#i got doormats and clothes drawers and now this

[diekerel]

I've got a new PC coming in the next week or so, my first proper gaming PC (I've only had laptops and tablets up to now), so i bought a new desk.

[bitbybitwrites]

Thank you to @forabeatofadrum , @wordsofhoneydew , @onthewaytosomewhere , @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion for tagging me for Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday!

I'm tired - are you all tired? Can I nap now?

Writing is going slowly, but its going:)

Some bits and pieces from assorted Klaine and RWRB WIP for you all under the link.

1.) From Puppy Love (RWRB Fluffy kid!fic): (cc @omgbarbiegurl )

“I know it’s crazy because maybe it’s kind of soon in our friendship and all . . but . . .” “Henry,” Nora gave him this warning glare that he felt even Raf wouldn’t be able to to ignore. “ . .Would you be my emergency dog sitter/walker when I’m caught in a bind?” Henry blurted out quickly. “Of course!”  Henry sighed in relief.  “Thank you.”  “Did you seriously think I’d say no?” Nora looked at David as he rolled over again to hint at a need for belly scratches.  “I can hardly say no to Raf, you think I’d do the same to you and this adorable little guy?”  She reached down to satisfy David’s insatiable need for attention, chuckling as she heard the happy grunts the beagle made as soon as she started. Henry reached into his pocket and tentatively pulled out a spare key for his apartment.  “I trust that you’ll use this sparingly and only when necessary?” “I will guard it with my life, “ Nora exclaimed as she took possession of the key.  “And I promise to refold everything in your underwear drawer after I rifle through it.” She winked. “I am regretting this decision already.” Nora stuck her tongue out at Henry playfully.  “Oh you’re full of it.  You know you love me, or you wouldn’t have asked. I am a delight!.” “You sound like Papi,” Raf said as he took over scratching David’s belly. “He learned from the best, kiddo,” Nora said, smirking. “I might be in need of your services sooner than later - but only if it won’t disrupt you and Raf.  If it will, I’m sure David would be fine by himself for a few hours today.” Henry confessed. “Noooooooooo!” Raf wailed, hugging David tightly.  “Can David stay and play?  Please Tia Nora? Please? Please-please-please-please?”  Raf turned on the pout and the puppy eyes.  David seemed to get the memo, Henry could have sworn the beagle was looking at Nora with the same expression. It was impossible for anyone to say no to those eyes ( human and canine).“Only if you finish your homework first.  Play after, OK?” Nora sighed as she told Raf.  “Someone’s got to be responsible here.  Your father trusted me with that.” Raf cheered as he gave David another big hug and was rewarded with a multitude of doggie kisses in return.  Henry had to grin at the bond David was developing with the little boy.  It was the kind of friendship he wished he had when he was younger.  A dog like David certainly would have made life in his grandmother’s house so much more tolerable. “Am I ever getting my dog back there do you think?” Henry asked as he leaned in to Nora. “I’m not quite sure.” Nora snickered.  “He’ll be in good hands, I promise.” She nudged Henry gently with her shoulder.  “Not to be too nosy.  But is everything OK?  Us watching David is kind of out of the blue - you two have been inseparable ever since you adopted him and brought him home.” Henry blushed as he fiddled with the postcard in his hands. “I . .um . . may have . .  a date.” “Shut up!” Nora cried gleefully as she smacked him on the arm.  “That’s fantastic!  Oh god, what will happen when Mrs. Schoenfeld finds out?  Will she double down on the baked goods to win you over?”  Nora cackled loudly at the thought. Henry groaned. “If that happens, I am leaving everything on your doormat.”

2.) From Sanctuary (Klaine fantasy AU): ( cc @datshitrandom and @justgleekout)

Taking the items and quickly tying them up in the cloth that the princeling had brought with him, the young woman paused for a moment, her eyes closing and her brow furrowing in concern. With one hand resting on her growing belly and one resting on the wooden table to support her weight, she paused in her task abruptly.   Blaine held his breath as he watched.  Mistress Fabray was a gifted young woman who came from a long line of seers.  He had heard of her visions and how they could overtake her at any time of the day or night. It was why she lived in the small secluded cottage away from the prying eyes of those in the castle. A slight breeze blew through the cottage, setting the assortment of crystals hanging above the window chiming softly against one another.  Quinn’s eyes filled with a golden glow, masking the kind brown ones that often were there. Her body shuddered as the vision overtook her. She gasped out, her voice gravelly and hard : Over hill, through darkened dale The blood flows fast, the cheek grows pale The crown that clatters to the ground Lies tarnished now and makes no sound. The bird that flies on moonlit wings No longer soars, no longer sings It tumbles swiftly from its nest So longing for its heart to rest By waters edge its finds its place Its soul will mend. A kindly face, Two lives entwined, two spirits one Beneath the boughs, warmed by the sun The courage lost is found in plain sight A journey then from day to night Brings fledglings back toward home and then The crown once rusted, shines again Falling to her knees, the seeress cried out as if in pain.  The princeling rushed forward to catch her as she went limp in his arms, her eyes rolling backward.  Panic begun to set in as Blaine lowered her gently to the floor.  He had to get help. “Watch over her, puss," the young prince ordered the brindle cat aa he stumbled out of the cottage door and down the well worn path that led farther into the wood.

3.) From my online auction!AU - how ardently i admire and love you - (RWRB fic)

Alex looked up to see his older sister come through the door, kicking off her heels and walking over to them.  June leaned over to kiss Nora as she grabbed a burrito for herself. She plopped down on the other end of the couch , dropping her feet in her brother’s lap and wigging her toes. “What’s the existential crisis, lil bit?” She asked, her eyes twinkling merrily. Alex huffed at his sister as he slowly picked away at the burrito in his hands.  “Henry’s birthday.” “Ahhhhh,” June nodded in understanding.  “Planning a party or buying a gift?” “Gift.” Nora responded around a mouth full of burrito. “Everything I think of he either owns, or has turned out to not be so great of an idea.  Bea talked me down from buying a polo pony a while ago.” June wrinkled her nose at that suggestion.  “Really Alex?  Polo?”   “I know, I know . . Bea said the same thing.” “It’s just not really . . .Henry.” Nora said  as she passed the bag of tortilla chips to the siblings. "Don't get me wrong, I know he plays but he's never gave me that rich-guy-polo-vibe. He's too down to earth, really." “I was at the end of my rope.” “Naughty . . .” Nora teased, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “There’s a good shibari workshop I know of . . if that’s more your thing.” “Nora!” June hissed, giving her girlfriend the “do-not-talk-about-that-in-front-of-my-little-brother” glare. “Oh . . . .OH . . . oh . . eeeeeewwww,” Alex groaned as he looked at the both of them, his head bobbing back and forth as if he was watching a tennis match between the two.  “No. Stop.  Stop right there.  Too much information.  I don’t ever want that picture seared into my brain.” “No kink shaming, Alex.” June said as she poked him in the stomach with her ankle. “Never say the words ‘kink’  and’ shaming’ to me in the same sentence ever again, Bug.  I never want to know how you two defile this apartment when I’m not here.” “But . . .” piped up Nora. “Never. Want. To. Know.”

4.) From If I Can Make Your Heart My Home ( Klaine fic) (cc @datshitrandom)

“Hello, my darling.  Have you been here long?” Cooper glanced up from his phone to see his grandmother standing in front of him, two steaming paper cups in her hands.  She offered one to him which he took gratefully. “Thanks, Nan.” He said, sighing as he took a long pull from the cup.  “Did your meeting go well?” She sighed.  “As well as it could have gone,  I suppose.  June is still livid about what happened at the Martell Fundraiser. But I suppose one can’t blame her.”  Lillian peered down the hallway towards her grandson’s room. “How was Blaine today?” “As well as could be expected.  What was it that Doctor Figgins told us? Pneumonia? “Bacterial pneumonia that was too far gone.” Nana said sadly.  “I should have caught on, but your brother was trying to not let me see how ill he was.” “Pain in the ass,” muttered Cooper, taking another sip of his coffee.”If he already wasn’t in the hospital, I’d put him in there myself.” Lillian chuckled.  “Why are you sitting out here?  Oh, and did Sam come by today?  He told me he would when I ran into him this morning.” Cooper stretched his long legs and arms, yawning deeply.  “I’m sorry, I just needed a bit of a break.  Since Blaine ’s been sleeping most of the time, I don’t think he would have noticed if I slipped out for a bit.  But yeah, Sam came by for a bit during lunch, dropped off some comic books for Blaine.  Told me Schubert is having a grand ole time having a sleepover with him.” Cooper’s eyes darted back down the hall toward where Blaine’s room was located.  “Nan, that fellow, Kurt, came by again.” he confessed  “He’s in with Blaine now.  I kind of felt he needed privacy. Blaine’s still asleep, though.” Lillian’s eyes softened.  “I’m glad he came to visit.” “What’s his deal, Nan?  What’s going on between those two?” “Kurt and Blaine have a lot to figure out and a lot to talk about, Cooper,” Lillian said.  “And that’s all you’ll get from me.” Cooper pouted.  “You’re no fun.” Lillian rolled her eyes as she stood up, brushing wrinkles away from her skirt.  “And you, my darling, love gossip too much.  Just like your grandfather.”

Ooof . . that was a lot.

So tagging for folks ( no pressure!): @hkvoyage, @spaceorphan18, @14carrotghoul, @myheartalivewrites, @kirakiwiwrites , @madas-ahatters-world and and anyone else who wants to go for it - go ahead!

[pedrito-friskito]

the ranch: thunder clouds - javier peña x fem!reader

summary: javier just has a way of making everything better.

warnings: smut, fluff, javi, outside fun, voyeurism if u squint, unprotected p-in-v (wrap ur shit !!!!!!), I’m a feral little fuck these days but I’m here for it

a/n: we’re back on the ranch, folks. in all honesty, this is pretty self-indulgent but I just had to share 💕

| main masterlist | series masterlist | ao3 |

gif by @pedropascalsx 💕

The house is empty, when Javier walks through the door.

He hasn’t even called your name yet, hasn’t wandered into the kitchen to see if you’d stepped onto the back porch, if you’re lounging in the swing with a book in your hand. He knows it’s empty, knows you’re not in it, that you presence isn’t permeating the air like it normally is, warm and familiar to him.

It makes his brow furrow, the crease deepening as he turns to hang his keys on the hook and sees a little yellow sticky note on the wall beside the door. Put there purposefully, where you knew he’d see it when he got home.

Back field. Come and find me.

He hasn’t even toed off his boots yet, and he wipes his feet on the doormat before walking through the house, straight out the back door and out towards the back field. The sun is hiding behind big rolling clouds that threaten rain, the whisper of fall whistling through the air as Javi stalks his way through the grass.

You had found the place the first time you’d visited the ranch. Javi wasn’t even sure how you’d managed it; he swore the spot hadn’t even existed until you’d set foot on the land, and the trees and grass and flowers just rearranged themselves for you, making a space for you to call your own, a little escape for you to slink away to.

Javi follows the worn path in the grass, holding his hand out and letting his palm skim the tops of the growing wheat stalks as he goes. He’s cataloguing with every step, making mental notes of the things he can see as he walks, tallying up the things he has to do.

But then he sees you, tucked away in your little oasis, and his mind pushes everything else aside, only keeping space for you.

The spot is down towards the river that runs the edge of the property, cutting a line in the farmland between the Peña ranch and the neighbour’s. The ground is softer, often muddy in some places, but you never seem to mind. Two large desert willows flank either side, the  flowers turning the grass beneath into a jigsaw of pink petals and green blades. There’s a few rocks to the side, the flat surface where Javi’s often found you sunbathing during the day, stretched out with your head tilted back, basking in the warmth, waiting for him to be done his chores so he can enjoy the rest of his day with you.

But today, he’s greeted with a different sight.

Your usual work clothes are missing, and Javi starts to wonder how long you’d been home before he’d ridden back to the ranch house, how long before you’d wandered out to your sanctuary. The flannel stretched across your shoulders is his, the too-long sleeves rolled past your elbows, which are braced around your knees. Tight, black leggings cover your lower half, and when Javi lets out a low whistle, your head whips in his direction, hair wafting in the evening breeze, and he sees his yellow aviators perched on your nose, eyes squinting at him from behind the tinted lenses.

You’d laughed at them originally, when you’d unearthed them from a drawer where they’d been forgotten, a Colombia staple he couldn’t bear for the first few months he was home. “No wonder Steve gave you hell,” you’d giggled, sliding them onto your nose. “How do I look?”

“Much better than I ever did; they’re yours now,” Javier had said, and kissed you long and hard right there in the living room.

Now, he watches you slip the glasses of your face, tucking them into the pocket of your shirt, and he closes the distance between you, an awkward grunt as he lowers himself onto the ground behind you, legs bracketing your hips. Javier puts both arms around your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest and settling his chin into the curve of your neck.

“Hey there, cowboy,” you murmur, running your hands down his forearms before linking your hands with his. “I see you found my note.”

+

It wasn’t a bad day, per se.

It was just…strange. Everything felt off, your steps feeling like they faltered when they didn’t, everything from a stray hair at the back of your neck to a pen mark on your hand irking you, adding to the strange feeling that had settled in your chest. You felt unfocused all day, your mind settling on one thing for a moment before moving onto the next. You’d blamed it on too much coffee in the morning, but by the afternoon, you were still distracted, strung out, tense.

You just wanted to go home, but as soon as the clock hit three, it seemed to stay there forever, only moving five minutes when it felt like five hours.

Finally fed up, you told your boss you weren’t feeling well and ducked out, maybe going a bit over the speed limit to get home faster than normal. Maybe just a bit. The whole way, you were hoping and praying that Javi had finished his day early too, struck by some cosmic urge to come home early and be with you.

But the ranch house was empty when you burst through the front door. Head still feeling like a lead weight, you’d forced yourself into the shower, hoping the steam would help melt away some of the weirdness pooled in your gut, but it didn’t do much. You’d nabbed one of Javier’s flannel shirts from his side of the closet as you’d dressed, and the feeling of the soft fabric against your bare skin had done something, the fresh scent of his cologne clinging to his clothes and invading your senses.

Now, that? That helped some more.

You’d paced the kitchen for a while, waiting for him to come through the door. You contemplated baking, gave up on that quick, toyed with the idea of heading out onto the land to try and find Javi, but then the idea had ticked in the back of your mind, and before you could think twice, you were scribbling the note, putting it somewhere you knew for sure he would find, and setting out towards your favourite spot on the ranch.

