a 647g Disorderly Conduct at 284 Hickom Av.

647g? Why bother calling that in at this time of night? That was just loitering. Sighing, I got up and walked over to turn the radio off. Another voice coming through stopped me. 

Disregard suspect has left the premise with another group of guys. Headed south down Hickom. 

South down Hickom street? What had my dad said earlier this week? Something about several high arms deals going down near there. If I could catch one in the act this would be a great story! Throwing on some pants and slipping on my sneakers, I grabbed my camera and put on my jacket. “Finally a great story!” 

Hickom Avenue was maybe about ten minutes away. The streets were pretty dark at two am, but it didn’t really bother me. My curiosity overpowered any fear I should have. My eyes scanned the area looking for any sign of the guys the scanner mentioned. Just as I was about to cross in front of an alley I saw them. Quickly I doubled back and pressed against the wall. 

“If I’m paying 4k for some lightsaber shit, I’d better get a demonstration, man.”

Carefully I peeked around the corner. Seven men stood in the hallway. Three were next to this heavy-duty van with blacked-out windows. This was definitely an arms deal if I had ever seen one. Which....to be fair...I hadn’t. But it was pretty clear. 

A guy with muscles bigger than my head pulled out a large weapon with green glowing lights. Quickly I pulled out my camera and started snapping pictures. They proceeded to fire this huge light cannon around the alley. Holy shit. This thing was powerful.

“Okay, you got a deal. I’ll take four-”

Let’s dance the night away,

Let’s  dance the night away,

Yeaaaahh

One, Two, Three! Let’s go!

“Fuck,” I whispered ripping my phone out of my pocket and struggling to turn it off. “Turn off, come on.” Finally, I silenced the phone and turned to see if they had heard. Instead my eyes met a broad chest only a couple inches away. 

Okay....think, think, think. Too busy panicking. Can’t think. Uhhhhhh......fuck. I followed my first instinct and threw a punch at the guy’s nose. His head did not recoil like it was supposed to. He just simply cracked his neck and glared down at me.

Okay.....instincts bad.

Before I knew it I was struggling against the man’s grip as he dragged me into the alley. “We’ve got a visitor.” He said throwing me onto the ground in front of all the other men. They sneered and inched closer clearly quite upset I had interrupted their little party. 

“Make that two. Hey, how are you guys doing?” 

All heads turned to the roof of the liquor store we were next to. My eyes widened. There was Spiderman. Complete with the red and blue suit and cocky childish attitude. “Who the fuck are you?” The buff guy, who now had his foot digging into my stomach, said.

“Bro....Come on. I’m Spiderman. You know. I shoot webs and kick ass.” 

“Isn’t he that guy from YouTube that did the flip on that building?”

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

The man scoffed and pressed further onto my stomach, making me wince slightly. “Scram, Arachne Boy.” The men around me laughed at I assumed the leader’s joke. The hero sighed and shook his head.

“See now I have to beat you up. You can’t just make fun of my name. That shit hurts, bro.”

“What the fu-” Before he could finish his sentence a web shot and grabbed onto his face and flung him into the side of the building. Soon a fight broke out. Trying to remove myself from the situation I crawled away as Spiderman fought all the men. 

“Ah!” 

A strong hand grabbed the back of my neck and hoisted me off the ground. “You aren’t getting away that easy, little girl.” The man sneered. A huge welt was on the side of his face from Spiderman’s attack. My airway’s started to close as he squeezed tighter. My hands tried to pull his fingers away and slapping at any place I could reach. Meanwhile, the last thing I would hear before I died would be Spiderman yelling something about Naruto running a dude into the next Millenium. 

As the edges of my vision started to fade, I heard another voice come closer. “Get your fucking mutant hands off her!” It screamed. I was dropped to the ground. Air filled my lungs as I took huge gasps. Looking up I saw Spiderman taking on the huge monstrosity of a man with nothing but his own two hands. 

“I was told never to play with guns. But I think today might be the exception.”

A web shot out of his fingertips and pulled the weird contraption into his hands. A bright light emitted and fired at the man, blasting him into the building wall. Within seconds Spiderman had wrapped up the villain in a little cocoon of sticky webs, keeping him secure. A quick look around told me he had already done the same to the others. 

The boy in the red suit danced around like a weirdo, while I sat on the ground. “Go Spidey! Go Spidey! Hell yeah! I made all of you my bitches!” I coughed still trying to get air back into my lungs. The white eyes on his mask widened. It must be some pretty advanced tech in that suit.

“Holy shit- Are you okay, Y/n...........I mean...wait-...random citizen I don’t know who means nothing to me personally. Are you okay?”

His voice weirdly got lower halfway through his sentence. Dazed, I looked back up at him. He offered me a hand up and gratefully I took it. “Thanks for helping back there,” I said, voice coming out a bit sore. He shrugged and puffed out his chest. 

“Yeah, I did kick some serious ass didn’t I?”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my camera and started to walk away. “Wait! Where are you going?” He swung from a lamppost and landed in front of me the suit’s eyes widening and shrinking again. His suit must have facial readers or something. 

“I’m going home. I’ve got my story; I’m done.”

“Hey it’s not safe. Let me take you home. What would your friends say if you weren’t at school tomorrow?” 

Spiderman continued to follow me as if he were a lost puppy. I laughed when he almost tripped over a trashcan. “Okay, one- how do you know I’m a student? And two- I don’t really have any friends. People don’t like me at school.” He stopped in his tracks. 

“What do you mean- Are you getting bullied at school?” His words stopped me. He sounded genuinely concerned. By now we were halfway to my apartment. I simply stared at him as the old streetlights flickered and struggled to light up the sidewalks we were on.

“A couple people bother me, but I just ignore them. Look I’m gonna go home. Thanks for back there. You were a real hero.” 

He looked between me and my hand as I stuck it out for him to shake. Slowly he took it, his grip firm, but cautious. “You know, usually heroes get a thank you kiss for rescuing such a gorgeous girl.” I scoffed and pulled my hand away. 

“Sorry, Spidey. I’m not interested in cocky little shits who run around wearing masks.”

“Yeah well, you’d be surprised. What is your type? Bet, I’m still it.”

My eyes lit up thinking about him. “I guess I’m more of the boy next door type. They say you always fall for your best friend right?”

He blinked as if he was processing my words. What I thinking? A horny fourteen-year-old boy wouldn’t understand. “Night, Spidey. Thanks for the save.” Not letting him say another word, I headed back to my apartment. My apartment was still empty when I returned. My parents wouldn’t be back until after I left for school in a few hours. Reluctantly I went back to my bed, missing the space where Jisung lay only a few hours earlier. It was harder to fall asleep without him next to me.

My legs carried me as quickly as they could. I ignored the crazy looks from people on the street as I raced to May’s apartment. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I burst through the building’s main entrance. Knowing the elevator would take too long and it was probably broken again, I took the stairs up to the fourth floor. 

The door was unlocked when I ran into the apartment. “May? May!” I called, looking for her in the living room. Hearing small cries I turned to find her exiting the kitchen. With open arms, I let her hug me and cry into my shoulder. 

We sat in the kitchen in silence. Occasionally one of our cries would slip, but the emptiness would return. He wasn’t answering any of my calls. I was beginning to worry. May said they were together. Where was he? It had been hours since May had called me. The sound of the door opening made us both stand from our seats. 

Jisung walked in with heavy shoulders and blood on his forehead and smeared across his shirt. He had dried tears staining his cheeks. I had seen the footage of the shooting on the news with May, but the sight of Jisung standing before us made my heart break. 

I held myself back as May went to her nephew. They needed each other. I could wait. Whispers between the two were shared, most likely about her husband. She had already gotten a call, but hearing it from Jisung seemed important to her. After a moment she excused herself, saying something about wanting to go to bed. 

The two of us stood in silence. I had no idea how to comfort him. How could you comfort someone who just watched their uncle die? Jisung started to slowly move towards his room. Wordlessly, I followed. 

After I closed his door, I turned to find him staring at the walls small cries coming from his form. There were pictures of him and his uncle all over his room. Jisung sighed when I wrapped my arms around him from behind. He turned around so he could hold me to his chest. Hot tears fell against my neck as he cried. 

It felt like hours before he calmed down. Gently I led him over to the bed and sat him down. All he could do was stare at his hands as I grabbed a clean shirt from his closet and a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was no fight from him as I lifted the bloodied shirt from his body and put it in the hamper. 

Carefully, I lifted his chin and gently started cleaning the blood away from his face. I tried not to wipe away the tears that slowly ran down his cheeks. He looked broken-and tired like he hadn’t slept even before today’s events. My heart shattered when he finally looked me in the eye. 

“I’m not ready for this.” He whispered, more tears falling. 

Wrapping my arms around him, I let the clean shirt fall to the floor. “I know...” I tried to keep tears from falling from my own eyes. I concentrated on running my fingers through his hair and how tightly he held onto my waist. “You’re never going to be ready for it.” He cried even harder, making me want to scream for him. 

Slowly, I laid back onto his bed, holding him on top of my chest. “No one is ever ready for what you are going through,” I whispered. His body shook from crying and he buried his nose into my neck, holding onto me as if I were the only tether keeping him from floating away. “But, you are so strong. We aren’t faced with challenges we can’t overcome.” His breathing started to steady as my hand traced patterns on this bare skin of his back. “Sometimes I wish I was normal,” He whispered.

“Ji, you are anything but normal. And that’s okay. But for now...you can just be here. I’ll be with you. When you’re ready you can do whatever you need to. But...just stay here for now.”

He nodded and held onto me even tighter. I listened to his breath, gently rubbing his back and playing with his hair. When I knew he was asleep, I let myself do the same. Tomorrow would be another day. I would most likely have to leave and let Jisung and May grieve, but for now, I could be with him. Hopefully, that was enough. 

Early the next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. Jisung’s covers were loosely wrapped around me and his window was cracked open, letting a strip of sunlight in. Slowly, I sat up and rubbed my head. It was quite unusual for him to be up this early. Well, it was quite unusual for me to be up this early, but it was like my body had a sensor for when he was gone. I pulled my phone from the table and started to text him.

The sound of the window opening caused my attention to turn. I froze as I saw Jisung climbing through the window. “What the fuck!” He froze when he saw me. My eyes widened, taking the sight in. Jisung was standing before me wearing a familiar red and blue suit, a mask in his hand. 

“Y/n, I can explain...”

Was Jisung Spiderman? Was my best friend Spiderman? Holy shit! “Okay explain!” He simply stared at me, eyes wide. His hand came to scratch the back of his neck. His eyes avoided mine as my arms crossed my chest. 