“I see you found my note.”

Javier lets out a little snort behind you, lifting his head and resting his chin on your crown. “Hard to miss, cariño. Although, I was half-expecting a game of hide-and-seek.”

You grin, leaning back further into his embrace, pulling your linked hands tighter around your middle. “Close your eyes, then, and I’ll go hide.”

“Nope,” Javi murmurs, popping the p, squeezing you lightly. “You’re not going anywhere.” He bends his neck, kisses the top of your head. “Not till you tell me what’s going on.”

“How do you know something’s going on?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You only ever come out here on the weekends, and you always bring a book with you. And you were home before me, which almost never happens on Wednesdays, and your mouth is doing that little twitch thing it does when something’s going on.” Another little squeeze around your middle. “So, tell me. How do I fix it?”

You roll your head against his shoulder, tilting it to the side and giving him access to your throat again, which he accepts, pressing his stubbly jaw into the curve where your neck and shoulder connect. He leaves a wet kiss against your skin, the warmth of his mouth sending a shock down your spine. It clears your head some, the clouds in your mind parting while the ones above you roll quicker, darkening with every moment that passes.

It takes a moment or two, but you start to talk, telling Javier everything that had happened during the day, your missteps that just seemed to tally too quick, your murky mind and your muddled thoughts. Even as you speak, however, you can feel the fog lifting further, spurred further with the way his mouth doesn’t leave your throat, arms staying twined around you, rocking you back and forth slightly in the breeze.

Overhead, thunder rumbles, and Javi tightens his grip on you, lips leaving your neck as he tilts his head back to look up at the sky. “Storm’s coming,” he tells you, starting to move behind you. “We should head back.”

“Do we have to?”

He blinks down at you, clearly caught off guard and huffing a little laugh, quitting his attempt to get up. “If you’re okay getting soaked to the bone, I guess not.”

“You’ve never kissed me in the rain before.”

The statement rolls off your tongue as you settle back against his shoulder, and Javi turns his head to look at you, brow pinched, lips softly parted. “No, I guess I haven’t.” He thinks for a moment. “I should fix that, shouldn’t I?”

Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth at his tone, the suggestive quirk to his mouth. It’s funny, the effect he has on you, how his presence alone has cleared your strange unease, replacing it with a longing and love you keep reserved for one Javier Peña.

“Don’t have to wait for it to rain to start kissing you, do I?” he asks, and your jaw drops slightly, lip coming unstuck, eyes falling to his lips. Slowly, you shake your head, and he leans forward, one hand reaching up to pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. His mouth just ghosts over yours, the hairs of his moustache tickling your skin, the hooked tip of his nose nudging against yours. “Good.”

You’re accustomed to Javi’s soft kisses. You know his more feral side very well, too, the heat and lust dripping from his mouth to yours on nights spent tangled in your bedsheets or pressed against the shower wall. But the soft kisses, he gives those like gifts, like you’re the gift he’s meant to unwrap, using his gentle mouth to draw you out of yourself, showing him the side that’s meant just for him, that no one else gets to see but Javier. It’s breathy and it’s almost precarious, like you’re teetering on a tightrope that could snap in a second, the desperation that simmers beneath both your surfaces breaking through at any given moment. But it’s soft and it’s comforting and it feels like home. It feels like Javi.

That’s the kind of kiss he gives you now, breathing life into your lungs and taking only a little in return. You can’t stop yourself from lifting your now free hand to rest your palm against his cheek, his skin warm against yours.

You could drown in his soft kisses, you truly could. You’re half sure you could survive on them alone. But…clear as your previously clouded mind now is, there’s something more that you want, something that’s lurking beneath your surface, begging to be let out.

You nip at Javi’s bottom lip, almost harshly, and he grunts in response. He pinches your chin before sliding his hand up and into your hair, fisting it into a makeshift ponytail and tugging slightly, pulling your head back so he can meet your eyes. “Need something more than kisses, querida?” he asks, and your lip catches between your teeth again as you nod.

The next kiss is a feral one. He devours you, all tongue and teeth and tasting like your own slice of heaven. There’s something so manly about him, so passionate, the fire between you not sparking to life, but just stoking at what’s already there, consistently leaving you breathless and desperate for more. You return his intensity in kind, fingers slipping into his hair and tugging, drinking down the quiet moans that slip from his mouth to yours.

The hand not twisted in your hair dives towards your waist, easily finding the hem of your — his — shirt and deft fingers tracing up your side. “So soft,” he murmurs into your mouth, his voice husky and deep, hand moving north quickly, thumb swiping over your nipple and palm curving along the weight of your breast. “Always so fucking soft.”

You fist your hands in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, your body turning towards his as he releases his grip on your hair to tilt you sideways, the world spinning for a moment as he lays you on the grass. You can already feel the effect your bites and affections, the strain against the zipper of his work jeans, the worn denim thin in some places, making it easier for you to chase the hardness between his legs as he slots himself against your hips.

He grinds down into you, jaw dropping as you lean up to catch his lip between your teeth again, hands either side of his face, pulling his face down to yours. He goes willingly, elbows planting in the grass either side of your head. You can feel the heat pooling between your own legs, the longing manifesting itself and making your thighs twitch.

“My little minx,” he whispers, pulling his mouth from yours to trail kisses down your cheek, along your jaw and down your neck. He plucks at the collar of your shirt, pushing it to the side to bare more of your chest to him, leaning down to suck a bruise into your collar. You whine at the feeling, tossing your head back and lifting your hips. “Gonna make love to you right here.”

You keen at his words, tangling your fingers in his hair once more so you can yank his mouth back to yours. He tastes so good, that familiar mix of nicotine gum and coca-cola and something that you know is just Javier. “Please, Javi,” you breathe, sighing when his tongue touches yours, your tastebuds exploding with him. “Please, I want it so bad.”

Reaching between you, he hooks his fingers into the back of your leggings, dragging them down just enough, your underwear going with them, baring your ass to him. He pushes your thighs to the side, your knees curling upward, and you go to move further, but he doesn’t let you. “Just like this, querida,” he murmurs against your lips, dragging two fingers through your slick before giving your ass a squeeze. “Don’t move.”

You listen to him, breath heaving from your chest as he reaches for his belt, expertly undoing it with one hand and freeing himself from his jeans. He pushes them just low enough, and you can’t stop your eyes from dragging down his chest to his waist, saliva filling your mouth at the sight of his cock, hard and proud between his hips, tip dripping. Just for you.

Javier meets your eyes as he brings his hand to his mouth, spitting into his palm before curling his fingers around his length, pumping twice before dropping his hips and notching himself at your entrance. “Ready?”

You nod, chewing your lip furiously, but it drops open into a moan as he pushes inside. It’s impossibly tight, but you love every moment, eyes rolling back with every inch he sinks deeper. Javi plants his hands either side of your body, keeping your legs turned to the side, sliding home until his hips are flush with your ass and the back of your thighs. His nose twitches, lip curling as he sinks to the hilt, and you reach up a hand, trailing your fingers along his jaw. “Feel good, cariño?” you ask, and you feel his cock jump within you at the nickname.

“So tight,” he groans, head dropping until it’s touching your chest, forehead against your collar. “You feel so good.”

He only lasts a few thrusts like this, the clench of your thighs making him groan so loud it nearly echoes. For a moment, you have the fleeting thought that someone might see you, might catch you like this, but it’s quickly pushed from your mind when Javi yanks at your shirt, buttons popping, and closes his lips around your nipple.

Scraping his teeth before the touch disappears, he tilts sideways, landing on his side behind you in the grass, still buried in you. A hand curls around your waist, one sliding beneath you, splaying flat on your belly. He pulls you back into him, rocking his hips every time your ass meets his stomach. Your fingers claw at the ground, dirt beneath your fingernails, but you’re too blind with pleasure to give a damn. You’re so close, teetering on that edge, and you can feel yourself start to topple as Javier curls a hand around your throat, arching your back until you can just see his face, as twisted with pleasure as your own.

“Let me feel you, baby,” he groans, thumb swiping along your neck, making your gasp crackle on the way out. Your eyes flutter and he grins. “There you are. C’mon, squeeze me, just like that.”

You push yourself back onto him as you cum, thighs quaking as the orgasm topples through your body like dominoes. Javier holds you through it, still gripping your throat and pulling you tight against his chest. He’s quick to follow, mouth at your ear as he spills himself deep, teeth closing around your earlobe.

And then it starts to rain.

You’re both panting as the drops start to fall, fat raindrops the size of your thumbnail pouring from the sky in an instant. Spent, you barely have the strength to move, tilting your face towards the sky, giggling as the rain wets your cheeks. Javi hums happily, hips staying flush against you, still nestled deep within your walls.

He slides his arm beneath your neck, hand moving from your throat to your jaw, long fingers turning your face towards him.

He kisses you soft and slow until the rain lets up and the clouds start to part, rolling across the sky and giving way to the starry-filled night. You lose track of time there in the grass, your bodies damp with rainwater, skin marked with your release and his, minds no longer hazy and hearts full.

—————

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[arhvste]

002 SAKUSA KIYOOMI X SHUT UP AND DRIVE SERIES

++ MSBY GARAGE

❝ get you where you wanna go, if you know what i mean, got a ride that’s smoother than a limousine ❞

dt — @omisluvr i hope you like this, i had a lot of fun writing about you and your husband <3

warnings — nsfw : oral [recieving]

“what the fuck were you even thinking when you said yes to him anyway?”

sakusa pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood in the doorway of his high rise apartment. you were looking up at him, eyes glossy and hair drenched. your skin soaked not just from the rain, but from the fresh, hot tears that had run down your face as your hands scrunched the hem of your soaking sweater, the material quickly growing uncomfortable to wear.

the outside hitter sighed before stepping out the way to let you in.

“stay there.” his deep voice rang through your ears as he left to grab you a fresh towel to use.

you stood there, glancing around the sleek apartment as the city lights from down below leaked softly through the windows emitting a soft glow around the room. moments later, you heard footsteps approach as your eyes flickered over to the hallway.

sakusa strode over to you, handsome features highlighted and sharpened under the dim lights. sticking his hand out, he dropped the plush white towel into your awaiting arms as a plastic bag. you looked up at him confused regarding the bag, but before you could ask, he cut straight in.

“strip.”

“excuse me?” you choked out as you stared at the man in disbelief.

“you’re excused.” he muttered bluntly as you wiped your face with the warm towel. “you’re all wet. strip here and go shower and then we’ll talk.” he finished as he turned to leave you standing, dripping wet on the doormat of the entrance.

sakusa walked down the hall towards the bathroom and began to run the hot water and ensure the vents were working for you. having him out of sight, you sniffled and began to peel the wet clothing off your body and toss it into the plastic bag you’d dropped onto the floor. after stripping bare, you wrapped the inviting towel around your cold body and padded towards the bathroom. sakusa had left the light on and had already heated the water for you to prevent any time wasted.

you dropped the plastic bag on top of the white wicker laundry basket and stepped into the wet room style shower. the cool tiles beneath your feet caused shivers to run through your body as you turned the tap on for hot water to flow out.

as a fresh wave of hot water flooded down you, so did a fresh set of hot tears. you did your best to hold back the sobs you’d been keeping in, but it was all too much now.

‘better get it out now before talking.’ you thought as you let the tears flow freely down your face.

luckily, sakusa kept an array of various shower products so you knew you wouldn't have to come out the shower smelling like a six foot plus man who’d had a shower at the gym. after knowing sakusa for so many years, you knew he was picky about his products and you were eternally grateful for his favoured and toned-down scent of ‘ocean waves’.

lathering the soap across every inch of your now warming skin, your sobs slowed down and your breathing less jagged. your chest still hurt, but whether that was your crying causing chest ache or your now-ex causing heart break, you didn’t care anymore. you saw the end of your already deteriorating relationship approaching from a mile away anyway. if anything, you were partially thankful it had come crashing down, ending the anticipation that kept you on edge everyday. you just didn’t think it would actually hurt.

rinsing the soap off and feeling a bit better, you stepped away from the shower head as the water came to a halt. grabbing the fresh towel sakusa had left waiting for you on the radiator, you dried yourself as much as you could before wrapping the towel tightly around your body and stepping out the steaming room.

wandering through the dim hallway, you peeped into sakusa’s room as he scrolled through his phone, slouched on the king sized bed adorned with a firm, but certainly luxury mattress.

you knocked gently as his eyes snapped up at you. his expression still agitated looked, but softening at the sight of you.

“i don't have any spare clothes.” you murmured quietly, stepping into his clean and immaculately kept room.

he hummed before getting off the bed and rummaging through his own drawers. you stood there glancing around all of his medals and trophies won from years of playing in highschool and now pro. you had been present when he had won multiple of these awards. you happened to be one of the lucky few allowed close to sakusa. yes, you had known each other from a young age, but sakusa was ruthless in the sense of cutting people off; you had been someone exempt from that treatment though.

after a few moments, sakusa grunted with a pair of sweats in his hand as he looked down at your damp form.

you were taken aback slightly because despite sakusa slowly becoming more comfortable with personal boundaries, particularly in the recent years, you still grew slightly shocked everytime he willingly loaned you something of his own.

“thanks.” you whispered as you took the dry clothes and headed over to his en suite bathroom.

locking the door behind you, you quickly threw the sweats on and inhaled the natural scent that had rubbed off onto the clothes. sakusa smelt expensive in your opinion. yes, it was his natural scent, but anyone could tell he was a man of serious selfcare just from the scent of his clothes alone.

satisfied with your dry attire, you hung the towel on the radiator before switching off the light and stepping back into sakusa’s bedroom.

the sweats were definitely too big for you, but he had done his best to find one of his older sets in hopes of them perhaps fitting you a little more and for the sake of his own comfort knowing you weren’t wearing any clothes he’d regularly wear and fear catching too many external germs onto. you smiled weakly at him upon catching eye contact as he sighed and patted beside him on the bed.

staying close friends with the germaphobe had definitely benefited you as you had only grown closer to the pro-volleyballer over the years, allowing the two of you to naturally grow physically closer too. there’s not a lot of people in the world sakusa would’ve allowed for them to shower, wear his clothes and especially not sit on his bed, but once again, you were exempt from that, you always were; and he knew why.

“so,” he began, cutting through the thick tension lingering. “what happened exactly.”

always so straight to the point. maybe running to sakusa immediately wasn't the best choice.

“he cheated.” you spoke dryly as sakusa’s frown grew deeper.

“explain.” he pressed as you felt your chest increasingly tighten.

“i showed up to his house and-” your eyes watered as tears began to spill out. opening your mouth to continue, you struggled as no noise came out. scrunching your eyes up in frustration, you sobbed once more but stopped as you felt a warm hand take in your own.

you looked up through blurred vision as sakusa had a firm, but sincere look on his face. tightening his grip slightly on your hand, you shakily breathed out before continuing.

“the door was unlocked, i went in and i saw.”

“saw what?”

“her. the girl he told me not to worry about. the one he promised me was nothing more than a friend.”

sakusa scoffed as you sighed warily, tears dripping down your chin.

“they were um- you know-”

“-having sex. yes, i get the idea.” sakusa quipped as your heart dropped.

“um, yeah. i just left and well, here i am.” you laughed bitterly, face wet once more and vision blurred.

“what a fucking loser.” sakusa spat out bitterly as you hung your head low.

“i don't even know why you said yes to him. what the hell does he even have going for him? tell me what exactly it is that he brings to the table, i’ve been dying to know.”

you looked up as sakusa’s hand held yours tightly.

sakusa looked almost as hurt as you did. you quickly put that idea to bed and assumed it was natural protectiveness. he was your best friend after all. you just didn’t know just how badly he had wanted more than that though.

“he was just- he was just there i guess. someone for me to date. maybe i was just lonely, i don’t know. i, fuck- i dont know omi! i dont fucking know anymore!” you sobbed as sakusa’s eyes softened.

“well. what are you gonna do now?” he spoke sharply, eyes fixated on you.

“nothing i guess. i’ll get over it, i knew it was bound to end anyway.”

“and running to me was your first option?”

“are you really that surprised? i just didn’t know who else to go to.”

sakusa sighed before standing up and urging you to stand up with him.

“where are we going?” you asked, begrudgingly standing up beside his toned form.

“to take you out. i’m not having you soak my sheets with tears caused by a loser.”

“but i’m not dressed for that!” “we’re staying in the car for the most part.” he confirmed, notioning for you to follow him back to the front door where his car keys were left.

you sighed but followed suit as sakusa grabbed one of his own sweaters to put on. looking back at you, sakusa noticed your down expression as his own heart tugged slightly. he could only hope you’d perk up by the time he’d taken you to where he intended. he almost felt bad. almost.

you huffed but followed sakusa out the apartment behind him and waited as he locked the door swiftly behind him. trailing sadly behind him towards the elevator, sakusa watched as your miserable state wallowed in sadness behind him.

waiting for you to get over the damage caused seemed pointless in his opinion. ever the efficient one, sakusa knew exactly how he wanted to go about getting you over your ex faster. he could only hope you’d cooperate with him.

the ride in the elevator with the occasional sniffle from you occupying the majority of the silence. at last, the elevator had reached below ground level and into the underground parking lot for residents to use.

you followed the man out the elevator and stayed close to him and the two of you headed over to sakusa’s reserved parking space. you heart picked up slightly upon locking your eyes onto sakusa’s car.

a matte black aston martin DB11 was parked perfectly into its designated space. the tinted windows showed you back your own reflection as you were met with the sight of your downcast face. brushing stray strands of hair out of your face, you sighed and waited for sakusa to unlock the car for you to get in.

to you, getting into the pro players car was no big deal, you were simply getting into a friends car for a casual outing. to anyone else, this would’ve been a huge deal though. nobody was allowed in sakusa kiyoomi’s car. he denied requests to drop off and pick up others and even teammates. the only exceptions from this rule were yourself and komori. nobody else.

sakusa unlocked the car and you clicked the door open on the passenger side. immediately, your nose was met with the heavy scent of air freshener and leather. the clean and polished interior never failed to impress you every time you rode with sakusa.

the outside hitter climbed into his own seat before shutting his door and waiting for you to shut your own. the leather of the seat cool under your sweats. shivers ran up your spin and the cold temperature car started up at the press of a button.

“strap in.” sakusa glanced over at you before fastening his own seatbelt and looking into the mirror to back the car up safely.

“hold still for a sec.” sakusa muttered as you felt his hand land on your shoulder as he looked back. his body close to yours, sakusa swiftly swung the car out his space as your breath hitched. why the hell did he have to get so close?

“you could’ve held the back of my seat.” you looked over at him as he revved the engine ready to speed out the exit.

“yeah you’re right, i could’ve. i just didn’t want to.” and with that, sakusa hit the acceleration and the car sped out the clear exit at high speed.

your head was thrown back and your heart fluttered at his words but you kept quiet as you tried to calm your nerves. sakusa however, looked like he was out to kill. you were just thankful the roads were clear in the late night.

his jaw tense and eyes sharp, sakusa made no mistakes as he swerved in and out of lanes so cleanly, leaving other drivers with no reason to complain.

“where are we even going?” you spoke up meekly as the man beside you pulled up at a red light. clicking his tongue in annoyance of the hold up, sakusa tilted his head to face you, his wavy mop of hair flopping back as his salient eyes met your own, throwing your heart off course.

“you’ll see.” was all he said as the light flashed amber. head snapping back to the front, sakusa revved his engine once more, hands both tightly gripped the finely stitched leather of the wheel. prominent veins running down the back of his hand, sakusa flexed his fingers before gripping the wheel once more and slamming back down on the accelerator throwing your head back into the headrest for the second time of the night.

if looks could kill, you were certain any driver in your best friends field of vision would’ve been dead at least two times over. you had no idea why he was so angry, but you’d be lying if you said you didn't find him at least slightly attractive. you just couldn't bring yourself to fully admit it though. you were fresh out of an awful break up and the heartache was still there even if sakusa was capable of effortlessly throwing you into a fit of excitement.  

you gazed out the window as the car sped along the highway as pulled off the main roads and into the more separated streets. you paid no attention to where it was you were going until a wave of familiarity washed over you. your stomach tightened and your eyes flashed in fear as you quickly turned to see sakusa as focused as before, pulling into a parking space resided along the street of houses next to it.

“what the fuck kiyoomi! why are we here”

“where else would i take you?”

“oh i don't know, 7-11 maybe?!” you huffed as sakusa scrunched his face in disgust.

“that’s not going to help you get over him. this will.”

sakusa nodded towards the houses outside. more specifically, your ex's house.

“i can’t do this, i don’t need this.”

“you can and you want to don’t you?

you stared at him in disbelief as you shook your head.

“not like this, not now.”

“look at me.” sakusa demanded as his hand reached up to cup the side of your face, pulling your gaze directly onto his face.

“he’s a fucking loser. you’ve cried over him enough already and i just can’t sympathise with you anymore, show him that he fucked up.”

you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. once again, shaking your head, you pulled away from sakusa’s grip as he stared at you confused.

“how? how can i just confront him in this state? you don't understand omi! it still hurts, and i can’t just-”

“-it hurt me too. this whole time it hurt.” sakusa cut in swiftly.

“ever since you said yes to him, i couldn’t understand why it hurt until recently. maybe i should’ve been happy for you. i just couldn’t though. i don’t like him, i never did and you know what? he didn’t deserve you, but i think i do.” he confessed, expression sincere and voice clear and sharp.

“kiyoomi i-”

“-don’t answer me now. it’s not fair of me to just throw something like that at you, i’m sorry but i’m also really not. i’ve been waiting to say this. just please, don’t let yourself fall off over someone like him okay?” he turned away, one hand still firmly gripping the wheel as his other hand reached to start the engine again to drive you both back. your hand intercepted though, stopping him from starting the ignition.  

“you’re right, i’m sorry. i promise i won’t so, let me prove it to you.” sakusa turned to face you and raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of attitude.

“i don’t want to cry anymore. not over him, not when i knew it was approaching sooner or later.” you admitted looking up at him. eyes glinting under the dim lights the streetlights provided through the tinted windows.

“then don’t let him make you cry anymore.” sakusa breathed out, voice taking on a soft tone.

“i’m relying on you to keep me in check then.” you whispered slowly leaning into him and letting him meet you halfway.

“well, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” his final words muttered out as his slender fingers ran under your jawline as he tilted his head up to meet his own. eyes fluttering shut, sakusa mentally thanked whoever the fuck was looking out for him, because he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he’d ever care to admit.

pressing his lips onto your own, sakusa’s heart ran laps as you gasped at the feeling his hands gripping your jaw tighter. humming in satisfaction, he deepened the quickly escalating kiss as he pulled you closer and closer to him. god, he just couldn't have you close enough to him.

sliding his hand down to your thighs, sakusa felt the way you had them tightly pressed together as the slow and languid kiss quickly heated with each whine he drew from your lips. growing greedy to hear more, sakusa dominated the kiss completely, teeth scraping along your bottom lip ever so gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your throat. with your lips slightly parted, sakusa slipped his tongue into your mouth groaning at your responsiveness to his actions.

pulling away, he left you gasping but gave you no time to catch your breath as his lips strayed from your own and you felt his hot breath teasing the warm skin of your neck. not wasting another moment, sakusa let his canines dance along your sensitive skin, teasing you and leaving you unaware of his every next move. finally, letting his teeth drag along your collarbone for so long, sakusa kissed, sucked and bit everywhere he had access too. he needed to mark you as his. it would give him enough mental confirmation that you were finally his and you seemed to have no obligation to this in the slightest.

“omi, i can’t-” you whined, frustration building up as the clothes you were wearing now became more and more of a bother.

“i got you princex.” sakusa grunted, shifting his body away ever so slightly.

“please!” you groaned, glaring at the now smirking man.

“whatever happened to ‘i can’t do this’?” he mocked relishing in the control he had over you.

“i didn’t think you meant this!” you whined as sakusa pulled himself off of you momentarily. looking down at your hot and bothered state he felt a wave of pride hit. he did that to you.

“backseat.” he demanded notioning behind him.

“what?” you breathed out.

“you heard. backseat.” you grumbled but obliged regardless, climbing into the backseats of the luxury car. sakusa followed suit and hovered over your aching body as you rested your head against the doors tinted window, waiting for sakusa to do something, anything.

“so obedient.” he sighed trailing his fingers along the waistband of the already loose sweats, hands slowly slipping under the material, tugging them off painfully slow, much to your impatience.

your breathing stuttered as the man pressed a soft trail of kisses along your now exposed thighs, the temperature of the car only increasing as the air got thicker and thicker.

“please.” you whispered as his kisses met the ache between your legs.

eyes lustfully looking up at you, sakusa smiled against the skin of your inner thigh, breath hitting dangerously close to where you needed his attention the most.

“since you asked so nicely.” he praised, fingers hooking under the thin waistband of your soaked through panties. pulling them down, his eyes flickered up to meet your own. a look of sincerity glinted in his eyes as you nodded at him, permitting him to grant what you both wanted, what you both needed. you wanted this as much as he did and he’d be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this. the opportunity to show you what you could’ve had from the start, none of that mattered now though. you could his now, he’d make up for all the time lost, starting with now.

gasping at the sudden feeling of his tongue dipping into your slit, sakusa’s confidence only built up knowing you were comfortable with this. the warmth of his tongue causing you squeeze your eyes shut as shivers ran up and down your spine. fully trusting himself now, sakusa worked his mouth on your clit, hungrily chasing the desperate pleads ands gasps he’d quickly grown attached to. he needed to draw more of these out of you and he’d do just that.

toying with your clit with his tongue, sakusa groaned at the feeling of your hands quickly grabbing the base of his hair, tugging him closer and closer in desperate attempts to get him to go deeper. he made it his aim to get you just as hooked onto the feeling of intimacy as he was and you seemed to be following suit perfectly.

“k-kiyoomi!” you gasped, tugging harder at the dark strands tightly gripped between your fingers. his eyes flashed up at you, an almost unreadable expression shown as he pulled away momentarily. “you’re so beautiful you know,” he sighed before moving his mouth back down to your twitching core “so fucking beautiful.” he praised as he glanced up to memorize each pleasured expression that twisted across your face. he felt so proud knowing he was the one doing this to you, only he could make your eyes roll back the way he did, only he could draw out those pretty sounds that escaped your lips. he knew he was the only one capable because he knew he was always the better choice for you, he was better than your ex in every single way and he was just relieved he was finally getting the chance to prove it to yourself.

completely encasing your core between his lips once more, he swallowed everything you gave him so selfishly, refusing to let anything go to waste and spill onto the seats, it’s not like he could let anything go to waste anyway, not when you tasted this fucking good and certainly not when you were in his clean car.

“o-omi, more!” you chanted as sakusa grunted as you felt the knot inside of you progressively tighten. firm fingers gripping your hips, sakusa curled his tongue inside of you making sure to lap up everything he got out of you. you whined and chanted sakusa’s name like a mantra as he continued to worship your body with his mouth.

“please, please, please!” you recited desperately over and over again as you felt yourself closer to the edge.

“so good for me.” sakusa praised pulling away and loosening his grip on you, your arousal coating his chin. keeping one hand firmly gripped onto your waist, he moved his other hand down for his fingers to pinch and toy with the bud as his tongue quickly dipped back into your tight pussy as you felt your high quickly chase up on you.

“f-fuck!” you cried out as you felt your back arch as the ecstasy crashed down on you. his actions didn’t stop though, as his thumb continued to circle your clit with slow but firm movements only further forcing your mind to go blank. mindless babbles dribbled out your mouth as you slowly came down from your peak, sakusa continued to let every drop of arousal spill into his mouth before he pulled away panting.

face flushed, but satisfied, he caught his own breath and waited for you to fully come back to your senses. your own breathing once again jagged, you looked up at him shyly as you leaned forward to rest your head against his.

“s-shit, i didn’t think it would go this far.” sakusa admitted, grabbing a tissue from the side compartment to wipe his face. a look of disgust flashed momentarily on his face when he saw the mess on the tissue, but silently praising himself for keeping his car free from any spills onto the plush leather seats.

you laughed breathily before fluttering your eyes shut.

“i knew coming to see you was a good idea.”