“Jisung, might I suggest explanation protocol #38 for Miss L/n?”

“Oh my God! Friday, shut up! You aren’t helping.”

I watched as Jisung said to the AI apparently in his suit before he tossed the mask onto his desk. “You have an explanation protocol for me?” The look on his face showed that he knew he was in trouble. 

“See the thing is...I’m not Spiderman-...” He stopped when I glared at him. “Okay, I am Spiderman. This is my internship with Mr.Stark.” Without hesitation, I got up from his bed and started slapping his arm.

“This doesn’t even hurt, does it? You have superstrength. Oh my god, I’m going to fucking murder you.” An aggravated sigh left my chest. “So this whole entire time you have been swinging around the city saving people and doing flips on buildings and I was none the wiser?” I said turning back to him.

“That was one time! But...yes.” He stood awkwardly in his own room. “Look, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” He gulped when my stern gaze turned back on him. “So, anything you ask I’ll answer.” 

“Who else knows?”

“Mr. Stark, Happy- the guy who is my supervisor-, and Felix.”

“FELIX?”

He flinched as my voice raised. Taking a breath, I calmly sat back down on his bed. He watched as I crossed my legs and turned off the sound on my phone. No way was I gonna let my parents interrupt this conversation. “How did you become like...this...” I asked pointing to his clearly toned physique.

“At first I thought it was just like another puberty thing. But, like puberty doesn't make me shoot webs out of my hands. I think it was that spider from the lab.”

“So do-...are all your...bodily fluids...like...webs? Like do you shoot webs out of everywhere or-”

“You wanna find out?” Jisung said with a smirk, coming closer. I did not hesitate to slap him. 

“You couldn’t think of a better name though? Spiderman, really? You couldn’t come up with something more aggressive?”

“Well, I mean...like - spiders are cool, okay!”

I could tell he was uncomfortable. Usually, Jisung always stood up straight and had some sort of a smile or smirk on his face, but he was truly nervous. He watched me expectantly, waiting to answer whatever questions I asked next.

“So when you said you were away on a company retreat for the weekend. That was actually you who was fighting Captain America and all that shit in Prauge?”

“Yes.”

“When you left that night, did you go to the arms deal?”

“Yes.”

“So, it was you who saved me.”

“Your welcome.”

“Don’t push it.”

Nervously, he let out a laugh. No matter how many questions I asked...he was still my best friend. I was proud of him. He was doing so much good. Don’t get me wrong I was still very pissed at him for not telling me. “You owe me pizza at Tony’s for the rest of the fucking year.” A sigh of relief left his chest and he wrapped me in a hug. 

“That’s fine by me. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t ask about the whole crush thing.” I pulled away to see that fucking smirk on his mouth. “I think it’s cute you’re in love with me.” He tugged me closer to his body, gripping my waist.

“Who says I’m in love with you?”

“Me.”

“You’re an asshole- you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“I’m an asshole, not a liar. There’s a difference.”

My breath caught in my throat when I saw his eyes glance down to my lips. I could practically feel my heartbeat pulsing through my entire body. It was true and he knew it. I was in love with him. “Well....what are you going do about it? Prick...” I said in a shaky breath. He let out a soft laugh, his eyes lighting up. 

“Kiss you....bitch.”

My heart went crazy as he pressed his lips to mine. Closing my eyes, I melted into his touch. This was definitely the craziest two days of my entire life. I never would have imagined I would have to comfort my best friend, find out he was a superhero running around New York, and then have him kiss me in his bedroom.

Jisung smiled as I kissed him back, draping my arms around his neck and threading my fingers through his blonde hair. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought kissing Jisung would be like this. Without his mouth leaving mine he pushed me up against the wall of his bedroom. He sighed when my teeth caught his bottom lip.

“Fuck...do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” He asked before returning to my lips. 

“Kissing me?”

“To be honest I’ve been thinking about more than that since I was thirteen.”

Ignoring my scoff, Jisung continued to attack my lips like he had found water for the first time after walking in a desert. His hands slid under my legs, making me shriek when he picked me up. In one swift motion, he turned around and threw me onto his bed, before hovering over me. “I love you,” He whispered, before placing a soft kiss on my lips. Slowly, he moved down to my neck, my hands running through his soft hair. Impatiently, I pulled him back to my lips. 

Our little makeout session was interrupted by the sound of Jisung’s phone ringing. He sighed and dropped his head onto my shoulder. “I have to get that,” He sighed and pushed himself off the bed, walking over to pick up his phone. My eyes couldn’t help but rake over him. Now, I could freely ogle how gorgeous his body was. I bit my lip, looking at the lines of his broad shoulders go down to his slim waist.

“Happy, now is not a good time.”

“Yes....among other things...” A blush flooded his cheeks as he looked back at me still laying on his bed. 

“Can’t Mr. Stark send someone else?”

“I’m not just going to up and leave.”

Getting bored, I got up and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to look over at me, but I just buried my face in his chest. Patiently, I waited for him to finished the call with Happy. Finally, he threw the phone onto his bed and kissed me again. “Do you have to go?” I asked against his lips. He pulled away another smirk filling his face.

“You want to go to Berlin for a week?”

“What?”

“Mr. Stark needs me in Berlin. Something about S.H.I.E.L.D and an Avenger thing. But, there is no way May will let me go. Especially after yesterday.”

“Why am I going?”

“Happy said I could take you with me, you know to convince May to let me go.”

I laughed and kissed him again. “Sure. I’ll go to Berlin with you.” He laughed and spun me around the room. “However, you are gonna be the one to tell my dad that we are going alone with no chaperone to a country where the drinking age is sixteen.” 

“Fuck.”

“Good luck, Ji.”

Requests are open, just send an ask my lovelies!

Masterlist

[jk-unless]

Tuwaine’s Friend

Pairing(s):Tom Holland x Black!Reader,Platonic!Tuwaine Barrett x Black!Reader

Warnings: None

Not Requested

~*~

You and Tuwaine became fast friends while he was visiting the states back in 2015. You ran into each other at a McDonalds.A middle aged woman was making a big scene about her order being made wrong.Tuwaine,who was in front of you in line,turned towards you and asked you if this was something that happened often.

“You mean at McDonalds?Have you never been here?”You asked,more curious than trying to be rude.

“Oh,I actually meant the states in general.” He clarified.The use of the term “the states” made everything click.

“Oooh,you’re not from here!Yeah,sadly,this is a pretty normal thing.It’s best to get a woman like her’s order exactly right the first time or there will be a scene.”

Tuwaine sighs in frustration. “I’m just trying to eat.”

“Don’t worry,it won’t be too much longer before she storms off.”You comforted him.As you said this,the woman let out a final obnoxious sigh.

“I will be calling corporate about this!” She angrily grabbed her takeout bag and stomped out of the restaurant.

“Thank God.” Tuwaine muttered quietly so only you could hear him.You giggled as he walked up to the counter.The cashier apologized about the scene to which Tuwaine assured her it was alright.He gave her his order then turned to you again.

“...And whatever the nice lady behind me wants.”

Your eyes widened a bit.”You sure?” You asked,taken back by the kindness.He nodded with a small smile.You thanked him then proceeded with your order.

The two of you ate together and talked about anything that came to mind.He eventually explained to you that it was actually his last day there before he went back home.Not wanting this to be last time you talked to the sweet guy, you decided to exchange numbers to keep in touch.

~*~

Now in present day,Tuwaine fools around with Tom between scenes of Spider-Man:Far From Home.As Tuwaine laughs about something with Tom,he gets a text from one of the staff members that someone by the name of Y/N L/N was there to see him.

“Oh shit,she’s here!” He exclaimed,jumping up out of his spot.

“Wait,the girl you mentioned earlier?I’m not ready!” Tom says,dramatically running to the nearest mirror to try to fix his hair.

“You’re Tom Holland,she’ll be happy to see you no matter what you look like.” He rolls his eyes at his friend’s desperate attempt to look more put together.In a matter of minutes,the two of them hear a knock on the door of Tom’s trailer.Tuwaine whips open the door and smiles when he sees you.He pulls you in and tackles you in a bear hug to which let out a startled and happy laugh.Tom smiles at the pure interaction in front of him.As Tuwaine let’s go of you,he finally introduces the two of you.

“Tom,Y/N.Y/N,Tom.” He motions between the two of you.

“Hi,it’s really nice to meet you.” Tom says with a bright smile that makes your face heat up.These are times where you’re happy that your melanin hides your shyness.

“Nice to meet you too,Tom.And may I just say,you’re even more attractive in person.”You say,making it Tom’s turn to blush.You discreetly watch in the corner of your eye as Tuwaine rolls his eyes.

“I can say the same about you!The pictures Tuwaine showed me didn’t do you justice.”Tom chuckles a bit as he remembers one pic in particular.”Especially the one where-“ Tuwaine quickly shushes him to save his own skin.Tom slapped a hand over his mouth,but it was too late.You menacingly turned towards you’re old friend.

“You showed Tom Holland an embarrassing picture of me?!”Before Tuwaine could even properly explain himself,Tom was called onto set.He quickly excused himself and told the two of you that he’ll be back in a bit.You watched him exit the trailer,then turned towards Tuwaine once again.He smiled nervously.

“You don’t have to go with him?” You asked,motioning to the door to which Tuwaine explained that he already filmed his scene.He tensed as you moved towards him,not expecting the hug that came after.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed ya ass too much to be mad at you.” You begrudgingly told him.He let out a sigh of relief and hugged you back.

“Oh,thank God.You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

~*~

As the day went on,the three of you actually spent a lot of time together.Even Jake,Zendaya,and Jacob would join you guys once in a while.And let me tell you,your heart was not ready for any of those interactions.You literally almost cried when Zendaya introduced herself to you.During you guys’ down time together,you’d often catch Tom sneaking glances at you.You didn’t want to get your hopes up,so you dismissed it as just him being curious of the person who seemed to mean so much to his dear friend.You really wanted to stay around all of these lovely people, but at around 1:00 in the morning you realized filming wasn’t going to end anytime soon and that you should probably turn in for the night.When you made this decision,it was only you in Tuwaine in the trailer.

“Tutu,I think I’m gonna head to the hotel now.” You announced,using the embarrassing nickname that you first gave him about three months into your friendship.He watched as you started to gather your things.”

Yeah,it is getting pretty late.You want me to come with you?”Tuwaine asked.You looked down with mock shyness and muttered “If you don’t mind.”He rolled his eyes and huffed at your antics.As the two of you made your way out of the trailer,he mentioned that you guys should inform Tom you were leaving.You agreed and the two of you headed towards the set.You made sure they weren’t filming before approaching Tom as he got his suit adjusted by a stylist.He smiled as he caught sight of the two of you,then realized you had you’re stuff in your hands.