“you didn’t know this was going to happen, fuck, i didn’t even know this was going to happen. i only brought you here to confront him.” the dark haired male sighed before pulling away from you.

the two of you stayed like that for a few moments, a comfortable silence lingering in the compressed air of the car. you hadn’t verbally confirmed it yet, but sakusa knew from this moment onwards you were finally his. a blissful feeling bubbled up inside of him as he processed what had just happened.

suddenly, a loud tap on the window caused the two of you to jolt in shock as you instinctively gripped the hem of the disregarded sweats in attempts to cover your exposed body. leaning over to the front drivers seat, sakusa peered at the window and was met with the furious face of your ex. scoffing, he slid into the driver's seat and let the window roll down to come face to face with the man you called your boyfriend several hours prior to what had just happened.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ex spat in anger as sakusa glared back equally as bitter.

“enjoying myself.” sakusa boredly stated as your ex’s face twisted into an expression of horror upon noticing you climbing back over to the front passenger seat with your clothes now back on, but appearance definitely disheveled.

“with that bitch?” the man outside of the car hissed as sakusa blocked his view.

“first of all, that so-called bitch? mine now, should’ve been from the start actually and secondly, get your disgusting presence away from my car, i’ve already had it deep cleaned this week and thanks to you, it’s gonna have to go back to be cleaned thoroughly again.”

your ex scoffed before backing up slightly.

“whatever, get the fuck out of my parking space though, and you,” he started past sakusa and directly into your eyes. “this makes you just as bad as me now so get off your high-horse.”

“actually,” you spoke up, hand resting on sakusa’s forearm to calm his peaking rage. “it doesn’t. kiyoomi was just a friend throughout the entirety of our relationship, he should’ve been the one to have been more than that though. it was never you.” you spoke briskly and cooly as sakusa smirked beside you.

before your ex could even open his mouth, sakusa let the windows slam but up before pressing the ignition.

“let’s just get out of here, you’re tired and it’s been a long day for you.” he offered a small smile as you nodded. outside, your ex was still yelling and begging for answers as the two of you took no notice. firing the engine back up, sakusa didn’t bother looking back before slamming onto the acceleration and speeding the two of you back through the streets and onto the main highway to take you back to his apartment where the two of you had things to talk about.

there was a lot lingering in the both of your minds, but you were certain the two of you were finally on the same page.

sakusa was upset you were hurt, but it didn’t matter now. you were his and over time, he’d help build you back up again, hand in hand, he wanted to put the time and effort into you that he had been wanting to do from the very start.

there weren’t a lot of people sakusa kiyoomi allowed close to him, would go out of his way for, would even care about for that matter, but as always, each and every time, you were exempt from that.

++ TAGLIST! @crescenttooru @miss-angel-ash @sarahvvictoria @babierin @omisluvr @s0utien @toobsessedsstuff @omibaby @kenkodzu @sugabeaniee @lovesunas @slutawara @bunny-on-crack @shouyouorange @memorableminds @whootwhoot @yikes-buddy @sweetsamus

[beigehearts]

Yandere adult trio: college AU These are drabbles for when they lose their mind and kill the people around you... and kidnaps you

These are going to be a little longer than usual but I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it (also im trying out the beta version of the new posting system so lemme know if anything is weird)

Sorry this took me forever bro

CW: murder, blood, physical abuse, alcohol

Hisoka

It's getting quite annoying to be completely honest. He just won't leave you alone, constantly flirting and making passes at you. And yet at the same time he makes fun of you and is actually very mean. It wasn't so bad in the beginning but this is just getting out of hand. You made sure he was aware of this. ---- He's looming over you as he corners you against the wall. You refuse to look up at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

While you aren't looking at him, you can feel him looking at you. You already know he has that annoying grin on his face that makes you want to punch him square in the nose.

He brushes his long fingers against your face, making a quiet humming noise. "Are you ready to give up my pet?"

You ignore his words and slap his hand away from your face. "I need to get to class, move Hisoka."

He frowns though you aren't looking at his face. He opens his mouth to say something when someone from behind him calls out to you. "Hey y/n! Are you okay?"

She walks towards you but before she can get involved you shove the man away and huff. What a nuisance. You turn towards him once you're standing next to your friend and glare at him.

"Leave me alone. It's annoying and it's scaring people. Got it?" Before he can respond you turn on your heels and drag your friend down the hall by her wrist just hoping to put distance between the two of you. ---- You're pretty sure you made it clear that you don't want him near you anymore. But by now you know he doesn't give up so easily. One can only hope that he gets bored of you and finds someone else to bother.

You and your friends went out for brunch earlier, and all was well until Chelsea handed you something. She said that she found it in her bag but it was addressed to you, so you put it in your own bag.

You pour yourself a rum and coke and make yourself comfortable on the couch of your shared apartment. All of your roommates went out for drinks but you were too tired to go out.

After taking a sip of the sweet liquid in your glass, you examine the letter you were given earlier. It's a typical white envelope with your name written in pen. There's no address on it or return address so you assume it was just supposed to be handed to you.

You rip open the letter with your finger and pull out the singular loose leaf paper. It's folded in three sections so you pull it open. The handwriting is messy but in an aesthetic sort of way.

Dear y/n, I strongly suggest that you go to class 406B in the technical building tonight. Don't be late or you'll miss the whole party. 10:45 pm - see you then. I almost forgot, if you don't come I have some revealing pictures of you that I can share with anyone I wish to. XOXO

This is the strangest letter you've ever received. It's probably a prank by one of your roommates or friends. You've never sent nudes to anyone so obviously they're bluffing.

Though perhaps you should entertain your friends and go. Who knows, maybe there will be drinks. But you are tired... Maybe you'll just go to bed. You peek over to the time on your phone, it's 9:12 pm. Yeah, you'll just go to bed after you finish your drink.

'bzz' 'bzzz'

Who is texting you so late at night? You sit up and realize you fell asleep on the couch. You wipe the drool off of your face and grab your phone with distain for whoever woke you up.

It's a blocked number.

ur late

Late? Late for what? Your phone displays the time, 11:27 pm. Are your friends really this committed to their prank? They must be trying to get Tik Tok famous or some shit. Well you're awake now, you might as well head over there.

----

The moment you step into the building something seems off. If all of the lights including the emergency lights wasn't enough, the ground seems sticky. Though you can't bring yourself to use your phone flash light to see what it is.

Eventually you find the room 406B in the darkness. The door is closed and no lights are on in the room. It seems as if no one is inside. As you reach for the handle of the door, you notice something on the window of the door. You can barely make it out, but there's what looks like a hand print. You chuckle, this must be a prank.

Now feeling a little better, you open the door and step inside. It's too dark to see anything but you can make out some figures in the dark. It must be your friends thinking they're being sneaky.

You roll your eyes and look for the light switch, finding it and switching it on. You squint at the sudden light, and your eyes begin to focus. Which you wish they never did.

There is blood everywhere, on the ceiling, the windows, the floor, the tables... But that's not the most jarring part. Your friends are sitting in chairs, one of them sitting on the ground against the wall.

There is your friend Chelsea, sitting in a chair with her head tipped down. You can't even tell what color her clothes originally were, they're covered in red, a dark dark red. Next to her is Derick, he's sitting the same way except his head is tipped backwards. His eyes are wide and his face is left in permanent horror- expressing the brutality of his end. You can't bare to look anymore, you drop to your knees and cover your face with your hands.

You scream and scream until your voice is hoarse and throat is raw. You're left coughing while you are drowned by your own tears.

"Are you ready to give up yet?" A deep voice asks from in front of you.

You can't stop the flow of tears as you look up at this monster. He's also covered in blood, and some is splattered on his face. He wipes a thumb across his face in the blood, and brings it to his lips. Sobs rack your body, you can't even make sense of this.

Hisoka squats down so you're face to face and grips your jaw bone tightly in his hand. You can feel the now cold substance being rubbed against your jaw by his fingers and it makes you want to puke.

"I got tired of waiting for you." His grin is nauseating, forcing you to stop yourself from puking.

His nails dig into your skin, mixing your own blood with that of your friend's. He brings his face close to yours and in a gentle but menacing tone he croaks, "Let's stop this childish game, alright y/n?"

Illumi

It's easy to miss things when you're caught up with the rush of classes and friends and love. All of the parties and hangovers are enough to satisfy your needs for entertainment and drama in this boring life. If you didn't fill up your daily life with these acts, you would probably sleep every day away until you fell into a coma.

To put it short, you're a busy body. And busy bodies don't have time to stop and look around at what is happening. For example, how were you to notice the key under your doormat was missing, or how your dresser drawers were left slightly open when you know you closed them before leaving. Noticing these small things are definitely not on your agenda.

It's 10 am, Saturday, and you don't have any classes or work today. You're sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and chatting with your roommate. It isn't often that you have a free day, and sometimes it is nice to have even if you want to get moving. The sun is peeking through the curtains and the aroma of espresso beans is a delight. It's a bit chilly so you have a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. What a peaceful morn-

'BANG BANG'

Your roommate eyes you when someone bangs on the front door, already knowing the events that are about to take place. She rolls her eyes and stomps up the stairs to her room, not wanting to get involved. You always feel bad that your roommates have to listen to this but you're really not sure how to end it.

You take your last peaceful sip of coffee and call out, "Come in!"

Before you can even finish your sentence, he storms inside and slams the door behind him. Your boyfriend of course is mad about something you've done. He trudges towards you and moves the stool next to you out of the way, and leans towards you so his face is next to yours.

"Are you kidding me y/n?!" He yells in your ear, but you don't flinch because you're used to this.

He rips his phone from his pocket and shoves it in your face after pulling up a screenshot. It's a conversation between you and his friend.

"Can't you learn to shut your damn mouth? This is our business and you have no right to tell anyone about it!" He's practically seething with rage.

You take a last sip of coffee and set your mug down on the counter. You continue facing forward and not facing him. "It's not our business, it's yours. And I asked him if it was true that you were cheating on me." You turn your head towards him while grimacing and mutter, "Again."

Ah but you've just lighted a bomb with your words.

His face has gone red and he looks like he's about to explode. You begin wondering why you were ever attracted to him.

"Maybe if you weren't such a prude! I can't even kiss my girlfriend whenever I want, it's ridiculous. You know full well that you're so... so... Ugh! You know what? Fuck you!"

As quickly as he came, he runs out of the house, slamming the door once again.

You whisper to yourself, "Fuck you too."

God he's such a child, you don't even want to be with him anymore. But every time you decide to break up with him he suddenly becomes Mr.Perfect. "I'm so sorry." "I love you." "Let me make it up to you." And then he does make it up to you only to tear down all of his hard work.

----

It's been a few days since your big fight with your boyfriend. He hasn't talked to you at all but this isn't uncommon for him. You promised your roommates that you would break up with him, not just for yourself but for the sake of their peace and quiet.

You texted him a few times while you were at work but he left you on read. He's so petty. So you text him one last time.

Come 2 my place at 8 tonight, We need to talk

He answers immediately which surprises you.

Can't, flat tire Come to my place

It doesn't make a difference to you where it is so that's fine. You wonder if maybe he's come to terms with the fact this needs to end. Hopefully so. If there's one thing you want him to be mature about, it's this.

Your shift ends at 6:30pm. You drive home, shower, get dressed, eat something and get ready to leave.

You send one last text,

OMW

It's read immediately but there's no response. Well, it's not like you expected much from him anyway. You drive to his house at 7:45 pm, and arrive around 7:58 pm. All of the lights in his town house are on. He's a few years older than you so he has his own house due to somehow being able to hold down a job. With his anger issues it's hard to believe that he can hold onto anything. Damn, he really is an unattractive person isn't he?

You step out of your car and lock it. Now that you're out of the car you realize that it's very quiet. This is unusual for when you go to his house, normally you can hear music or the sound affects of a shitty video game. But it's silent. Maybe he's waiting for you? He must be taking this well.

You step up the creaky stairs of the house, and knock on the equally as creaky door. No response. Maybe he's sleeping? You peek into the mail box and take out the extra key for the house from it. But when you go to unlock the door, it's already unlocked. This is becoming very strange.

You push open the door and peer into the dark living room. It's not too dark that you can't make out the furniture in the darkness. You step inside and shut the door behind you, it's still quiet. Not quiet, absolutely and undeniably silent. You flick the light on and look around again, nothing seems out of place. It's messy, with empty beer cans and bottles on the ground per usual. The stains on his carpet remain untouched, including the vomit stain in the corner.

"Jay?" You call out into the still atmosphere. Nothing. Is he not home? That can't be, his car is in the driveway.

The sound of his old floor boards being stepped on echoes through the house. What the hell is he trying to pull? You look up the stairs, but it's only darker up there than it was down here. He must be drunk.

Each step you take up the stairs, your heart begins to pound faster. Something feels off, this doesn't feel right. This isn't like your boyfriend, he's simple, he wouldn't try scaring you like this. On the top step, you feel your shoe touch something soft. You lean down and pick it up, and raise it up to your face. A pair of thongs that definitely aren't yours. So that's what's happening. He couldn't even pull himself together for one night.

Your pounding heart is no longer caused by fear but anger. He's cheated too many times to count on your hands, but this time makes you angrier than you've ever been. He's never been in bed with another woman knowing that you were coming over. This is fucking ridiculous.

You stomp towards his room and kick the door open. It's dark but you can tell that there are two people in bed. Your vision has gone red, you've never been this angry in your life.

You don't bother turning the lights on, you storm over to his side of the bed and rip the covers off. Just barely you can make out a woman sleeping next to him. You grab his shoulder tightly and shake him violently to wake him up.

"Get the fuck up Jay! Get! Up!" He doesn't respond, you lean down and yell in his ear like he always does to you. "You're such a childish piece of shit!"

He still doesn't move or speak, for fuck's sake. You stomp back to the entrance of the room and flick on the light. You turn around and begin walking back towards the bed, when you're stopped in your tracks.

Everything is red, but it's not your vision anymore. The bed has been dyed red, and his naked body is covered in it. Your mouths falls open but no screams come out. The woman next to him is splayed out on the bed, naked as well. Covered in red. You look down at the hands that touched your boyfriend, they're also red.

You rush over to the bed and shake your boyfriend again.

"Jay? Jay! Can you hear me?" You put your ear to his chest but you don't hear anything. You put your finger under his nose but don't feel anything.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up! This isn't funny!" Tears stream down your face as you pull him to your chest, cradling him.

Your sobs make it hard to speak and your chest begins to hurt. "J-... Jay... This- isn't-" You gasp between each word, "Funny..."