“Oh,are you guys leaving?” He asked and pouted at you.His cute frowny face caught you off guard,but luckily Tuwaine answered for the both you.

“Yeah,this one here isn’t really used to being out so late.” He said motioning to you.”Not mention the slight time zone changed has me feeling a little off.” You added.

“Oh,no it’s fine,I totally get it.” Tom said,quick to reassure you that there was no problem.”So uhh,I’ll see you later,man.” He said,dapping Tuwaine off then turning to you with his arms open.”May I?” He asked.You giggled at his politeness and gave him an enthusiastic “Yeah,sure!” The hug was quick,but warm and overall really pleasant.As you were still holding each other,he muttered “It was really nice to meet you.” You smiled grew as you replied “You too,Tom.”

The two of you broke away and you and Tuwaine told him a final bye over your shoulder as you made your way to exit.

~*~

Like the good friend Tuwaine is,he got you safely to your hotel room and made sure you had everything you needed.He planned on staying with you for a bit,then realized that you were quite literally about to pass out.He turned off the lights for you as you plopped yourself down on your bed.Before he could fully close the door behind him.His text tone went off.He unlocked his phone to see that the text was from Tom.

Hey,you still around Y/N?

Tuwaine starred oddly at his phone.

Uh no,she’s passed out on her bed and I’m heading to my room.Why?

Okay,good!I got some questions.

You’re questions can wait,I need a shower.

Tuwaine replied as he set his things down in his own room.

DON’T LEAVE ME!! Tom dramatically texted back.Tuwaine shook his head at the text,threw his phone on the bed,and went to the bathroom to start his shower.

About half an hour later,Tuwaine came out of the shower and picked up his phone again.His attention was brought to a notification of a new text from Tom.

Tom: I hate you 😡

Tuwaine simply rolled his eyes,completely used to his friend’s dramatics. Sure you do.And we were literally in the same place like less than an hour ago,why didn’t you ask your qUeSTIonS then?

Tom: Because she was RIGHT THERE!

EXACTLY SO WHY DIDN’T Tuwaine began to write out,then realized what Tom meant by his text.Oooooh THOSE type of questions.Are they something on the lines of is she single?Maybe even her body count? Tuwaine asked,deciding to tease him.

Tom: SHUT TF UP ITS NOT LIKE THAT

Well maybe the first question...

I truly can’t stand you.

Tuwaine: You want the answer to your question or not?

Tom: 😐

Tuwaine: No she’s not seeing anyone 🙄

Tom: ...Set me up a date with her.

At that moment,Tuwaine really wished Tom was in his room with him just so he could see the look of disbelief on his face. Bruv I know you haven’t been on a date in a while,but that is definitely something you do YOURSELF.

Tom: But she makes me hella nervous!

Tuwaine: When did you start using the word hella?You’ve been spending too much time with Zendaya.

Tom: Can’t really help that when she’s,well,my literal love interest.

Tuwaine: Keep that attitude up and I’ll tell Y/N that you shit yourself in your sleep.

Tom: If you tell her that,you’ll have to say goodbye to my fans for me bc I’d literally throw myself off of the nearest building.

Tuwaine: You do that like every day on set,nothing new really.

Tom: I have to go arsehole.Please just send me her number.

Tuwaine: Sure.Don’t die while doing stunts or whatever.

Tom: Love you too Tuwaine 🥰😘❤️❤️😊

Tuwaine couldn’t help but laugh at the text as he put his phone on his charger and finally climbed into bed to rest.

~*~

Yow woke up at around 8:00am to a text from an unknown number.The text read Hey,it’s Tom!I hope you don’t mind that Tuwaine gave me your number.You smiled at the text and mentally noted to thank Tuwaine later. Oh I don’t mind at all 😊 What’s up Tom?Well I guess filming right?😂 You cringed at your reply but it was too late to delete it.You got a reply in less than a minute.

Tom: lol we actually got a lot done last night so I’m free for the day!

You: Oh cool!You got any plans for your day off?

I was actually hoping I could take you out for lunch? Tom surprised himself at his sudden confidence.He thought he’d end up giving you small hints that he wanted to hang out until eventually you were the one to ask.

You: I’d love to!What time were you thinking?

Tom: Can I pick you up for 12:00?

You: 12:00 would be just fine 😌 See you then!

Tom: See you then!

You were over the fucking moon.Tom Holland,one of your biggest celebrity crushes since CA: Civil War, just asked you out on a date.To say you were freaking out was an understatement.The date was literally four hours away,but you jumped up and started looking for an outfit anyway.Once you finally picked up the perfect outfit,with the limited clothes that you brought for your trip,you threw a hoodie over yourself and headed to the lobby,remembering that you were supposed to me Tuwaine for breakfast.

~*~

“So yeah I got a text that was like “Hey,it’s Tom!” and first my dumbass was like “Who the fuck is Tom?” then I read the rest of the text and I it mentioned you and I was like “Ooooh that Tom!” so then I texted him back and was like-“

“I hate to cut you off,” Tuwaine said,finally deciding to interrupt your rant “But it’s too early in the morning for you to be talking at this speed.”

You knew your friend was mostly just joking,but you sheepishly sunk down in your chair and calmed down a bit anyway. “My bad,I’m just really excited.”

“It’s cool,love.So I’m guessing this lead to him asking you out?”

“Yes!I’m saving my appetite because he’s taking me out for lunch!But that’s enough about my potential love life,how’d you sleep?” You asked and slightly leaned over with genuine anticipation.This brought a smile to Tuwaine’s face.

“Glad to see that you remember you came all this way to see me.” He mockingly told you,but you could tell he was genuinely touched.He went on to tell you that it felt like he was sleeping on a huge slab of stone,but he went to sleep anyway because he was too tired.You two had a long chat and before you knew it,it was time for your date.

(A /N: One thing I’m manifesting for myself starting this December 21st is a better sleep schedule.It’s getting late,but I didn’t want to go back on my word so I just cut it short 😅 Part 2 will be up soon though!)

[inglourious-imagines]

The Only One (Lewis Nixon)

Requested by: @dontfearthereaper-09

Summary: You're Colonel Sink's granddaughter and you're helping out with paperwork - you eventually fall in love with Lewis Nixon and start dating. However, every relationship has its ups and downs.

Prompt: a requested one - I wish I'd never met you.

Author's Note: I struggled so hard with this and I'm not proud of it at all, but hope it is what you wanted. A big thank you goes to for @alienoresimagines and her great help as always!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans  @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @stressedinadress @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @happyveday

.

.

.

"He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began." - Anna Karenina, L. Tolstoj

Y/N had never in her life shooted from a rifle or even held it in her innocent hands. She had never known combat, real combat, where men kill and die. She had never endured real physical pain.

And still, Y/N was standing in the middle of Camp Toccoa during the hot summer days of 1942 with a huge grin on her face. She finally persuaded her grandfather to let her join the paratroopers. Well, she was there to help out with paperwork mainly, to be there at hand for the intelligence officers, but she also managed to pull a few strings so she will be undergoing the combat training like every other soldier even though she's not allowed to go and fight in France.

The first weeks were exhausting - physically and mentally - with the combat training Y/N volunteered for. She constantly felt like she's at the verge of giving up and going home. 

But Y/N didn't and neither will she. Even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life, it seemed right. This is where Y/N Sink belonged.

But thank God it wasn't just exercise, work and signing documents. One evening, when everything was finished for the day, her grandfather Sink took her with him to a certain celebration, more like an occasion to get drunk and forget that a war is going on just across an ocean. 

It was certainly the most eventful night during her stay in Camp Toccoa, Georgia. Y/N lost her grandfather nearly 10 minutes after they walked in the pub. She immediately befriended two guys - George Luz and Joe Liebgott. It seemed like they'd known each other for years. The soldiers heard all about the mysterious woman that had been helping out in their training camp weeks ago now but never really got the chance to talk to her.

George introduced her to the rest of his friends within Easy Company and they spend the night together laughing, downing shots one after another, dancing and joking around. Y/N felt relaxed and genuiely unworried that night so when they were told to break it up and get some sleep for tomorrow, it suddenly saddened her. The Easy Company boys were the most welcoming, kind and funny men Y/N'd met during her stay and she was sure that she's not gonna have a chance to talk to them like that night for a long time.

There was a soldier waiting for her outside of the pub to escort her into her room but Y/N kindly told him to fuck off and he made sure to be quickly on his way. 

So there she was again, standing under the starry night in Georgia, a warm summer breeze dancing through her hair while she struggled a bit to remain on her feet due to all the alcohol flowing in her veins. 

"Have a trouble finding your way, Miss Sink?" a deep voice filled her ears and Y/N jumped a bit on her spot as she didn't see him coming from behind.

"I'm perfectly fine, soldier." she tried to answer with a firm steady voice but a quiet giggle escaped her lips.

"I can see that. Let me help you there, Miss." he offered his help kindly, smirking. The Moon was illuminating his face making his hair appear darker than the night itself and his eyes shined like two stars up at the sky.

"I assure you, Mr Nixon, that I have no trouble at all. I can manage myself." Y/N stood behind her words but a part of her desired his gentle hand on her lower back steadying her. 

"I'm surprised you know my name." Nix laughed raising his eyebrows as he took a few steps closer to her.

"And I'm surprised it was just a can of peaches." Y/N replied boldly looking directly into his dark eyes.

They were covered in silence for a few moments but they burst out laughing in the next second earning some "shut the fuck ups" from the nearest barracks.

The duo spent the rest of the night walking around the camp as they eventually ended up in her room talking about nothing and everything. By the next morning, Y/N knew every little thing about Lewis and he knew every little thing about her. 

It was no surprise, to Easy Company boys or even his grandfather, that the two of them started dating just a couple of days after the party. Richard Winters soon payed Y/N a visit informing her how he's never seen Lew so damn happy and cheerful all the time.

•••

At the end of May, 1944 when all the preparations for D-Day were finishing, another party was thrown in honor of the paratroopers that had earned their jump wings. Y/N persaued Sink to take her to Britain with him so she was able to celebrate with all of them. 

She was a bit tipsy already because George Luz made her drink three beers and the forth was already on its way. 

Lewis Nixon glared at the duo with a bottle of whiskey in his right hand and a cigarette in the left. He watched how Y/N's lips curled into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen at something George whispered in her ear. She burst out in a hearty laugh as she touched Luz's shoulder gently and this simple action reminded Lewis the night they met for the first time. An uneasy feeling burned through his chest - it suddenly became hard to breathe. Nixon clenched the glass in his hands and he'd have break it eventually if Richard didn't shake with Lew's shoulder.