It's only when you hear a noise coming from behind you that you stop to think about what's going on. It doesn't matter to you though, they could kill you too if they wished.

"People are strange." You turn your head to see where the voice is coming from.

It's someone you don't recognize, he's tall, pale, has long hair, and hypnotizing eyes. Your sobs cease for a moment and you hug your boyfriend tighter to you.

"All of that fighting... You were even coming here to break up with him and yet... You're sad that he's gone?" He makes his way towards you slowly, "I've done you a favor, haven't I?"

He looms over you but all you can do is stand there, frozen by fear.

The man grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you violently from Jay. You try to run back to him, but the man pulls you to him, hugging you tightly. No matter how much you flail in his grasp you can't get away from him. You're left sobbing into his shirt, your body limp in his arms.

"Why?" You manage to whisper.

He holds you to him with one arm and pets your hair with his other hand. "You were miserable. He was making you miserable."

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. What is going on?

"Come on, don't waste your energy on human garbage. I'm here, so it's fine." He states it so 'matter of fact'.

"Who?" Is all you can ask, unable to finish your question.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. Illumi is my name." With ease, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts your face up to his. "Your future husband."

Chrollo

What more could you ask for? You already have easy college classes, fun parties, a good part time job, great friends, and an amazing best friend. Tonight you're going to hang out with a bunch of friends and have drinks at one of their apartments. It's a pretty normal Thursday night, nothing odd about it.

You're waiting for your best friend to pick you up, he's always there to pick you up on the dot. If he doesn't come early that is. You shove all the essentials into your bag and hear a honk outside. Must be him.

But of course you're always tardy. You lace up your shoes and run out of the dorm room, tripping out of the building. He's watching as you stumble towards the car since one of your shoes is already unlaced. When you finally flop down in the passenger seat he shakes his head with a knowing smile.

"Oh y/n, will you ever be organized?" He asks with amusement.

You click your tongue and straighten out your clothes, "Don't ask such stupid questions."

He turns his body towards you as much as possible and pats his lap. You instinctively know what that means. You hike your foot up above the console and put your foot on his lap. He begins tying your shoe, his smile is unmoving. He's always smiling.

"Chrollo, you don't need to baby me." You roll your eyes and groan.

He laughs and pats your leg, signaling that he's done. "If not me then who?"

You swing your leg back over to your side and buckle up. The two of you hang out a lot. Since you're both going to the hangout tonight, you decided to car pool. But first you're going to go get the alcohol. Everyone has to bring something for everyone, that way you guys can get wasted with no qualms.

You plug your phone into the aux and play your shared playlist. The first song that comes on is "The Cult of Dionysus" by The Orion Experience. Something that he added.

Finally you feel like you can relax, it always feels that way around Chrollo. His presence is just, comforting, in every way. You feel like you can do anything, say anything, ask for anything. He's always there for you with no exceptions and honestly you think you may have feelings for him. But it's a question of are you confusing comfort and friendly affection for romanticism. It's just that he's so perfect, he doesn't have a single flaw. Not one that you've ever seen at least. You probably never will see one of his flaws.

You sink into the seat and sigh.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looks back at the road. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing... Just, everything is good."

He knows you better than anyone, so it's an obvious lie when you say this. "But what?"

Anytime he calls you out, you surrender and tell him everything. "Everything is so great you know." He nods with your statement. "I go to a good school, have good friends, have a good job." This has been on your mind for quite some time.

"Something is missing, you know? The excitement, the... the..." You chuckle and turn towards him and put up jazz hands, "The pizzazz!"

He doesn't turn to look at you but you know he saw you when his smile widens. "I get that. Maybe you just need to step outside of your comfort zone. Do something different."

Do something different? Yeah, maybe that is what you need.

----

All eleven of you are sitting in a circle on the ground, drinking and playing never have I ever. You take a long drink of your Mike's hard lemonade, which is just something to get the night going.

Dina wipes hair from her face and smiles, "Okay okay my turn. So never have I ever.... Uhh." She pops up when she thinks of something, "Never have I ever jumped out of a window."

DJ leans forward and raises an eyebrow, "Okay what kind of window we talking? High up? First floor?"

Dina answers, "Any kind, any kind of window." The majority of you put a finger down which makes the group burst out in laughter.

Your friend Zoey finishes off her bottle and slams it down on the floor. "Let's play something else."

"Like what?" One of your friends ask.

Zoey thinks for a moment, "Like... Truth or dare, spin the bottle. Or maybe eleven minutes in heaven."

Dj interjects, "I think it's seven minutes in heaven, not eleven."

"Oh whatever DJ, they rhyme." Zoey spits back.

Lex answers, "Let's play seven minutes in heaven!"

Of course DJ huffs and rolls his eyes, "What are we? Middle schoolers?"

Guac (which is his nickname) speaks up, "Oh come on, are you shy DJ?"

Finally the quiet Chrollo sitting next to you says something, "I'm not really interested. Right y/n?" He looks at you to back him up.

The group coos at the two of you and someone says, "We get it, you got something going on. The game is just for fun, don't be so serious Chrollo."

Chrollo opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, "Hey, you told me to do something different. Maybe this is the first step."

His face shows betrayal and you feel a squeeze in your heart.

He stands up and glares at the group, "Whatever." He storms out of the apartment, and everyone mumbles to each other. Chrollo has never acted like this so this is quite a shock to everyone.

In order not to kill the mood you speak up, "Alright, let's pull names out of a hat!"

All of you write down your names on a small piece of paper and put it in a baseball cap. Dina pulls two names out of the hat and of course makes it a dramatic event.

"Alright so first we have the most lovely of people..." She looks at the group like a teacher waiting for an answer from her class. "Gracie!" Everyone claps and she stands up in front of all of you, taking a bow.

Dina pats her thighs rapidly, "Drum roll please!" Everyone obeys her, "The next hot piece of ass is y/n!"

You stand up and curtsey, taking Gracie's hand and leading her to the closet. Dina stands in front of the closet once both of you are inside and grins, "Timer starts now kids." She shuts the door on you two and all of your friends cheer from outside.

Here comes the awkward part. It's too dark to see her expression but you already know she's blushing.

You lean towards her and in a low voice so no one else can hear say, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She shakes her head, and you brush a hand through her dark coils. The both of you giggle when your finger gets stuck in her hair. She leans in for a kiss, but before your lips meet you're interrupted.

The front door is opened and slammed shut, you hear the lock click as well.

"Hey Chrollo, you feeling better?" "What are you doing?" "Holy shit, please, what are you doing?!" "Are you fucking crazy? This isn't funny!"

Something slams against the closet door and Gracie yelps.

"Whoa whoa, we can work something out." They sound desperate "Back up!" You hear a loud thump and then screams. "Grab him guys!" It sounds like people are running around, but soon the screams become not those of only fear but of pain. There are gargled pleas and pathetic whimpers for mercy.

You and Gracie hold each other, gripping onto one another for dear life.

Soon the screams, pleas, thuds, gurgling, all of it ends. The apartment goes quiet and you try to silence your heavy breathing.

There's a loud thud right in front of the closet and then the doors are opened abruptly. There Chrollo is, covered in blood, and you can see the bodies of your friends behind him. Before you can react, he pulls Gracie away from you, slams the doors closed and there's another thud.

Gracie's screams are blood curdling, screeches and cries for help. You try to open the doors but something is blocking it, keeping them closed. As her screams get louder you throw yourself against the doors, trying to push whatever is there out of the way.

Before you can even imagine of getting out, the screams fade out into whimpers, and into nothing.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You're given no time to think when the doors fly open and you're face to face with Chrollo. He's blocking out the light and his usually neat clothes are crumpled and bloody. You look down to his hands, a sledge hammer hangs from his fingers, dripping with your friend's blood.

"Ch-Chrollo... Please don't." You whisper.

The sledge hammer drops to the ground and he wraps his arms around you gently. "Oh y/n. I would never hurt you."

He's so gentle with you, so gentle. It almost makes you forget what just happened, because he feels like home. "Why? Why did you do this?"

He steps back and grabs your shoulders, he leans down so he's eye to eye with you. "They crossed a line, a line that should not be crossed."

You begin to speak but he grabs your cheeks with one hand and dawns his usual smile, "You don't need them. You have me." He kisses your squished lips as if it were normal. "Right y/n?"

Slowly you nod, you don't need them. If Chrollo says it, it must be true.

"Good girl."

[futurewriter2000]

If we are not this, then what are we? - pt. 15 - final part

A/N: Well, there it is. The final product. I haven’t read it through. I’m so tired- I’m so so tired.  I think I’m gonna make an epilogue as well to explain a bit further but ooh, am I tired. 

XX

Did you know that soulmates exist in all different shapes? You can find a soulmate in your lover, close friend, stranger, family, even in your own mother or father. 

Will was your soulmate. He was. He still is because even if your soulmate passes away, they can still stay in your life as a spiritual guide. 

Will told you that when he asked you if you believed in soulmates. 

You could remember the day so clearly; both of you were studying for Arithmancy test in his dorm. He was poking you all the time as you tried to concentrate on the material. When you sent him a glare and he was still smiling at you with his childish innocence, he asked you that question. When you told him that soulmates was a fairytale, he told you otherwise. 

He told you that day the two of you were soulmates and if he dies far in the future, he’ll stay by your side as your spritiual guide. He’ll be that angel on your shoulder, showing you the way, guiding you on the right path, being there when you’re in your worse and there when you’re at your best. 

You doubted him. 

‘ “How will I know?” you asked, quirking him an eyebrow.

“You will have to believe.” he winked, pulling himself on his elbows as he continued to see the disbelief you. “Okay- how about?” he got on his knees and looked around the room. He narrowed his eyes at his nightstand drawer and made his way to open it. It was messy, filled with papers and junk until he dug his hand into it, searched and pulled it out a small bronze key on a bronze chain. “See this?” he lifted it up in the air. 

“It’s a key.”

“It’s not just any key. It’s the key to my journal when I was like- six or seven.”

“UUU!” you reached to grab it but he quickly stepped back and started to laugh.

“I don’t know where the journal is- I think I threw it away because it was too cringey.” he continued to laugh. “But there were two keys for it. I gave one to Davie.”

“And you’re giving this one to me?” you wiggled your eyebrows, trying to reach again as he stepped back, holding up his index finger.

“Not quite.” he unclipped the necklace and put it around his neck, clipping it back until it hung around his neck. “Originally there were two keys- you know? In case if I lost one, which I did and now I have this one-”

“But you don’t have the journal?”

“Your point?”

“If you don’t have the journal, why keep the keys?”

“Aesthetic?” he shrugged and you laughed. “Anyways it isn’t about the journal. It’s about what I wrote in the journal. This key didn’t open just a book. It opened my thoughts and secrets-”

“What kind of secrets could you have at six years old?” you laughed, throwing yourself back on the pillows. 

“HEY!” 

“Dear diary, today I rang Mrs. Fotak’s doorbell and ran away. Living on the edge.” you joked and laughed as he stared at you, narrowing his eyes at your mocking.

“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” 

“I pretty much think so.” you continued to giggle. 

“It wasn’t a diary. IT WAS A JOURNAL.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you cleared your throat. “Dear journal, I farted today in kindergarten. Nobody noticed.” 

“You’re such an asshole.” he shook his head, unable to keep his laugh inside. 

“Still think I’m your soulmate.” 

“Oh, without a doubt.” ‘ 

You stood on the doormate as finally someone has opened the door. From your thoughts to reality, you were faced with two saddened grey eyes. “(y/n)!” he exclaimed, clearly surprised by your sudden appearance. “Wh- what are you doing here?” 

You forced a big smile on your face, lifting up the plate of baked goods you made today. “Hey, Sirius. Brought some carbs for you and the Potters.” you said as he invited you in, moving to the side and watching you with the quirk of his eyebrow. 

“You bake?” he asked, walking after you. Clearly, you knew the way to the kitchen. Despite in the years you haven’t stepped in this house, you still knew exactly where everything was. They didn’t change a thing. 

“Actually not so much. Just started- If I’m going to live in my own apartment and maybe a house some day, I need to get more culinary experiance.” you placed the plate on the counter and sat behind it. 

Sirius smiled, walking over and getting to the fridge. “Banana juice?” he pulled out the flask and your eyes lit out. 

How did he know? 

“James is obsessed with it.” he laughed as he poured it in the glass and brought it too you. “He said you introduced him to this heavinly beverage.” he winked, pouring himself a glass as well and sitting next to you. There was silence as he only continued to look at you, both hearing  only the crickets and the summer wind outside this house.  “Why are you really here, (y/n)?” he asked, bringing you the safety and comfort with his eyes. 

You could see now why James was friends with him. He really was a good man. 

“I really did not like to cook when I was a teen.” you smiled, tapping your fingers on the glass and watching the bubbles on the surface. “Will loved it.” you looked back up. “Especially if something worried him, he went into the kitchen and started cooking, baking and making all sorts of dishes.” you smiled, reminiscing of the messy Hufflepuff in the kitchen. “I guess I wanted to see if it worked. Clearly, it’s great coping mechanism.” you glanced at the plate and Sirius smiled, unwrapping the foil and taking a bite into one of the brownies. 

“It’s not bad.” he continued to chew, licking his lips as the crumbs kept falling down. 

“Not perfect yet.” you shrugged, leaning back and watching him eat the rest. “The first portion I made, I accidentally mixed baking powder with baking soda.”

“What’s the difference?” he asked, clearly more clueless about baking than you. 

“Let’s just say-” you laughed, remembering the final result of the failure and crying because of it. “- it didn’t end well.” 

He smiled with his mouth full of brown mass, clearly enjoying the sugar he was intaking. His eyes shone out some childish glint you haven’t noticed on him before. 

“Where’s you other half?” you asked, looking around the room. 

“He went to a job interview with Fleamont.” he rubbed his hands together, brushing off the crumbs. “I have it tomorrow.” 

“Oh, wow.” you were taken aback a bit. You didn’t know they would move on so quickly with the jobs. School only ended a few days ago. You thought they would enjoy more of the summer as they were both quite hyperactive teenage boys. 

“You seem surprised?” he smirked.

“I didn’t think- I mean, you and job responsibility. Sort of hard to imagine.” you teased and he laughed. 

“Hard to imagine it myself.” he stood up and walked to the sink, washing his hands. “How about you? Any job interviews?”

“No- not yet.” you smiled. “I think I’m going to take this summer off.” 

He turned around, drying his hands with a cloth as his eyes saddened again. “Is it...?” he stopped, trying to frame it into words but you understood him completely, nodding in return. “I’m sorry for what happened, (y/n).” he said, walking back to you again. “We might have our differences but he was one hell of a guy.” he smiled and you could feel the pressure in your eyes. “I didn’t ask but... how are you?” 

You swallowed thickly before answering, trying to mask the grief and the hurt you felt inside. “He told me we were soulmates.” your voice started to quiver without your permission and even thought you did not feel it, Sirius saw the tears that fell down your cheeks. He walked closer, opening his arms and pulling you in and despite who he was, his embrace felt more safe than anything- it felt as safe as it was with Will. 

You wrapped your arms around his broad chest and sobbed in. 

You didn’t feel pathethic or ashamed. You felt better now for the first time since Will’s death. 

“But if we were soulmates, wouldn’t we have had more time together?” you continued to cry, tugging his shirt under your fingers and squeezing him harder. “And Davie just left! He just disappeared into thin air after his death! He didn’t even show for the funreal!” 

Sirius put his hand on the back of your hand and let it rest there softly. “Will may be gone in his physical form but that does not mean his soul left you. He’s here, you just have to open your mind to it.” he said and now you did feel tears fall down your cheeks. 

You pulled away, watching into those grey eyes and trying to find a golden-brown colour in them. 

He felt like him. He felt so much like him. He even spoke in the same way as him, believed what Will believed. He reminded you so much of him- but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Will and that pissed you off.

James has his soulmate, alive and well, standing right in front of you, meanwhile your soulmate is dead and burried in the ground. 

More rage and eenvy boiled the grief inside of you. You couldn’t bare yourself to brake down in front of Sirius. Instead you bottled it up, ignored the lump in your throat and smiled through the pain. 

“Thank you, Sirius.” you nodded and started backing away. “For listening to me. You really did mature.” you started to joke as you backed away. “I have to go now but good luck on your interview tomorrow.” you walked to the door as he followed.

“(y/n)!” He called after you and you stopped, your hand resting on the doorknob as you looked over your shoulder with a soft simper. “He’s not the same since that day, James I mean...and... and-”

“Nobody is the same since that day, Sirius.” you forced a bigger smile, turning the door knob and opening the door. “It takes time, Sirius but he’ll come back... and so will I.” you nodded and left through the door, putting your hand over your mouth and muffling the sobs as you walked back to your house.

You locked yourself into your room and fell down on the floor. Your legs were numb just as that day. Crawling to your bed, you grabbed one of your pillows and started sobbing into it. 

It hurt so much more. It pained and ached- it felt like knives stabbing your organs. It schorched your body until it couldn’t bare to sit anymore, so to try and numb the pain you fell to your side an rocked yourself back and forth. 

Until you drowned in grief to the point you were so calm, you only felt your heart beat in your chest. Your eyes focused on this miniature spot on the wall. 

And there was nothing but that spot. That spot and you and it felt the most interesting and calming thing in the existance up until the moon came up and shone through the window and something caused your attention to turn on the brown bear next to that spot. 

You narrowed your eyes at the bear and noticed something glinging around its neck. 

Leaving the pillow behind you, you crawled up to the bear to discover the mystery glint around his neck. 

Your breath was taken away- you fell back on your ass but continued to stare at the bronze key, wrapped around it’s neck. 

You climbed back to the bear and took it into your hand. You turned it to see the metal a bit bent on the head of the key- 

‘ “I don’t get it.” you stared up at him as he groaned and hung his head and shoulders. 

“Look.” he sat down beside you, seriosness on his face. “When I die at the age of 140 years- “

“Because you’re healthy like a fish.” you rolled your eyes and he smiled.

“Exactly.” he opened your eyes, explaning further. “I’ll be burried with my key and when my body can’t handle this amazing soul of mine, my soul is gonna woosh through time and space, finding the other key and bringing it to you- just so I can prove you wrong.” 

“Not because you’re gonna look after me like a guardian angel?” you tilted your head as he shurgged.

“I mean that too but mostly to prove you wrong but seriously, all jokes aside. If anything does happen to me, especially with the war coming, I want you to know that -”

“Stop, Will.” you cut him off, placing your hands on top of his. “You won’t die. Neither will I and if what you say it’s true about these soulmates thing- than we wil both live to 140 years.” you smiled, then added. “So what does the other key look like?” you reached to his chest and pulled out his bronze key. “Like this one?” 

“Not quite. The other is a bit more used. It has a few scartches and the head is a bit more bent.” he took your hands and kissed your knuckles. “So when I do find it and bring it to you, I want you to put it around your neck. That way, I’ll always be with you- everywhere you go.” ‘

---

It was 3 in the morning the next day and you couldn’t bring yourself to fall asleep. Perhaps the reason behind it was the sleepless night before and all the nights since the graduation day. 

You stood up, stretching your arms and walking to the window. You opened it and peered through, watching the view and consuming the moonlight on your skin.

Some people soak in the sun but you prefered the moon over the sun. Sunny days were nice but moonlight was different. It has its own magic, the rare form that it can only be described in far away lands. 

You breathed in the summers breeze and opened you eyes with a smile. Turning away, you took a few steps back and closed the window back down but when you did, a familiar figure cought your eye. 

You opened the window yet again, narrowing your eyes at the figure in the distance. “James?” you muttered to yourself before closing the window again and facing it its back. 

Thoughts ran through your head, heartbeat rised faster than the sun and you squeezed your palm so the key dug into your skin. Until it pained, you realized that you held onto that key for a completely different reason. You looked down, then smled when you felt a light push on your shoulders.

--- 

James was laying on the grass, stargazing. 

He wore his favorite Gryffindor Quidditch hoodie but completely ignored the fact that it might get dirty. 

How could everything get so complicated? - Everything was such a mess and this time I can’t just get detention and erase the whole thing.  Will did not deserve death. He did not deserve to finally grow on me and then die- As soon as I become an Auror, I’ll kill Greyback with my own hands-

“Banana juice?” he shot his head to the figure next to him, offering him a small glass bottle of his favorite beverage. 

He kept looking up at you, then saw the light in your room behind you and put the pieces together. He smiled as he took the banana juice from your hands and sat up. “Wine would be nice but I can settle for banana juice.” he joked and you laughed, sitting next to him but in the opposite direction. The two of you opened the cap and clinged the glass together. “OH!” he gasped, marveling at the bottle in his hand.

Giggling, you put your own down on the grass and leaned back on your arms. “It’s imported from Germany. Aunty always brings a few packs when she visits. She knows I love it.”

“That isn’t fair.” he took chugged the whole thing down and continued to marvel at the bottle.

“Life isn’t fair.” 

His head shot up to you again, watching you bathe under the moon just like that day at the lake. It was such an innocent statement but for him it was a sentance of words he hated to think about. 

“It really isn’t.” he kept looking at you as you opened your eyes and locked yours with his. You simpered, trying to ease the tension in the air- the silence and moment that was so intense between the two of you, you could pierce through it. He shook his head and let out a chuckle. “It all got so messed up for us.” 

“Well, if we’re not messy, than what are we?” you tried to cheer him up, scooting closer to him unti the two of you were close, chest to chest. 

He tilted his head to the side and arching his eyebrows, showing his perpetual smugness. He chuckled lightly again, turning his head away and opening his mouth so the tip of his tongue licked the bottom lip, then bit it. He kept his head turned on the side but his eyes looked at you from the corner of his eyes. 

“What?” you laughed, throwing your arms back on the ground and leaning on your elbows. “If we are not this, than what are we? Really, James? Enemies, frenemies, neighbors...?”

“Complicated, I’d say.” he answered, scooting over until his shoulder was touching yours and his eyes observing your face features - mostly your lips. Those seemed to draw him the most. “Will told me you love me.” he looked up at your eyes, grinning smugly. 

You rolled your eyes, turning away just for a moment before locking your eyes with his. You grabbed his chin gently and pulled him into a slow, faint kiss- only a bare touch of your lips. He smiled wider, looking down on you as you kept looking up. “I do but as I remember correctly, you were the one with a plan of marrying me at the age of-” he cut you off with a kiss, this one more firm and deeper than the one you gave him. 

Pulling away, he brushed his thumb on your bottom lip and said. “Guess that plan is back on.” 

“Guess, it is.” 

- Fin 

[simp-for-spencer-reid]

Sugar with a Side of Coffee Ch. 11

Chapter 11: I’m Not Afraid

Series Masterlist

On another stormy day, Cate and Marta decided against taking the cart out. It was a torrential downpour; you could see the water running down the street. Every so often, lightning illuminated The Empty Mug. The girls had very few customers today, storms tended to keep the shop’s typically bustling line of patrons to a minimum. 

It hadn’t rained this morning, so like usual, Cate had walked to work, but now, she was not looking forward to walking home. If the storm didn’t let up, she’d end up staying with Marta- Shrimp could handle being on his own for the night. 

With the lack of customers, Cate and Marta played the music a little louder than Marta’s parents liked. An upbeat acoustic playing through the overhead speakers. It was almost closing time, which gave the girls a lot of downtime. The girls danced and sang with each other, Cate dancing while sweeping the tiled floor and Marta singing loudly into a wooden baking spoon. 

They were interrupted by the bells of the door. Spencer came rushing in, absolutely drenched. He was careful not to step off the black doormat. His long hair was plastered against his head; it looked darker because of its wetness, making him look player than usual. He was attempting to dry his leather messenger bag with his sleeve, which was also wet. 

Cate stopped what she was doing. She couldn’t help but stare at him, taking in how he looked in that moment. Her mind wandered to if he looked the same- pathetically wet- when he was done taking a shower. Marta watched between the two, observing how Cate might as well have had drool running down her chin. 

“Hey, Spencer!” Marta was the first to speak. She placed the wooden spoon down and began brewing a pot of coffee for him. Cate and Spencer waved to each other and Cate tried to seem busy, sweeping a place she already cleaned. Spencer walked up to the counter once he was satisfied his shoes were dry enough. 

“How are things today?” He tried to make simple conversation with her, spilling a few facts about yeast as she was baking. Marta passed a sugar dispenser and a large hot cup to him, filling it a little less so he could add his insane amount of sugar. He took his cup and the sugar and sat at the little chess table, relaxing into the old armchair.

When Cate finished sweeping the shop and putting some chairs up on tables, she made her way to the back of the shop to put away her broom. Coming round to the front, she took a little piece of chocolate chip banana bread out of the glass display case and split it in half for her and Spencer. 

“Did you drive to work this morning?” She asked, plopping into the armchair across from him. She held out his half of the bread, taking a bite of hers.

“I did, I tried to find parking by the front door, but I had to park in the back parking lot and run around to the front.” He spoke with his hands, and reached to grab the bread from Cate’s outstretched hand. “Did you walk here?” he asked, although like the profiler he is, he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, I probably will end up crashing here, though. There’s no way I’ll make it home in the storm.” Cate pulled one of her legs up to her chest, interlocking her fingers around her knee. 

“I can drive you home!” Spencer interjected a little too eagerly. This might have been part of his plan all along. He figured Cate wouldn’t have paid attention to the forecast and walked to work, which he could use to drive her home and talk with her about his feelings.

His feelings. He wanted to finally come clean to her about what was going on inside his head. She deserved to know the truth about how she consumed his thoughts.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Cate shook her head. Marta strained her neck, listening to their conversation and slipped upstairs. 

“You wouldn’t be, I don’t mind at all.” Spencer had finished his bread and just about chugged his coffee. Maybe the caffeine pumping through his veins was to blame for his shaky hands and high heart rate. 

“Oh, well, thank you. That would be great.” Cate excused herself to gather her things. Spencer threw his trash away and waited by the door for Cate. 

Marta came downstairs finally and met Cate in the backroom. Cate was hanging her apron up and putting her purse over her shoulder when Marta handed her a backpack. 

“What is this?” Cate eyed the stuffed backpack warily. Marta rolled her eyes.

“It’s my hoe-bag. I’m letting you take it with you!” MArta shook the bag, waiting for Cate to take it.

“Your what?” 

“My hoe-bag. It’s like a go bag but for my one night stands. It has all kinds of toiletries and clothes.” Marta wiggled her eyebrows. “Take it!” Cate couldn’t contain her laughter. 

“You are out of your mind.” Cate pushed her friend’s arm back.

“And that’s why you love me. Just in case!” Marta held it out again. 

“I’m not taking it. We aren’t having a ‘one night stand’. He’s just driving me home.” Cate started to walk out of the back, knowing Marta wouldn’t follow her out with her red backpack. Cate yelled a goodbye to Marta and walked over to Spencer, who was waiting by the door. “Ready?” Cate smiled. “We can take the back door. Perks of knowing an employee.” She jokingly punched his arm. 

Cate and Spencer stood side by side in the open doorway of the coffee shop’s back door for their employees. He unbuttoned his tan top coat and held it over his head. Cate looked at him with a smirk and began running towards Spencer’s light blue car. He was a step behind her, trying his best to hold his coat over her head too. He got the door for her, doing an awkward run to his side of the car. 

Cate and Spencer laughed as they pushed their wet hair out of their faces. Spencer started the car, and Cate reached over and changed the radio station from classical to a soft rock like last time. She quietly hummed along to the song playing through the car speakers.

Spencer began to drive to her apartment building, having it memorized. He imagined how the night would go in his head: He would walk her to her door, maybe ask to come in if she didn’t already invite him. They might play with shrimp for a bit before Spencer confessed his admiration for her. She might turn him down and then he would go home. Or in a perfect world, Cate would also admit feelings for him. 

Flashing blue lights pulled Spencer from his thoughts as a few police cars blocked the road to Cate’s apartment. Many cars in front of them were turning around and going back the way they came. Spencer rolled his window down a bit, and listened to the officer talk to the car in front of them. Some power lines had fallen in the wind and the road would be blocked off until morning once the storm stopped. Spencer only panicked a little on the inside, the plans in his mind thrown to the wind. 

“Um, I could take you back to mine?” He suggested. 

“Yeah, I guess that will work.” Cate nodded. She was beginning to feel nervous and sweaty. Friends could spend the night with each other, right? No big deal, Cate told herself in her mind.