"Not now, Dick," the intellingent officer snapped immediately, "we'll talk tomorrow. I'm heading back to my room."

And with that, he stood up and walked out of the pub without any other glance toward his girlfriend. The bottle of Vat '69 was left on the table half full.

•••

"Baby? Why did you disappear so quickly?" Y/N barged in his room while he was sitting behind his desk looking out of the window absently. 

"You seemed quite happy with George." Nixon murmured quietly, he didn't even bother to turn and face her.

"What is this all about? Is there a problem?" she asked kindly moving closer to her broken soldier. The sweet tone of her voice was making it even harder than it already was.

Lewis Nixon looked at her for the first time. "I think we shouldn't be seeing each other anymore." He sounded decided, strongly convinced in his statement.

Y/N suspiciously eyed his face whereas Lewis tried to avoid her concerned look. "Is this about George?"

"No, it's not about fucking George!" Lewis raised his voice and stood up from the little chair, "you are better without me, okay? I drag you down, Y/N."

She stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about? I love you and only you, damn it!"

"You just think you do!"

Y/N's eyes began to water and when the first hot tear rolled down her cheek Nixon's heart broke into million pieces. He hated himself for hurting the most precious human being on the Earth but he had to do it. There was no other way.

"I wish you trusted me more, Lew." she breathed out reaching out to caress his cheek but changed her mind in the last second and her hand fell to her body.

Lewis pressed his eyelids tightly together forcing the coming tears stay inside of his soul. "I wish I'd never met you."

•••

The next days hit Y/N harder than her first days at Toccoa. No combat training, no amount of paperwork had ever made her feel so broken, tired and demotivated. As weird as it sounds, even after the relatively short relationship with the Easy Company intelligence officer, Lewis was a big important part of her life. He made her feel so many new emotions, he fulfilled her soul and heart like nobody else did.

And now, it was all gone.

Everyone noticed the sudden cold behaviour between Y/N and Lewis but they didn't really know what happened. Y/N brushed it off every single time when someone asked her and no one really dared to approach Nixon. 

It wasn't like the duo stopped communicating absolutely. Lewis after the argument stormed off and got drunk, he was genuiely wasted, but he also realised what a mistake he did. It was the first time Y/N told him she loved him and he was still able to make the person who cared for him the most go away.

When Y/N tried her best to avoid Nixon, he tried his best to talk to her as much as possible, every day he left her a note at her desk along with a flower and every time she accidentally glanced at him he sent her an apologetic smile.

Y/N knew her anger and hurt was slowly fading away. Lewis felt truly sorry - alcohol and jealousy wasn't really a great combination.

•••

My dearest Y/N,

I know you don't want to have anything to do with me, and I don't blame you, but there's still something I need to tell you. I'm just gonna hope that this sort of letter is not lying in the bin already.

I want you to know that I regret every single word I said that night. Clearly my jealousy and my alcoholic problem (as much as you hate me right now, please don't tell anyone I just admitted that) came in the way and I thought you're better off without me.

I'm not the perfect boyfriend, Y/N, and I never will be. I'm not funny as George, and I guarantee you there's gonna be more arguments between us. But I can assure you that no matter what happens, I will love you for the rest of my life. 

Hope you can forgive me,

I'm sorry.

With love, your Lewis

A tear soaked into the piece of paper as she pressed it to her heart. Little did Y/N know that she will love the idiot forever.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sunshine City: Four

A/N: We are nearing the end of this little story, my loves. Thank you to everyone who read, liked, and/or reblogged the last chapter. I adore you.

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating For This Chapter: T for blood, injuries, a K*ss or two, my undying love of tropes and cliches

Catch up on previous chapters here!

London was a beautiful mix of sparkling skyscrapers and bygone brick and mortar. It reminded her of New York on one street and some sort of historical romance novel on the next.  The Tube was much more proficient than the subway and Bela was fond of the fact that Harry let her take him along to the office whenever she wasn’t on assignment.

But it still felt…like she was just visiting. 

“Mordred!”

She pivoted in her chair to see Roxy—Agent Lancelot—walk into her office. The young agent had been thought dead for a handful of weeks after Kingsman’s old headquarters had exploded, but she had survived. A little injured, more than a little confused, but quickly back to normal after Eggsy discovered her in the nearest hospital. She couldn’t remember her name but she did remember how to throw men over her shoulder like it was nothing. (The nurses were not a fan.) 

But Roxy was now back on her very-capable feet and usually out in the field. 

“Lancelot,” she replied with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Your cowboy has arrived in that atrocious car.” But a teasing smile was pulling at Roxy’s lips as she said it, letting Sunny know this would not be the end of their conversation. Roxy had almost instantly become aware of the strange relationship between Whiskey and the former Statesman agent and found it endlessly entertaining. While Eggsy was tending to his new duties as a prince of Sweden, Roxy had readily stepped into his role of friend to Sunny when Ginger was busy.

“He is not my cowboy.” She rose to her feet and Bela poked his little head out from under the desk where he’d been napping on an embroidered pillow, a Boxing Day gift from Merlin last year.

Roxy laughed, a full-belly laugh that had the other woman frowning. “You might want to tell him that. When he saw Tristan at the door he said, and I quote: ‘tell Sunny her cowboy is here.’ So, I do not believe he knows he isn’t your cowboy.”

She was able to keep her face neutral as Roxy’s smirk continued to grow but that did not mean her stomach did not flip and fill with butterflies. “I’ll let him know, Lancelot.”

Roxy laughed and nodded before excusing herself.

“At least he didn’t honk this time,” she muttered to herself. The pair had been assigned a mission and she expected him later that day.

The stately manor house just an hour outside London was the newest headquarters for the agency and usually agents and their American counterparts would use the underground bullet train under the (also recently rebuilt) tailor shop. It would take only a handful of minutes.

But apparently Whiskey had to be…different.

She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the door and Bela followed, matching his short stride to her longer one as she made her way out of her office, through the ornate and marble halls, and out toward the manicured lawn and front courtyard.

And there was Whiskey in his Bronco. His head was tilted back so it could catch the warmth of the infrequent sun and his stupid cowboy hat was still on his head. Her stomach tightened at the sight of the stretch of his neck. God. She still had it bad, didn’t she? Would the sight of someone’s neck make anyone (aside from her pathetically-in-love self) short of breath?

Their relationship hadn’t really changed since Tilde and Eggsy’s wedding. Well, that is what she told herself anyway. Their emails had progressed to whispered telephone calls about their days and missions and she had lost count how many times she had fallen asleep to the sound of Whiskey all-but crooning in her ear.

But…friends did that. Right?

They were friends.

The scratching of Bela’s little paws against the stone of the front steps grabbed his attention and his head lazily turned to the side as a familiar smile pushed up his lips, displaying the one dimple on his right cheek. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, Sunshine?”

She tried halfheartedly to hide her smile as she slowed to a stop and leaned against the passenger-side door. “I’m Agent Mordred here, Whiskey.”

“Nope. You’ll always be my Sunshine.” He opened his door and Bela leapt up into his lap just long enough for the older agent to scratch behind his ear and then into the back seat where the corgi promptly made himself at home. Whiskey leaned over and opened the door for her and patted the leather of seat, smile never fading. “C’mon. We can talk on our way back to London.” 

She rolled her eyes but slid in. As she pulled the door closed, she said, “we could have taken the train.” 

“It don’t like it. The darn thing moves too fast.”

She scoffed with another smile. “I don’t believe anything moves too fast for you.”

As Whiskey started the engine he looked at her, head dipping so he could pin her with his stare over the edge of his gold-rimmed aviators. “On the contrary, Sunny. I like going slow.” He enunciated each word with that southern drawl and let his fingers slide around the worn leather of the steering wheel, nice and slow as they trailed over the stitching. “Take my time. Make it worth it when I finally reach a destination.”

Her head snapped toward the windshield as heat curled in her stomach and then strangled the next breath from her lungs. “Inappropriate.”

But he laughed and reached over to pat at her thigh and squeezed just above her knee before gravel spit beneath his tires when he pressed down on the gas.

The pair did actually speak about the mission as the unusually clear autumn day provided a perfect backdrop for their drive. “Why do we always get put on the nuclear waste missions? It is like Champ and Harry don’t like us.” She said with a huff.

“Maybe it’s our specialty, Sunshine.”

She reached out and smacked at his arm. The mission was a little more involved than Vegas. It involved a pair of couples from blue blood families who had turned to buying and selling anything and everything a would-be terrorist or dictator would need in order to keep their luxurious lifestyles. Merlin had managed to uncover the plans of an American couple about to meet with the dealers at a gala at one of the privately-owned castles in Scotland. While Tequila managed to neutralize the American couple, she and Whiskey would be taking their place, hopefully to stop them and uncover where they were getting their supply.

She gave him directions toward the tailor shop (where they could pick up a few gadgets and supplies) once they reached the right borough and laughed when he had trouble parallel parking. But after finally managing to squeeze the Bronco into a space definitely designed for something smaller, he darted around to open her door as she pulled Bela from his napping spot in the back.

She murmured a thank you as she let Bela lick at her cheek. Whiskey hummed and scratched behind Bela’s ear before placing a hand at the small of her back as she led them up toward the gleaming glass door of the tailor shop.

It was all very…domestic, in a stereotypical “southern gentleman” sort of way and she hated how much she liked it. But she had given up on actually hating anything he did. Especially when he smiled at her like that.

                                                    **

Edinburgh was magnificent. And Kingsman had made sure their agent and visiting Statesman were comfortable in a luxury hotel room and an extra agent to act as their chauffeur for the evening, solidifying their image as a well-to-do couple with nefarious intentions.

The past handful of hours were spent going over the plan before separating to get ready. Her dress was from some Italian designer Roxy insisted would look good on her and fit her like a black, silk glove. The thigh-high slit just barely covered the holster she’d strapped around her thigh but hopefully the dangerously low neckline would distract anyone away from her legs. The false eyelashes gave her pause for a moment—and a few tears as she stabbed herself right in the eye a few times—but she managed to put on a face full of makeup and finished with a berry-tinted lip and a heavy hand of jasmine and leather perfume.

Missions like this always made her a bit nervous. No matter how many times she’d completed them easily, they always made her feel like a kid playing dress up and waiting for a scolding. She took a few breaths and then stepped out of the bathroom and into the suite. Whiskey was there, fixing the silver cufflinks in his classic and sharply cut, dark blue suit. The dying light of the sun was framing him and the next exhale stuttered in her lungs. It was going to be a long night.

Whiskey turned at the sound of her red-soled shoes on the floor and smiled. And, of course, his eyes dragged from her toes, up her legs, her stomach, her chest…and then stopped.

“My eyes are up here, boss,” she said with a snort.

His dark eyes finally lifted up to hers as his smile slipped to a smirk. “I ain’t your boss, Sunshine.”

And her stomach actually clenched at that and she had to take a moment to clear her throat and remember that they were on a mission. “That’s good. We’re supposed to be lovesick newlyweds, right?”

Whiskey’s mouth—god, how many times was she going to stare at his mouth tonight?—twisted to the side with a frown as he took a few steps toward her and gently grasped her left hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing the diamond-encrusted band on her finger before pressing her palm against his cheek with a sigh.

She let her thumb slide against his cheekbone for a moment, smelling his expensive cologne tickle her nose and the warmth of his hand over hers settled the nerves she felt.

“You look beautiful tonight. Truly.” He leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead before he squeezed the hand he had in his grasp and intertwined their fingers as he brought them down to his side. “An easy cover.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as his watch beeped, letting them know it was time to go. “Let’s get these guys.”

And she let him tug her along with her heart in her throat.

                                                  **

The gala was luxurious in every sense of the word and the targets were so ostentatious that it was easy to spot them even if she hadn’t memorized their faces. Whiskey made easy work for introducing them as Mr. & Mrs. Jameson and making the targets laugh and trust them. She played the part of doting newlywed with no trouble and let herself enjoy it—as Whiskey seemed to be doing with how many times he deemed it necessary to hold her hand or press a kiss to her cheek or forehead, avoiding her lips with a joke, “she always hates it when I mess up her lipstick.” She would let her hand slip under his suit jacket as she leaned against his arm at the dinner table, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her palm or push a smile to her lips whenever she had to lean in to whisper something in his ear about the security stationed around the room or how her Geiger counter, disguised as an opulent diamond tennis bracelet detected traces of radiation on the targets’ hands and feet. Especially on the woman’s—Alice—hands.

“Shall we talk shop in the gallery? I have heard they have a wonderful display of Mucha,” the man—Allan—said with a smile.

“I do adore Mucha,” she answered in return, tapping twice against Whiskey’s hand as it rested on her leg. Show time.

The pair of couples rose from their table and walked through the ball room and down a dimly lit hall toward the castle’s art gallery without much fanfare. In fact, she noticed that this whole ordeal didn’t have much fanfare at all. It was a wonder this couple had lasted this long without being taken down with how blatantly they spoke about their intentions. It was easy.

Too easy.

As soon as they stepped into the gallery, she noticed the ‘closed for maintenance’ signage. She was nearly leveled with a crack of a gun against the back of her head. The room swam for a moment and she stumbled but kept her footing and turned just in time to duck, dodging Allan as he tried to hit her again. She took a step back just enough to gain momentum before kicking out and slamming her stiletto heel into his chest.

It barely registered that Whiskey was busy handling Alice who had somehow produced a knife from god-knows-where and had managed to at least get him once with the amount of blood spilling across his white shirt.

But her attention was quickly brought back to Allan who was coughing, blood slipping from his lips as the he struggled to get to his feet. Her heel had punctured his chest. Oops. But the struggle was getting too loud. They couldn’t afford to be caught like this. It would ruin everything.

She stomped forward and grasped the sides of Allan’s head as he tried to stand and yanked. His body thudded to the ground just as Whiskey managed to sink a needle full of some yellow-tinted liquid into the side of Alice’s neck and she collapsed in his arms almost instantaneously.

The sound of approaching footsteps had them both scrambling. To hide the bodies (both of them were stuffed behind a statue in the corner). To clean up the blood (she grabbed Whiskey’s pocket square and made quick work of it all). There wasn’t time to make an escape. The thin beam of light from a flashlight was making its way down the hall, she could see it and tugged Whiskey toward her with steady hands.

“Don’t hate me.”

And then she pressed her lips to his and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him ever closer to hide the blood on his shirt.

Whiskey…could kiss. That was made abundantly clear with how easily he coaxed her lips apart to lick into her mouth, tasting of thousand-dollar-bottle champagne and mint. His warm hands grasped at her silk-covered hips and his face angled just the slightest bit so he could truly kiss her. Her hand shot into his hair on its own accord and mussed the carefully coifed locks. He groaned against her lips.

She could kiss him forever-

“Hey!”

They broke apart to see a disgruntled security officer standing in the gallery’s doorway.

“This area’s closed to the public.”

“Sorry man,” Whiskey drawled, keeping her close with a hand on her hip and her angled to keep his wound concealed, “just had to kiss my wife-”

“Do it somewhere else,” the man all but snarled before walking away.

She listened to his footsteps disappear before pushing out a soft laugh. Her heart was still racing. Her lips seemed to pulse in time with her heart and she licked them before she could stop herself, still tasting him. She quickly shot a message to the agent waiting outside that they had one body and one unconscious target to take care of before she stepped around the room, scrambling the security camera feeds with ease with the help of a small device Merlin had been particularly proud of.

She heard Whiskey walk up behind her but still jumped when his hands settled over her shoulders, a finger dragging under the strap of her dress and down her back. She shivered when she heard him chuckle against her throat, nose pressing against her pulse. Turning in his grip, she offered a small smile but didn’t pull away. She wasn’t sure when she would have him so close again. “Alice’ll be taken back to headquarters. Alan will be disposed of. Whoever set us up doesn’t have much time left.”

But Whiskey didn’t reply. His hands travelled up to carefully grasp at her face and he pressed a kiss to her lips—slow and sweet and perfect.

She pushed out a shaky breath as he pulled back and patted at his chest, mindful of the blood. “We are about to be in trouble if the guard comes back, Mr. Jameson,” she said, trying to save face.

“M’name’s Jack, Sunshine.”

“Jack,” she whispered back and she’d never liked a name more.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm​ @honestlystop​ @paryl​  @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 9 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| previous chapters

A/N: ANGST :D LACK OF COMMUNICATION BOTTLED-UP FEELINGS… This is a little re-cap from Lemon’s pov to fill some blank spaces and now ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO! I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it! <3

-9-

Somewhere in New York City, two weeks ago.

Lemon was packing her things for the trip, she’d still have to pick Rita up from the airport and refuel before hitting the road. She was already low-key stressed out by the traffic reports when Jan walked into her bedroom.

“Hey, Lemony. Are you still packing?”

“I need to get those things inside my suitcase.” She pointed at the pile of clothing that was still sitting on her bed. “And I want to leave early in the morning to get the most sunlight on the way there.”

“Okay, I’ll help you closing the suitcase, to begin with,” Jan said, trying to help her afflicted roommate.

Once they were done, the blonde was still clearly uneasy about the whole road trip.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know… I have this feeling in my chest… something about all this.”

“Lemz, I told you, you have to cry when you feel like or the anguish is going to blow up when you less expect it.”

“No, it’s not that –although, thanks for the reminder- it’s something else…”

Jan waited.

“I dreamt of Priyanka last night.”

“Oh…”

“It was a weird dream I can barely remember a thing, we were like ten again and we were in the local swimming pool and then we were twenty again… I don’t know.” Lemon sat on the edge of her bed.

“Maybe it’s a sign. Something in your subconscious is taking you back to her.” Jan wasn’t a psychology major but sometimes it felt like she was.

“I… why? It’s been seven years since we last met and it didn’t end well. Why now?”

“Because seven years is more than enough time to heal, I guess. Is she in Toronto?”

“Yeah…” She was never going to admit to Jan that she used her idea of befriending people in social media… many years later.

“Why don’t you drop by?”

“Are you out of your mind? To do what? I show up out of nowhere and say hey wanna hang out?” Lemon sounded exasperated. “Besides, I don’t know if I wanna see her.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “Maybe I don’t… maybe I’m okay with this being the way it is.”

“Girl, you’re not. I know it, you know it, we all know it…”

“No, I can’t go to Toronto. That’s crazy.” She shook the idea off her head. “I’ll go back home and spend some time with my family and then I’ll be back in time for the dance festival in three weeks. It’s planned perfectly.”

“Okay.” Jan, who understood Lemon’s struggles the most, was always supportive when it came to Priyanka. She just patted her back and let her be.

A half-hour later, Lemon drove to the airport to pick Rita up. That night they went out to have dinner at some fancy restaurant in Manhattan –Rita’s knowledge of New York came up exclusively from Sex and the City and Gossip Girl thus Lemon let her live the fantasy for one night. After all, she paid.

They stayed in Lemon’s apartment since Jan was spending the night at Jackie’s and the following morning they woke up before the sun rose on the horizon. Lemon picked some coffee and breakfast from the nearest café open and then they hit the road.

Rita did her best to stay awake but she kept yawning so Lemon let her sleep for a little. In the meantime, she played some music from the CDs on the glove compartment. She started with the ageless Survivor and then switched to Teenage Dream.

Lemon had her car for over a year now and she had become a much more diligent driver during that year. Before she wouldn’t even have considered driving to Canada but after getting used to the traffic in the city and the sound of ceaseless horns and people yelling, the highway was like a child’s play.

Rita woke up when the sunlight hit her in the face, right on time to change the CD again.

“Oh, can I pick the music?”

“Sure,” Lemon pointed at the glove compartment. “there you have a few if you want to look around or the radio…”

“I brought this one.” She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a Taylor Swift CD.

“Rita I didn’t have you for a Swiftie.” Lemon arched an eyebrow. “I’m not the biggest fan but… okay.”

“But she’s really good.”

Bonding trip, bonding trip, bonding trip…

Lemon didn’t know how she ended up listening to a country album but Rita seemed happy while singing some of the lyrics along. She had to admit there were some bops there. Love Story with the Shakespearian references was good, she’d give her that. She was paying attention to the road mostly.

And then it hit her.

Track nº 6 – You Belong with Me.

Lemon was sure she had heard that song on the radio before and seen the music video somewhere –most likely- but she had never truly listened to the lyrics until that moment. The tune was catchy or whatever but the chorus –and the bridge- really resonated with her.

She closed her grip over the steering wheel once the song was over.

“Rita, play it again.” She said, dead serious.

“Huh? Okay…”

The sixth time, Lemon had it. She was almost in tears screaming from the top of her lungs.

Oh, I remember you driving to my house

In the middle of the night

I’m the one who makes you laugh

When you know you’re ‘bout to cry

And I know your favorite songs

And you tell me 'bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong

Think I know it’s with me

“Again.”