Once parked, The two ran inside to Spencer’s building. He led the way inside and up the stairs to his apartment. Cate recalled the times she was inside Spencer’s apartment. There was the time he had invited her over for a movie, she had cried in front of him because her books had gotten water damage from a leaky roof, and the time where she had come over to watch a Harry Potter movie together. She could picture his apartment before he even opened the door. 

The rich tones of the dark forest green colored walls and his old fashioned sofa flooded her thoughts. The bookcases that lined the walls and his desk. His small kitchen. The smell of his apartment came into the hallway as he opened the door. 

He let her in first, closing the door behind himself. Cate placed her things on his island. He set his satchel down on the island too. She was wishing she had Marta’s ‘hoe-bag’ right about now. All she wanted to do was get out of her work clothes.

“Hot chocolate?” He offered. Spencer wouldn’t tell her that he had purchased a box for her since she didn’t like coffee. With her confirmation, he started the kettle and took out two mugs for them. 

Cate took her shoes off and walked them to the shoe rack by the door. Spencer turned the television on for ambiance. He then disappeared into his room while Cate watched the kettle. After a few minutes he reemerged in some flannel pajama pants and a tan sweatshirt. In his hands, he had another pair of folded flannel pants and an under shirt. Underneath the clothes was a fluffy blue towel. 

“If you want, you can shower here. I don’t have any girl products, though. In the drawer under the sink there’s an extra toothbrush.” Spencer held out the clothes to her. Cate took them carefully and her fingers buzzed when they brushed against his own. 

Cate knew she took long showers, so she rushed to wash her hair and body, feeling grateful she shaved her legs the day before. The hot water washed away any chill left by the rain. 

Like Spencer said, there was a spare toothbrush under the sink. Cate brushed her teeth and quickly got dressed, trying not to think too hard about the fact that she was actually wearing Spencer’s clothes. Doing one quick look around the bathroom, Cate made sure she didn’t leave anything behind and walked out. 

Spencer was nowhere to be found in his apartment. Cate looked into the main living space and he wasn’t there, just the tv playing quietly. She held her head against the door to his study, but no sounds came through the door, and there was no light coming from underneath the door. Finally, she could hear his voice coming from behind his closed bedroom door.

It sounded like he was on the phone, so Cate held the wet towel in one hand and walked over to her purse to shove her dirty clothes in it. When she padded back to the living room, Spencer had opened the door to his room. Cate made a beeline for it- part of it was seeing what he was up to and part of it was curiosity to what his room looked like. 

Dark wood dressers and dark blue walls were the first things Cate noticed. Her eyes flickered to the matching dark blue bedspread that donned his bed. Her attention was brought back to Spencer when he quietly spoke her name. 

“You can sleep here if you’d like. I can take the couch.” He was about to walk out the door, abandoning his plans for the night when Cate grabbed his arm.

“Where should I put this?” she held up the towel in her hand. He gently took it and placed it into a laundry bin that looked like a tall wicker basket. Spencer walked out of the room; he wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on his old, uncomfortable couch. 

The kettle whistled from the kitchen. Spencer and Cate both made their way to have some hot chocolate. Spencer pulled two mugs down from his cabinet, handing Cate his favorite. They sipped from their mugs, silence filling the kitchen. Cate recognized this silence had the same tension as the museum. She ran through a million conversation starters in her mind.

“You don’t have to sleep on your couch, you know.” Cate started, drawing Spencer’s eyes to hers. “I can sleep there.”

“You’re a guest. It’s common courtesy to let you take my bed.” Spencer was going to pick a factoid about houseguest courtesy when Cate said something that made him almost drop his mug.

“I mean, we’re both adults. We could both share the bed?” He must be dreaming. Cate didn’t know what came over her that made her so bold. When they finished their hot chocolates, Cate washed them in Spencer’s sink so she could put them away. Spencer had already made his way to his bedroom, pacing alongside his bed. 

“What side do you prefer?” He tried to act calm, like he wasn’t about to share a bed with a girl he could only dream of. He was losing confidence with every second that ticked by. 

“Either is fine with me.” Cate shrugged. Spencer chose the side closest to the door. He blamed his FBI training on his protectiveness. Cate opened the covers and slid into bed on the other side. Cate wanted to fill the silence. “Is it true that everyone has an FBI agent in their phone that watches what they google and text and it’s like a little spy?” Cate looked at him with raised eyebrows. 

“Where on Earth did you get that idea from?” Spencer laughed.

“I’ve seen it around.” Cate shrugged cooly. Content now that the tension was broken, she rolled over. “Goodnight, Spence.”

And that was it. Hearing that nickname was the tipping point. This moment in time right here was his chance to finally tell Cate everything. He rolled to face her back.

“Actually,” He started. Cate rolled back around to face him when he started talking. “There’s something I have to tell you- and it’s okay to send me to the couch after I say what I say. Please don’t interrupt until I’m done, I have a lot I want to get out.” Cate nodded and Spencer took a deep breath. “All my life I’ve felt like a bit of an outcast. Being so young in school was a social disadvantage. You make me feel like I belong. You are so kind and so good in a world where I see so much bad. You are such a good friend that I’m scared you won’t talk to me after this, but I need you to know that I want to be more than friends, Cate. And above everything, you make me wish I had a normal job that wouldn’t put you in danger. I didn’t tell you, but a few cases ago we had a stalker and he had pictures of us together and I never want to put you in harm’s way. I understand if that is a lot. I’ll head to the couch.” Spencer didn’t realize how close Cate had gotten. He went to sit up, ready to be let down. Maybe he could get an hour of sleep on the couch. Cate grabbed his shoulder and his head hit the pillow again. She brushed her fingers across his forehead, moving some pieces out of his face. Spencer’s eyes flicked to Cate’s lips, and he closed his eyes. She moved in, shook her head even though Spencer couldn’t see and whispered.

“I’m not afraid.”

This time, Cate leaned in first and kissed him as if she really wasn’t afraid. Spencer placed his hand on her cheek and kissed her back.

[kissable-vance-medici]

||Temeplate credit to @video-space !! ||

[INFO]

Name: Leilani christan ormsby/thistlewaite

Gender:Male

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality:Gay

Weapon/fighting style of choice: Paddles/ Bats

[DIALOGUE]

Greetings:

-"Well hello, mind for a talk James?"

-"Hopkins! Greetings, a moment of your time please?"

-"Jimmy, can we speak?"

-"James, How are you?"

Saying Goodbye:

- "I have to go check on my baby Perri, see you later James"

- "Well times ran out, I have to hear another phone call from my mother."

- "I best be going, my designs aren't going to finish themselves!"

-"Fare well Hopkins, I have to catch a gift from my Fathers' in the office about now"

Chasing:

- "Get back here, you, you doormat!!"

- "Once I catch you, you'll be hearing from three lawyers!"

-"Stop running, face me coward!"

Out of breath:

- "I'm wasting time, you're lucky I have plans today.."

- "No..Wait till I catch my breath then you'll be unlucky.."

-"Oh! My side! Heavens I need to run more.."

Walking around talking to themself:

- "My Daddies won't stop sending me hideous sweaters!"

- "Sometimes I wish I did come out a girl just so my mother would leave me alone about the subject"

- "Dresses aren't that bad to wear, mommy used to make me wear them when I was small! Maybe they're just tad itchy is all.."

- "Would life for me be much better if i was born a girl, well maybe for mommy's life.."

- "Having two dads ain't so bad as mommy always told me.."

- "My Daddy isn't as bossy as Mommy, I wish she'd get boys are more better than girls"

- "Only good gift I've gotten from my Daddies is Perri, no boy could replace him when it comes to those nights.."

-"Perri is what's keeping me from giving into my mothers wishes of what she wants"

-"Perri is like a baby to me, speaking of, I should go down to buy him treats"

-"My Mother says kissing boys here is dangerous, I think the only good advice she's given my entire life"

-"Maybe lower class boys can be handsome, well MAYBE can at least.."

Conversing:

- "Did your Mother ever make you say you were a girl?"

- "You know those rubber things in the small packages? I don't think it's gum.."

- "You know James, you are cute but I wish you dressed less poor so if we were seen together my parent's would suspect a thing!"

- "I think I have Scoliosis, I've been forgetting a lot of things"

- "When I was little I found this strange collar in my Daddies' room, I'm still wondering if they were gonna get me a puppy."

- "What do you normally shop for James?"

- "Do you think when you drink blue punch, your pee is blue? I swear some toilets suspiciously have Blue in them"

- "My mommy had a small dog named Lily when I was 7, she liked dirt, reminds me of the jar of dirt I used to make a dirt mountain in the living room when she strangely vanished.."

Conversation Response:

- "Oh my."

- "Indeed."

-"Quite interesting, may you say more."

- "Undertsable, I get that."

- "Couldn't get that, but I will try."

Complaining:

- "Maybe for once boys dressed nice I'd kiss them!"

- "I wish my Mommy would lay off, only if I had the guts!"

- "God dammit, I stepped in gum!I think I'm gonna cry…"

- "Perri accidentally pooped on my arm when I was chatting with a cute boy, I cant believe he'd do me like this!"

- "My last pair of underwear is once again missing! These pants are really not soft, think I'm getting another rash on my- you know where!"

Unknown/Cut Dialogue:

- "It is normal to faint five times after a hot shower?"

- "My Mother is getting on my back after that date with one of the bullies, wish she got that he actual showers?"

- "What the hell is a V card, is there letter cards I never heard about? And why do people always take them?"

- Sometimes I'll be doing something but blink and find myself on the floor, I don't get what the nurse means by neurocardiogenic syncope? Is that like a sleep thing?"

-"I have 10 brothers, no wonder my mom wanted me to be a girl"

Starting fight with Cliques:

[Bullies]

- "God, I hope your pimples don't pop during a punch!"

- "Bet you fight like you dress, poorly!"

- "You nothing more than pennies on the ground!"

- "Come at me you heathens!"

[Greasers]

- "I'll be washing my hand when I'm done with you!"

- "Under all that leather is nothing more but a walking non-sqeak door canister!"

- "Don't slip on your hair gel when you get a run start!"

-"Fast food places use less grease than you put in your hair!"

[Nerds]

- "You may have brains, but i know you dont have brawl!"

- "You're weaker than my baby cousin!"

- "You're gonna wish you keep that nose in a book!"

- "Hope you like not seeing for a week, four eyes!!"

[Jocks]

- "Keep those sweaty hands away from me!"

- "Smells like wet jockstrap!"

- "Come at me you Sport freaks!"

-"Football dont teach you punching skills!"

[Townies]

- "Glad bullworth doenst have you in it"

- "Proud Derby dont waste money on you!"

- "Ready to get a taste of Bullworth!"

- "I'd sue you but I dont think you have enough money to even pay for a parking hours at the cournt house!"

Requesting an errand:

- "James, If you do this thing for me maybe you can buy better clothes?"

- "Quite an heavens call, Hopkins I need help!"

- "Speak of the devil, James I need a errand please, help one out"

- "Jimmy dearest, mind getting em a few things? I'll pay extra!"

Friendly Comments:

- "Good evening James, you look stunning for once!"

- "Proper clothes, Hopkins I'm quite shocked"

- "Jimmy, ya know Perri doesnt find you all that bad?"

- "James, you make me question if some boys do have have taste here"

Unfriendly Comments:

- "Whered you find those? Bottom of your moms drawer?"

- "At least I have two daddies"

- "Move aside, I dont need to waste my eyesight on you punk"

- "The only thing thatd describe you is what you find vomited near the dumpster melted in the pavement"

[EXTRA]

Demanding flowers:

- "Maybe a little something can make me not mind your clothes?"

- "A gift would be nice if you really cared"

- "Honey, if you didnt have the fashion to ask me out, do you have the gift to make up for it?"

After receiving flowers:

- "I hope you checked for spiders, I might cry"

- "Well, i mean, clothes arent all that important right now.."

- "Quite nice of you James, ain't you a sweetheart?"

Before kissing:

- "I quite flattered, come here baby"

- "A kiss?Been awhile since a nice boy asked me this"

- "Let me see what's it like to kiss boys like you"

Post-kiss:

- "Oh James, I quite enjoyed that"

- "You know, maybe if your open tonight, I can measure some designs on you?"

- "I now get what Gord means"

- "We cant hold hands, I dont want any longer calls with my mother, BUT James I do appreciate this"

[PHOTO OF YOUR OC]

Tags: //Honestly i dont know who to tag 😔// @video-space @gordvendomewhore

[amyscascadingtabs]

paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

Rosa Diaz has never been dumped before. She thought she would be better at it.

(Or, Rosa's first twenty-four hours post being dumped are a bit of a rollercoaster.) Set pre 7x04.

read on ao3

Rosa’s never been dumped before. She thought she would be better at it.

 Rosa knows how to break up with people. She doesn't start unnecessary drama. She's not overly emotional. Ever since her relationship with Marcus, she actually lets her exes talk about their emotions. She's never been dumped, but she's seen firsthand how people act when they are and knows she’d never make the same mistakes. She would have seen it coming - she wouldn’t be caught off guard, like Marcus. She wouldn't be crying, like Adrian. She wouldn't have kept asking what she did wrong, like Kaitlin, who she dated for a short bit before she came out. She wouldn't be insisting they try again, try just a little bit longer, like Alicia.

 Then Jocelyn breaks up with her and Rosa does all of the above.

It would be ironic if it wasn't quite so painful.

She doesn't see it coming, although in retrospect, maybe she should have. There were warning signs. There was that time when Jocelyn came to the precinct before her trip, that time at brunch when Rosa raised her voice at a remark about it being a shame they don't do this more often and Jocelyn turned all quiet. There were more conflicts and petty arguments after that. Always about the same things - Rosa's job taking too much time, Rosa having to cancel last minute because of a case, and in the end, Rosa not being fully there when she was there. Those arguments were resolved, though. Rosa would apologize, promise she'd be better in the future. She’d make an effort and things would improve. They were happy, and Rosa’s ashamed of how baffled she gets when Jocelyn says no, it's for real this time.

 She cries. No desperate screams or hysterical bawling, but there are tears in her eyes from the first word Jocelyn speaks and she hears her voice breaking as she tries to form apologies, protests, stop whatever is happening before it's too late. She asks what she did wrong, if there's anything she can make better, and Jocelyn patiently explains how their needs just don't work together and Rosa says but I want them to and Jocelyn shakes her head. She insists they try again, promises she'll work less, be more present, if only she can get another chance. Jocelyn says she's given Rosa too many chances. Then she leaves without even slamming the door, pretending like she didn't just become the first person to dump Rosa Diaz.