“Lemon, I think it’s time to stop. This is an intervention.”

“I said, play the song again. The bridge really makes me feel something.”

“I can tell…” Rita looked concerned. “I think it’s a good moment for us to switch positions. I can drive for a little.”

She probably fucked Rita’s CD by repeating that song so many times but the echo that it left inside Lemon’s head was like an expansive wave and it reached the deepest, recondite memories of her mind.

She spotted Priyanka the minute she walked into the dining, how could she miss it? Priyanka always managed to draw attention wherever she went and she wasn’t even conscious about it most of the time.

Seeing pictures on someone else’s Facebook wall was one thing but seeing her life had taken Lemon by surprise. She should’ve suspected when she saw Kiara and Scarlett together –and they had seen her too- so it was probably just a matter of time for her to find out as well.

Lemon couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Days prior to her arrival, Lemon had just the normal amount of experiences next to her family, visiting relatives she hadn’t seen in a while, going out to have dinner with her dad, his wife, and Rita, visiting old friends and places from her childhood…

She didn’t expect to meet Priyanka there –just like when she had returned for her dad’s wedding- their paths didn’t cross that occasion and this time was supposed to be the same except it wasn’t. Priyanka was in town and she was there, at the same place at the same moment as Lemon, something she only had dreamt about. Literally.

She had stopped listening to what Boa was saying and in consequence, spilled some orange juice on the denim jacket she had over her dress.

“Oh, shit!” She rushed to grab a napkin.

The girls on the table tried to help her, she removed the clothing item and left it on the table assuring it would dry but excused herself to go to the bathroom for a moment.

Lemon needed to think straight.

Well, no, not that… scratch it.

Lemon needed to think straight clearly.

She could walk directly to their table and just say «hi!» short, sweet, concise… or something like «I just came to say hello» that would give the right idea of her being friendly… right?

She pulled out her phone and called Jan, it was an emergency call.

“Jan… pick up… pick up…”

“Hello?”

“Oh my God, Jan… this is a disaster and I’m gonna die.”

“What? Wait… what happened? Are you okay?”

“Priyanka is here.”

Long pause on the phone.

“Oh, I see…”

“And I’m freaking out because I don’t know what to say or how to act in front of her anymore… and now I’m hiding in a bathroom booth like a vile fifteen-year-old.”

“Lemon, breathe… you need to calm down.”

“No shit… I don’t know if I can do this… what if I fuck it up again?”

“Just say «hi», nothing bad can come from a hi.”

“That was my first choice, thank you… I think I will… wish me luck.”

“Fingers crossed!”

She hung up. At that moment, someone else got inside the bathroom and got in the contiguous booth but Lemon was too immersed in her own thoughts to notice. She walked out, washed her hands, and made sure her hair was looking fine.

Just say «hi». She was going to walk to that table and say hi… It couldn’t go wrong.

Except it did.

Priyanka wasn’t at the table, why wasn’t she at the table? Lemon had just seen her. How was possible that when she finally brought herself to take the first step she wasn’t there? Was she hallucinating? You know what? That was so typical Priyanka never staying quiet for so long in a place and…

Her thoughts started bubbling while she tried to maintain a polite conversation with the other girls. There was one particularly pretty she hadn’t seen around before named Denali, would she be close to Priyanka too? Lemon felt a pang of jealously.

And then, she appeared.

Everyone at the table went silent and when she turned around, there she was.

Taller than Lemon could remember, absolutely gorgeous like a goddess with her long hair and pretty features, it had been a while but there she was, just like she remembered her.

Lemon attempted to smile but it became awkward. She was so nervous she couldn’t say anything…

“Well, that’s my cue to leave.” She smiled at the people sitting at the table. “It’s nice to see you, guys. I hope we can hang out sometime.” She was about to run away because even when she thought she could do it, she couldn’t.

“Hello to you too.” Those were Priyanka’s first words in all that time.

And then, the rage took over.

Was it so difficult to call her back?

Seven years!

“Oh, so you can speak now…”

It went downhill horribly after that.

Lemon stormed out of the dining, walked a little trying not to show her true feelings, and finally laid against a wall to recover from what had just happened. She let the air out of her lungs and then remembered her bag, her jacket, and her car keys were still inside. Luckily enough, she had brought her phone and rushed to text Rita to get her things.

Her hands were still shaking and if she looked through a window she’d spot her again. There was nothing else that Lemon wanted to do but she also felt the need of kicking and screaming, to do something with all those feelings that she had piled up in her heart.

She needed to clear her mind and, in order to do that, she needed to dance, put her body in motion somehow.

It was time to go out.

Lemon felt the most comfortable dancing and the dancefloor was like a second home for her. There she didn’t need to think much, just feel the rhythm and let her body do the rest.

Naturally, she felt deeply aggrieved when Priyanka showed up to disrupt her sacred space.

Well, it wasn’t that sacred, it was a nightclub or whatever.

Yet, how dared she?

How dared she showing up like that?

How dared she looking that beautiful with that top that revealed her back?

Lemon gulped when no one was watching.

She was with that pretty girl from the other day, Denali.

Wait, what if…?

Priyanka had all the right to date someone if she wanted to and who wouldn’t date Priyanka? She was amazing, funny, so beautiful… Maybe there was a real chance that she was dating that girl –that very attractive girl- and good for them… it was a good thing, right?

Fuck it.

Lemon stole Priyanka’s drink, she needed something strong to numb her senses and erase those thoughts.

The shot gave Lemon a dosage of renewed confidence, she could feel physically her inhibitions abandoning her body. She smirked at Priyanka and stared directly into her brown eyes before heading to the dancefloor.

She lost herself among the crowd, closed her eyes, and let the alcohol take over, making her feel lighter. She danced and danced for the longest time as if she had a pair of red shoes on, going with the flow was something she mastered and she proved it.

She didn’t know how long it had been but when she opened her eyes, she spotted Priyanka on the bar again. A sense of heat ran through her body before the idea she was being seen. Her moves became more calculated, she wanted to put a show for real this time but make it effortlessly like she had no clue like she wasn’t aware of the girl’s presence so close yet so far.

She followed Jennifer Lopez’ instructions in the lyrics of On The Floor.

Dance the night away, live your life and stay young on the floor.

She didn’t care if she was sweaty afterward or how sore her feet were going to be the next morning, she had achieved her goal.

And now she was thirsty which led to the bar and to…

“Ew, cinnamon.” Only Priyanka could like something like the taste of fireball.

Lemon recognized the guy that tried to grope her on the dance floor and of course, she told him to fuck off even when it sounded harsh for Priyanka.

And from moment to another –things were happening too fast- she was drinking tequila with her former best friend from kindergarten.

Lemon stared at Priyanka, her makeup was perfectly done and it looked like an ad for the rest of the night regardless of how much she danced. Maybe she was being biased since Priyanka hadn’t ever looked bad in her eyes.

“That girl… Denali…” Lemon tested the waters at the mention of her name. “is she… close to you?”

She had to know… if she was dating someone…

“I adore her, yeah.”

“Is she… your girlfriend?”

But Priyanka was a little shit who wasn’t going to give her a straight answer to one simple question. Instead, she asked the blonde something else.

“Would you care?”

Yes, she would.

But instead of saying that, her first instinct was to storm out and basically run away as she had done before. She was being a coward, yes, but she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t answer that question, not at that moment, when she wasn’t careful enough with her words.

There was a big chunk of that night that was dedicated strictly to dancing, if her shoes weren’t completely worn out by the end of the night what was the point? But she kept an eye on one girl here and there until she lost it and she was anywhere to be seen.

Lemon didn’t want to admit that she looked around like a lost puppy but that was exactly what she did –she was drunk, okay?- and lonely.

She could only be outside or, in the worst scenario, she had gone home already.

Fortunately, Priyanka was smoking outside.

Smoking?

“There you are.” She said, eloquently to her judgment.

Priyanka shrugged. “Here I am.

There she was, looking all perfect and beautiful and…

If Lemon could only take some courage and put it into words…

Instead, she just pointed the height difference between them.

After that, it became blurry, she probably babbled a little –although she did remember the sound of Priyanka’s laugh and being called a Polly Pocket the next morning- next thing she knew she was on a taxi, texting Rita to open the door so her dad wouldn’t hear her.

And the following morning…

Jeez, she had one infernal headache. The room was spinning and not even when she laid down and closed her eyes the movement stopped. Rita had contemplated poking her with a stick but she had read somewhere that it wasn’t recommended to bother a wild animal on their sleep and it applied to drunk Lemon as well.

Finally, she walked in, it smelled like a liquor store in there and the environment was probably flammable.

“Lemon…” Rita whispered. “I’m going to the mall and your dad and my mom are having lunch with some friends. Are you going to be okay?”

“Mmmh…” She was breathing at least.

“Okay, remember they’re cooking dinner tonight.”

“Mkay…” She mumbled.

“Love you, bye.” She blew a kiss in the air and closed the door.

Lemon woke up what felt like hours later, she forced herself to take a bath. There wasn’t a damn aspirin to be seen in that house and she had already drunk more water than her bladder could handle. It wasn’t the best of the starts but at least she could walk.

When she stopped feeling dizzy, she grabbed her keys and drove to the supermarket because there weren’t Froot Loops either and her morning –morning being a loose term since it was almost noon- was already bad enough.

Not to mention that some idiot was playing around with a shopping cart inside of the supermarket and almost destroyed the cereal aisle.

“Jesus Christ you’re going to kill someone with that.” She clutched her imaginary pearls.

Wait a minute, she knew that idiot.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Priyanka mumbled.

Not now, not with that cranky mood, not with a killing headache, not when she only wanted a bowl of cereal and crawl back to bed.

Of course she was going to tell her to fuck off.

But then…Priyanka picked the cookie cereal and Lemon’s stone heart melt right in the spot. For years, whenever she saw chocolate chip cookies in the aisles of the supermarkets, in cafés, or with freaking girl scouts, she couldn’t help but think about that little kindergarten girl with big brown eyes and crumbs over her face.

And years later, she was in front of her…

Some things might have changed but they felt oddly familiar at that moment.

Priyanka not only had terrible taste in drinks, but it also applied to cars too… because that thing was setting on fire in no time.

Lemon had just walked out of the supermarket, she crossed the street, put her things into the trunk and bought some aspirins but when she was about to leave, she saw Priyanka sitting at the curb under her personal dark cloud… and another dark cloud behind her.

She should’ve left her there, it wasn’t any of her business but… she looked truly devastated.

“Looks like you could use a ride.” Priyanka glared at her.

“Not now.” She blurted out. “I don’t have time for your snarky comments so please refrain from saying anything you’d think is clever.”

Lemon lifted her sunglasses. “I’m not trying to get on your nerves; I’m legit offering you a ride.” Priyanka didn’t seem convinced. “Think for a moment, your groceries are going to go bad with the heat and no air conditioner.”

C’mon Priyanka, think for a moment…

“The ice cream bars…” She was on the verge of tears. “Fine. Yes, I need a ride, would you be so nice and help me out?”

“Come with me, my car is around the corner in front of the drugstore.”

“Buying some aspirins?”

“Cut the slack I’m trying to do a good deed here.”

“For a change.”

She was expecting a comment from the brunette about the fact that she had a yellow car and she did it as soon as they got into the car. What Lemon didn’t expect was forgetting which street led to Priyanka’s house. Maybe back in the day, she didn’t pay much attention but she was sure something had been changed, she remembered the way like the back of her hand… or maybe she didn’t.

It was nice of Priyanka to ask about her family. Lemon’s mother always asked at loud if she had news of the girl to which the blonde replied grumbling that they weren’t friends anymore. She secretly hoped her father would tell her if he had seen her in the supermarket or the street but since she moved to Toronto those meetings became rare… that was part of why she put Jan’s plan into motion.

Because she always missed her.

Then, Priyanka asked about Rihanna… how dared she questioning her impeccable music taste?

Obviously, she liked Rihanna. What kind of stupid question was that?

“Hey, this is the album you gave me before moving to New York, remember?”

“I do… that’s actually the copy I used to have in my room… the one we listened to on my radio.”

Lemon’s hands closed their grip over the steering wheel. That album was one of her most treasured possessions, she had shed giant tears the day it stopped working when the stereo of the car kept spitting the CD no matter how many times she tried it. The box had a permanent space inside the glove compartment.

Having Priyanka sitting next to her, holding it in her hands felt surreal for a moment as if seven years had never passed.

“Why did you keep it?”

Lemon thought about that question. Sometimes simple objects like that were the only link to the past and having them around was like owning a time-traveling machine that took her directly to the memories, that took her back to Priyanka and to that bond that once felt unbreakable.

Instead, she mumbled something about «sentimental value» which was the most generic thing to say.

Now, going back to her house did feel like they were using a time machine. It was comforting to know that some things were still the same there but still, the passage of time was perceptible through photos or little details that Lemon remembered. There were more children in the family pictures and it hit her that Priyanka’s mother was now a grandmother and that Priyanka was now an aunt. How crazy was that?

Back in the day, she couldn’t even imagine her friend taking care of a plant much less a living human being, and still, the photos told her otherwise.

Thank goodness the aspirins were starting to work but even though, that headache wasn’t going to stop her from fighting for that car that her friend –for some reason- loved so much. That mechanic was going to have a piece of her mind, she didn’t care if the car was actually set on fire with flames coming out of the engine, he had to tell Priyanka there was a possible solution to that problem.

All was not lost.

That was what he had said and a phrase that lingered in the air long after. It even made Lemon feel hopeful about the car’s state and considering she had called it a jalopy multiple times, it was something.

“Thank you, Lemon… for helping me so much today. You didn’t have to but still, you did.”

Priyanka’s words made her heart swell.

She started the engine. “You’ve done the same for me no questions asked.”

She knew Priyanka would have.

“Are you feeling better after the aspirins?”

“Yeah… I’m never drinking again I swear…”

“That’s a lie.”

“It is…”

“Do you even remember what you said? Last night?”

The question caught Lemon by surprise. She was trying to rack her brains to find that missing information, one of the endless possibilities of stupid things she might have said while being drunk… chances were…

“What did I say?” She was about to have an attack of some kind.

Priyanka started laughing.

Bitch.

“Priyanka, what did I say?”

Her hands were shaking but she held the steering wheel tighter.

“You called me Sprinky and kept asking if Denali is my girlfriend.”

Lemon breathed again. “Thank God… it was just that…”

Her soul had returned to her body.

“I remember that part, you never answered the question anyway.” She said. It seemed appropriate to bring the question back so she could have a clear answer.

Priyanka sighed. “Denali is my friend. Just that… we’re friends. Are you happy now?”

…sort of…

She was about thirty percent happier… yeah… was it something bad?

And then the conversation went somewhere Lemon knew they would eventually talk about.

“So you know… you know I like girls…”

Lemon could feel the sense of fear behind her words, the what if I’m not accepted? After pronouncing that short sentence, after baring her soul.

Lemon just nodded.

“And are you okay with that?”

She looked at Priyanka. “Why wouldn’t I? Of course I’m okay with that…”

Lemon wanted to scream from the top of her lungs… how could she even imagine that she wouldn’t be okay with it? When she…

“Don’t tell me that on top of you thinking that I dislike Rihanna you also consider myself to be homophobic or an ignorant asshole… that being the same thing.” She spat.

Then, she told Priyanka about Jan and Jackie and she suddenly found herself missing them, wishing her friends from New York could also be there in her hometown, she wanted them to meet Priyanka and her high school friends… having her two worlds collide.

After dropping Priyanka back and seeing her mother again, Lemon left with a sense of warmness over her body. She had spent an entire afternoon with her childhood best friend and they were finally at a point where they felt comfortable with each other to share new things and anecdotes alike like normal friends.

Friends.

A friendship with Priyanka was something she had never expected from that trip back home.

Later that week, Lemon got a text message from Boa asking if she was going to the lake thing she was organizing. Her phone buzzed a second later she read the first message.

«I ran into Scarlett and Priyanka and they’re in.»

Lemon bit her inner cheek. She didn’t care, why she’d care?

Right… they were cool now… they were somehow friends again…

But going into nature wasn’t something she was particularly fond of. She still had a scar from that time her dad had insisted that hiking was a good father-daughter activity. Why couldn’t they plan something like a shopping day? Inside of the mall, with functioning air conditioning… wonders of the modernity like electricity?

“Rita, do you want to spend the day in a lake?” She asked the other girl who was flipping through a book’s pages while sitting on the sofa.

“Sure, sounds interesting.” She said without looking away from the book.

“Ugh. You too?” She slumped on the sofa.

She sighed loudly.

“What’s the matter?” Rita asked, accustomed to her behavior and unbothered by it.

“I don’t know… I’m don’t want to go to a lake but…”

She wanted to see Priyanka.

“Don’t go then.”

“No! That’s not the solution.” She grumbled. “Ah, I don’t know…”

Rita closed her book. “What would cheer you up? Pizza? A movie? What’s that movie you’re always talking about?”

“Mean Girls.”

“The other one.”

“Clueless.”

“One that I haven’t watched before.”

“Oh, you mean Drop Dead Gorgeous?”

“That one… why don’t you go get the DVD or something and we’ll watch it tonight.”

Lemon was about to protest but she just nodded. “Okay… I’ll drop by the video club.”

“And I’ll order the pizza.”

“Can you also order mozzarella sticks?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Lemon got up and walked toward the garage. The door close behind her.

“Now I can finish this book.”

She knew that the greatest film genre a.k.a. the chick flick movie genre was in the same aisle and that the DVD she was looking for was there, somewhere. It was an empty DVD box but she’d take it to the cashier and show her dad’s membership card or so to pay for it.

Lemon had the DVD on her hands when a little kid almost ran over her.

“Wow! Careful there.”

She looked at the little girl in front of her and she had a déjà vu. By a general rule, Lemon didn’t like children –from the distance they were alright but upfront…- she didn’t know what to do with them. However, this kid immediately got her soft side because she reminded her of someone close to her heart.

The little girl with big brown eyes stared at her for a moment. Lemon was paralyzed thinking she was going to cry or something but to her surprise, she just gave her a compliment.

“You’re very pretty.” She said with her adorable voice.

If there was something she liked, it was getting complimented.

“Aw, thank you…you’re very pretty too.”

Wait, was she on her own? Maybe she didn’t find her parents.

Lemon kneeled to get closer to her level. “Are you lost?”

She shook her head.

“What’s your name?” She tried again.

“I’m Melanie.”

“Nice to meet you, Melanie. I’m Lemon, like the fruit.”

“Nice to meet you… Miss Lemon.”

She was going to melt right there.

“Did you come here with your mom? With your dad?”

She shook her head again. “With my auntie.”

“Ah, I see… What do you say if we look for your auntie?”

“She’s right there.” She pointed at someone behind Lemon.

Lemon turned around and met the brunette’s eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Oh. It’s you, auntie… I should’ve guessed.”

“The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it?” Priyanka smiled proudly.

It was the girl she had seen in the pictures, back at her house the other day and now, seeing them next to each other, she couldn’t deny they looked alike.

Wait for a second, her name was Melanie?

“You really convinced your brother to name his daughter like two-fifths of the Spice Girls, didn’t you?”

Priyanka panicked. She rushed and covered her niece’s ears. “Shhhh… He doesn’t know that yet. It took me seven of the nine months of my sister-in-law’s pregnancy to plant the idea… neither Ginger nor Emma were working, so it was down to Melanie or Victoria.”

Of course…

Then Priyanka sent her niece to get a movie and they exchanged some commentaries about the movie Lemon was about to rent. It surprised her when the brunette asked about the lake activity.

“So… are you going to the lake thing Boa’s planning?”

Lemon shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not that into nature and being eaten by bugs…”

Sounded lovely when she put it like that.

“Oh, so she’s a city girl now.”

“Listen, I spent a good ten years of my life going camping with my dad and hating every second of it. I thought it was finally over when I moved.”

“The girls and I are going… and I’m sure we’re taking some type of booze with us, snacks, a campfire… It will be fun.”

Could it be that…? This was her chance to know.

Lemon tilted her head. “I didn’t know you wanted me to go.” She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Boa said the more the merrier… plus my car is still at the workshop and Scarlett might have screwed up her relationship with the one person that has a car among us.”

“So you need a ride… that’s it?”

Disappointing… Although, she was used to.

“Yeah… and it’ll be fun being all together again.”

“Sure… okay. I’ll tell Rita and we’ll be there.”

“Really?”

Lemon nodded.

Hey, maybe she was right and it would be fun… kind of.

At that moment, Priyanka’s niece returned with a DVD of Brave in her hand.

“Are you dating my auntie Pri?” She asked unscrupulous and unfiltered like any six-year-old.

Lemon almost had a heart attack. She just stared and then looked at Priyanka.

The brunette’s mouth dropped to the floor.

“Mel! You can’t ask people… That’s not… You don’t get to…”

“But daddy said that you like girls and that if you were going to date someone it would be a girl… and she’s a girl.”

Lemon covered her mouth with her hand, she was blushing underneath.

“Mel just because I’m talking to a girl it doesn’t mean that I’m dating her.”

“But she’s pretty… she’s prettier than you.”

“Oh, I like her.” Lemon giggled.

“Hey! You little brat, who’s the one renting movies with you.”

“Why aren’t you dating her, auntie Pri?” Priyanka covered the girl’s mouth.

Lemon didn’t say a word but she’d like to know the answer to that question as well.

“Okay, I think it’s time to go home. Brave, huh? Good choice.” She looked at Lemon. “See you on Thursday…?”

The blonde smiled. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay, great.”

“Goodbye, Priyanka. Bye, Mel.” She waved at them.

She had to pay for her movie too but she waited until they left the store to do it. Then she drove back home and informed Rita they were going on a little camping day or whatever.

“Make sure you pack the bug repellent I gotta text Boa.”

On Thursday morning, Lemon drove to Tynomi’s house because she had to pick a cooler. She didn’t know that was the base of operations, almost everyone was already there and they were getting the cars and supplies ready.

“Oh, hey Lemon.”

It was Denali, Priyanka’s friend. Emphasis on the word friend.

“Hi! How are you?” She hugged the girl who seemed a bit startled by it.

“Good to see you again…”

“Yeah.” She smiled at her.

“Actually, good thing I bumped into you. Scarlett wanted me to tell you that Juice and she are going to pick up Priyanka from her house on their way here.”

“I beg your pardon?” She blinked twice. “I’m picking Priyanka, I already told her.”

Denali raised her hands in the air. “I’m just passing on the message.”

Lemon grabbed her phone from her back pocket and marked Scarlett’s number.

“Hello? What’s up?”

“I’m picking up Priyanka. I spoke with her the other day and we agreed on that since her car is fucked and your relationship is fucked.”

“Was… Okay? Juice and I made up. There were roses and everything.”

“That’s adorable, congratulations to the happy couple.” The sarcasm behind her words was strong.

“Priyanka’s house is on the way, we can drive her to the lake… unless…”

Oh, God.

“Is there a reason why you’d want to drive her?”

“No… There isn’t any reason besides I already told her I was going to pick her up. Why is it so difficult to understand? I don’t like my plans to be changed.”

Scarlett dared to laugh.

“I called her earlier so you don’t have to worry about that. I insist though if you had a valid reason to be her driver today I’d…”

“Fuck off. Okay, yeah… I want to spend some extra time with her.” She murmured. Denali raised an eyebrow.

“You could have started there. It wasn’t that difficult, was it?”

“Shut up.”

“Well, Juice and I are driving straight to Tynomi’s. Can you pick Priyanka up then?”

“Yeah… I guess I can.”

“You’re fucking terrible.”

“Wait, since you have an empty space in your car, can you take Rita with you?”

“Oh, so you want some alone time…”

“C’mon.”

“I mean, I haven’t spoken a lot with her but if she’s okay with it…”

“She’s French Canadian, Kiara too, they’ll get along.”

“So you’re playing the language card now.”

“Sure, whatever. Can you?” Lemon rolled her eyes even when she couldn’t see it.

“We’ll take good care of her. Good luck with your little da-”

Lemon hung up before she could finish that sentence.

Denali stared at her, a bit terrified.

“All set.” She had a mischievous smile on her face.

Lemon rolled down her window. “Get in loser, we’re going to a lake… for some reason.”

Seeing Priyanka’s surprise was more than anything she ever wanted. She didn’t look upset at all and that was a relief. Lemon wasn’t going to tell her about all the arrangements she had to do so they could spend some time alone –and she hoped that for their own welfare that Scarlett or the other girls didn’t mention it either.

They didn’t have much time together already with their imminent separation. Lemon would have to go back to New York in less than a week and Priyanka was probably heading toward Toronto as well. They had lost too much already with their silly banters and those minutes were precious on her eyes.

Except, they got lost. It wasn’t on purpose.

And even when she didn’t show it, Lemon started feeling the panic slowly crawling when after their third turn when the stupid lake was nowhere to be seen. It was humiliating that they had to stop and ask for indications but thankfully they got there without any incident.

She was sure Priyanka was going to make fun of her for getting them in trouble and arriving late –which she did- but as soon as they met the others, she did what she did best, shaking Lemon’s little bitter heart.

“Yeah, can you believe I told her the wrong entry on the highway? Lemon almost killed me we were spinning around for like fifteen minutes, right?” She looked at her and winked.

Lemon didn’t know what to do next, her brain was malfunctioning.

“Ah, yeah…” She babbled as she felt her cheeks heating up. “But we’re here… so… it doesn’t matter.”

“Priyanka you dumbass, we’ve come this way before.” Scarlett nagged her.

“Oh, shut up… I forgot.” She picked her backpack and threw it over her shoulder. Lemon hadn’t moved. “Hey, let’s go. We have all day ahead.”

She had to do something, react somehow but she was paralyzed. Priyanka was right, they had all day ahead but she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to handle it much longer.

“I think we’ve been set up.” Priyanka said when they were both at the boat.

Lemon should’ve guessed it. The way they moved suspiciously and how they had sent Tynomi to casually ask her if she had ever been in a boat before… it was all part of a greater plan to get them in the middle of the lake alone. Suddenly the lake wasn’t all that boring anymore.

For Lemon, that was the moment and the place to talk about what had happened between them, especially since Priyanka had been so open about that horrible story of her first kiss. To think that Lemon once had been mad about the fact she didn’t tell her about it, now she understood, it was bad enough to listen to it, she couldn’t imagine how she felt back in the day and reliving it wasn’t easy either.

They talked for what felt like hours and the conversation flowed avidly once they spoke about the elephant in the room but still, something was missing.

And then she had to put the stupid glasses on. For ages, she had hated being called names because of them and, when she finally convinced her mother to get contact lenses, it was a victory. Now, she didn’t want to go back to it nor Priyanka to see her like that… as if she was a kid again.

“Don’t make fun of me.” She mumbled. “I never wear these in public…”

It was a little plea but she meant it.

“Lemon, I’ve known you for ages I do remember how you look like with glasses on.”

Priyanka took the glasses and opened the temples before placing them gently on her face. She adjusted the nose pads above her nose and removed some hairs out of her face.

“There,” She looked proud of her work. “See, nothing less than stunning.”

When the brunette put the glasses on her face, she knew it.

Priyanka was going to kiss her.

She could feel it on her bones, she could feel it deep inside, her heart couldn’t stop beating fast.

She was going to kiss her, there was no doubt.

But she didn’t… for some reason, in the last second she backed out. Lemon didn’t know why but she could almost swear for her life Priyanka was going to kiss her. She regretted not shortening the distance just a couple of centimeters when she realized, it was too late.

However, now that Lemon had that information… she could take action.

She washed her hands in the bathroom when they were back and looked at the reflection in the mirror. She looked good, just a couple locks out of place and her cheeks a bit red due to the sun but she had Priyanka’s jacket on and she knew what her next step was going to be.

If Priyanka didn’t kiss her first, she was going to kiss Priyanka.

First, she’d take her somewhere they could be alone, -maybe with some silly excuse she’d invent on her way back to the campfire- she’d grab her hand and pull her even if she protested –because she was going to-, there was a cozy spot with a couple of tree trunks cut where they could sit, fireflies were going to start flying around and the buzz of the other people would become background noise. Lemon would pick a fight with her about the first thing that’d come to her mind and when Priyanka was too into it to even notice, she was going to lean in and kiss her to shut her mouth.

It was the kiss she had postponed for so long –years- because above of all, Lemon was deeply, stupidly, madly in love with her best friend since she could remember. It had taken a lot of time to realize that those feelings she had inside were that -love- but now she was confident it was mutual.

That was until…

“I’m being serious right now.” She cleared her throat. “Lemon and I are friends… that’s it. Don’t try to push it further because it’s not going to happen.”

The knot grew on her throat, her eyes were getting watery to the point she couldn’t see clearly; her heart was breaking somewhere inside her and the physical pain almost got her on her knees.

It’s not going to happen.

What a fool… what a stupid, fucking fool she was…

Priyanka didn’t think of her like that and she and her childish crush were nothing more than that, one-sided feelings. Priyanka and she were friends and they were never going to be more than friends. For a moment she had believed it but it was too good to be true.

She wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and put the mask on.

“Hey, do you mind going back with the girls? I was talking to Rita and she’s kind of tired so I’m going home with her.” She hadn’t spoken to Rita and she hated she’d have to ruin the fun for her but she couldn’t be there any longer and that was the excuse that became handy.

“Oh, sure. No problem. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, just tired and maybe sunburn. I don’t want to drive when it’s too late either.” Her voice didn’t break as she lied.

“Alright. Are you still coming to dinner with my family? My mom said she’ll be waiting for you.”

Right. She had promised her mother she was visiting them…

“Saturday, right? I’ll be there.” She smiled. “I’m really glad we got to talk today, Pri.”

“Me too.”

She hugged her Lemon before she left.

Lemon whispered into Rita’s ear she wasn’t feeling alright and with that, the two girls got into the yellow car. They didn’t even get out of the park when Lemon stopped the car. Her knuckles turned white from holding the steering wheel too tight.

“Hey…” Rita reached for her. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, let me drive.”

They exchanged seats without saying a word.

“Would you like me to play some music? I can put some CD on…”

“Just put whatever you want, it’ll be fine.” She sobbed.

Rita put the Taylor Swift album on because it was the first thing that she could find in the glove compartment. Lemon wasn’t in the mood for any kind of music really, but at least that would fill the awkward silence. She didn’t want to talk with Rita, she didn’t want to talk at all… she just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

Not her dad’s house, her home back in New York with her friends…

She was too far away.

When track nº 6 started playing, she skipped it without hesitation. She couldn’t listen to those lyrics without going back to her best friend as if she was going to wake up one day and realize… the idea was absurd. How could she ever believe that?

White Horse or Teardrops on my Guitar seemed more fitting.

Fearless, huh? What a joke. She wasn’t fearless, she was a coward who had waited too long.

She didn’t bawl until she touched the mattress of the bed, she didn’t shed a tear until her face made contact with the pillow and she stifled a cry on it. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t pretend everything was fine for any longer.

The tears felt too heavy to be held so she cried and cried until her eyes were dried out.

She didn’t notice she was still wearing Priyanka’s jacket until she tried to wipe the tears off her face with the sleeve. It smelled like her and it kept her warm like a hug. She wrapped herself with the jacket and closed her eyes until she fell asleep.