 Rosa drinks two glasses of whiskey and a shot of tequila. It burns, but it numbs, and it gets her through the quick process of collecting all the things from her apartment that either belonged to Jocelyn, were given to her by Jocelyn or just remind her too much of Jocelyn, and putting them in different bags. A spare makeup bag, a collection of travel-size hair products, various items of clothing Jocelyn kept in one of Rosa’s drawers. Old gifts - a mug that says Certified Nancy Meyers Expert, a hand-crafted photobook, matching jewelry that Rosa made for them. The items that are Jocelyn’s go in a bag to be dropped off outside her house, and the gifts, in a moment of fury and frustration, go in the trash. After that, Rosa goes to bed, allowing the numbness lull her into a false sense of security that lets her sleep.

 Her first thought the next morning is that her head hurts. Her second thought is that the bed’s too cold, and she’s spread out in a way that feels wrong. She reaches for her phone and is two seconds away from sending Jocelyn a text message to say good morning and tell her she misses her before she remembers.

She deletes Jocelyn’s contact picture - a cheesy selfie of them both - and the double pink heart emoji, not added by Rosa, from her name. Suddenly, phone contact Jocelyn Price with a grey-and-white avatar could be anyone. An old acquaintance, a neighbor, or someone entirely unimportant. Rosa pretends it’s true.

She’s grateful she’s working a double homicide. A tough case is exactly what she needs, something to take her focus and let her dive deep into figuring out someone else’s problems rather than her own. She’s also grateful she’s working with Charles, who is observant enough to tell something’s off but too respectful slash terrified to ask what, and instead tells her every detail about Nikolaj’s school performance whenever there’s a moment’s silence. Rosa loses herself in the case, working their final leads until she knows which suspect did it, and through some miraculous twist of fate, one hour later they have a confession.

It’s barely past three in the afternoon.

 “Fantastic work, guys,” Terry applauds them, and Charles looks pleased with himself while Rosa just shrugs. “You know what? You can go home early today.”

“But why?” Rosa spits out, and Charles narrows his eyes at her before leaving.

“You solved the case - excellent job, Diaz - and the precinct seems calm. Go ahead, take the night off.” Terry smiles. “Have a date night with Jocelyn! Make dinner! Buy her flowers! Whatever you guys like to do!”

“Fine,” she wheezes, but Terry seems oblivious to her bitterness.

“Have a fun night!” He grins, and Rosa fantasizes about grabbing his suspenders and snapping them against his pecs hard enough for it to hurt.

 She goes to the gym instead. Rosa usually prefers workouts that keep her flexible and agile over anything else, but today she needs to let out the anger. She warms up, gets gloves and finds a punching bag and then she’s hitting it with strike after strike until she’s dripping with sweat. It’s probably cliché to release anger through boxing, but it works and it’s legal and better than trying to feel her feelings. She lets the anger and frustration come out through the cross-punches and side-kicks, lets it leave her body as she tires herself out, and she exercises until her arms and legs are shaking and she realizes that she’s not just mad at Jocelyn, she’s also mad at herself.

 Jocelyn broke up with her, implying Rosa’s the one who made mistakes. Rosa’s her own reason she lost something so precious and important to her. She’s heartbroken and humiliated, and apparently, it’s her own fault for not trying hard enough. It’s her fault she lost her first stable relationship after coming out, her fault she lost a person she could imagine a long time, maybe even forever with. She lost her girlfriend who was funny and genuine and the best snuggle partner, lost long mornings in bed talking about everything and nothing, lost late nights drinking wine and making out. She lost surprise dates and sweet texts, going out to dinner and having company at Shaw’s, lost a life they had built together.

 She lost the person who was there when she wasn’t talking to her parents. Jocelyn listened to her when Rosa confided in her about all the times her parents had let her down before, kicked her out, ignored her cries for help until she didn’t believe she was worthy of support in the first place, and then she told her she deserved better. Rosa hadn’t known what to say to that, but Jocelyn didn’t seem to mind, and Rosa had loved her more for it.

 She lost the first person after Adrian she could see herself getting married to. Even doing the whole white dress and fancy reception thing, if Jocelyn wanted that. Rosa's never been sure about kids, knows she doesn’t want biological ones, but Jocelyn had made her picture a future where they could adopt or become foster parents. Rosa likes the thought of offering someone the safe and supportive home she never had herself, and Jocelyn seems like a good person to do that together with.

 Seemed. Not seems. Because everything they had, and everything she thought might be in their future, Rosa lost.

 She leaves the gym when her whole body’s weak from exertion and tears are burning behind her eyelids. It's still just four-thirty p.m.

 She buys dinner from a poké bowl place to go and eats it in front of The Holiday. Rosa’s a firm believer that a Nancy Meyers movie can cure just about everything, and although she remembers watching this one just a few weeks ago with Jocelyn, it does a good job of serving as a comfort blanket. No ex gets to ruin Nancy Meyers for Rosa Diaz.

 She keeps checking her phone for texts throughout the evening, and then stopping herself from sending them when there aren’t any. Once she finishes her meal, she archives Instagram pictures where Jocelyn appears, trying to reaffirm the removal of this person from her life. She thinks of deleting them entirely, but something stops her. The posts are left archived.

 The end credits to The Holiday have just started rolling when a text message pops up from presumable stranger Jocelyn Price.

 Hey. I packed your stuff. Can I come drop it off and get my things? I can be there in half an hour.

 There are no hearts or emojis. There always used to be. Rosa used to joke about them, say she wonders how Jocelyn communicated at all before they existed, but now the lack of them is a sharp sting in her chest.

 She can’t imagine seeing Jocelyn right now, so she turns off the TV and leaves a key under the doormat.

 It hits her as she gets in the car that she has no idea where to go. She doesn’t want to talk to her parents, so home’s not an option. She could go to Shaw’s and drink in silence, but she’s not feeling like hiding from chatty coworkers. She’s already been to the gym and she doesn’t need groceries. She supposes she could let the car radio blast death metal and just drive, but she’s got work tomorrow and Brooklyn evening traffic sucks, so there’s not much point to that either.

 She figures Gina will be busy, because she’s always busy nowadays, but it’s worth a try. She texts a simple Can I come over? and waits.

 It takes fifteen minutes before the reply comes. In those fifteen minutes, Rosa has stared at her currently violet-painted nails until she's convinced they’re the ugliest thing seen to date, booked an appointment with her nail technician the next day, and played five levels of Candy Crush.

 Sorry boo, Gina's text reads. Milton just came over with Iggy and I haven't seen her in a week so I really wanna spend some time with her. We should hang out soon though, I miss you!

 It hadn't occurred to Rosa that Gina would be with Iggy. It makes her feel guilty - what sort of friend doesn't remember her friend’s kid? - but she figures that's a direct effect of not having a family of her own to prioritize. Hell, she doesn't even have a partner anymore. What does she know?

 Rosa thinks of the comment Gina made upon her coming out as bi. In another lifetime, you and I would have made a hot-ass couple. Maybe she’s right, but they're in this lifetime, where even Gina, who used to go about relationships so similarly to Rosa, has a family of her own. Everyone in Rosa's friend group has at least a serious partner to accommodate for. Everyone, except as of twenty-four hours ago, Rosa herself.

 She's not the jealous type, and she certainly doesn’t see her life as being worth less without a partner or children, but the distinction stings nonetheless. She hadn't realized how much she valued at least being in a serious relationship when it came to that feeling of inclusion, something giving her a sense of not being completely behind in the race to society's ideal life. It doesn't seem to matter how much Rosa tells herself she’s never cared for it; the race exists anyway, and she just took a big jump backwards while everyone else keeps racing ahead.

 She texts Amy next.

Hey. Can I come over?

 The phone vibrates in the next second, but it’s not Amy who replies - it’s another text message from Jocelyn.

 Got my things and left yours, key’s under the doormat. Thanks.

 No emojis again. Whatever’s happening seems to be for real, and Rosa clenches her fists and presses her nails into her palm to avoid smashing something. Then she writes Amy a second message.

 Jocelyn broke up with me.

 The reply comes only a minute later.

 Of course you can come over. Are you okay?

Rosa doesn’t bother answering before driving.

   “Jake's with Charles,” Amy explains as she lets Rosa in. “Sorry about the mess - I’m working on a binder for the new car.” She gestures to a neat setup on the kitchen table. Not exactly what Rosa would call a mess.

“You can finish it, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no, it’s fine! Honestly. I should try to do this with Jake anyway,” she explains, already starting to put away the papers. “Try being the crucial word, but still. Anyway, I guess you want to drink in silence? I shouldn’t really have alcohol, but I can get you something.”

Rosa raises an eyebrow, and Amy gives her a timid smile. “Just trying to keep that egg quality up.”

“It’s okay. I drove here anyway.”

“Right. Well, I also have… tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Wait, do you drink hot chocolate? ”

“Tea’s fine.”

“Great!” Amy shines with a little too much enthusiasm before bundling the last of the papers together and holding them to her chest. “I’ll put away these. You can put on some hot water, there’s tea and mugs in the cupboard left of the sink. We have way too many, so pick your favorite.”

 She disappears into the hallway with her papers as Rosa looks through their tea collection. It's pretty bleak. There's a jar of random tea bags that seem to have been collected from various restaurants, a package of Earl Grey, a green tea with lemon and something called conception tea which looks expensive and apparently tastes like sweet mint. Rosa opts for the regular green tea, choosing a mug at random and taking a new one once she realizes her first choice has Team Peraltiago written on it in Charles’ handwriting. There’s one painted in the colors of the bi flag, possibly by coincidence - she’s never been sure about how much self-insight Jake has in these things - but she goes for it anyway. She nearly knocks over two tiny jars of what look to be fertility supplements, one with a pink label and one with a blue, as she takes it out.

 She reads through the papers on their fridge as she lets the tea steep. There’s a wedding invitation for someone named Santiago, maybe a cousin. An invite to Nikolaj’s birthday party, grocery store coupons, and a printed list of foods that boost sperm count and egg quality. Walnuts. Spinach. Broccoli. Salmon.

Gross, she can read Jake’s scrawly handwriting on the paper. I’m not eating any of that.

Yes you are, she recognizes Amy’s neat writing beneath.

Fine, it says below that in the messy writing. But it’s just because I love you. An uneven heart has been drawn next to it.

Love you more, reads the neat handwriting after the heart. Rosa gets a sharp pang of missing Jocelyn and checks her phone again. No new messages.

 Amy comes back without the papers and Rosa looks away from the fridge, pretending like she wasn't just reading their personal conversations. She sits down on the new couch instead, waiting as Amy makes her own cup of tea before joining her.

“I don’t want to talk about my breakup,” Rosa says, a little snappy. “No emotional questions. No asking why. No asking what happened.”

Amy nods slowly. “Can I ask if you’re okay?”

“Sure.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know,” she grunts, and takes a sip of the tea. It tastes too bitter, like the cheap kind you get in waiting rooms where it’s been bought in multi-packs and everyone’s already picked out the good flavors. She makes a note to buy Amy some better tea for Christmas. “Just forgot how bad breakups were.”

“You didn’t see it coming?”

Rosa shoots her friend a warning glare, and she mumbles a quiet apology.

“No. I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” says Amy, and there’s such a genuine level of care and sympathy conveyed in her tone that Rosa accepts it.

“So am I.” A wave of regret follows the confession, or maybe it’s just pain. Either way, it makes her grimace. “Can we talk about something else? Please?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Rosa’s gaze falls to a thick book about pregnancy on the coffee table, a pink post-it note sticking out from a few pages in. “Tell me about how the trying to get pregnant thing is going.”

Amy scrunches her forehead. “You really want to know about that?”

“Well, I don’t have to know the details about your sex life -”

“I wouldn’t tell you those anyway -”

“- but yeah. How’s it going? I know Jake’s over the moon, but how are you?”

 Amy seems to consider the question for a bit, moving her hands around the teacup and chewing on her lip. “Scared. And excited,” she’s quick to fill in, as if she feels guilty to admit the former on its own. “So excited. But nervous. It’s impossible to prepare for, and I hate not being prepared.”

“You bought a car.”

“Bought a new couch, bought a car, researched OB-GYNs and preschools,” she lists off, nodding. “I made a checklist, so we’re going through as much of that as possible before. There’s a lot left, though.”

“That stresses you?”

“A little. It all got so real so quickly.”

“I get what you mean,” Rosa says, although she's not sure she does. “Does Jake know you're stressed?”

“He suggested we make the checklist so I could feel in control. So he knows. He helps. I would've been a lot more stressed without him.” Amy twists the rings on her left fourth finger, adjusting the stone on the engagement ring.

There’s a faraway look in her eyes, and Rosa can see her friend's lips form the content, somewhat secretive, smile that used to follow the double tuck, but now comes in a stronger, more obvious form whenever she talks about Jake. It’s one of the few things Rosa’s never been tempted to make fun of her for, too full of complete and unadulterated love for it to be worthy of laughter. Tonight, though, it makes her jealous.

 “You know what’s weird?” Amy doesn’t wait for Rosa to reply before launching into an explanation. “I’m scared about a billion things. Like whether or not I can get pregnant in the first place, if the baby will be healthy, whether or not I’ll be a good mom to them. That’s not something you can read about in a book! I could learn everything there is to know about infants and I could still be unsure of how to take care of my own. That terrifies me.” She takes a deep breath.

“But I still want it so much. Even more now, because seeing Jake so excited about it makes me so much more excited. I can’t wait to take that step in our life. So even though it’s crazy, and there’s so much left to do, and every month I think it’s okay if it hasn’t worked yet because it means I’ll have a little more time to prepare - I’m so disappointed when I get my period, I swear I want to punch something.”

“Wow.”

“Mm-hmm.” Amy chuckles. “I mean, I haven’t. Punched anything yet. But I really hope it works soon.”

“Hence the supplements and weird tea?” Rosa eyes her friend’s teacup.

“Yeah. Probably all placebo, but it can’t hurt, right?”

“I guess not,” Rosa mumbles.

 A comfortable silence settles between them after that. Rosa’s reminded of late nights in the same apartment three years ago, when Jake and Holt were in witness protection and Adrian was hiding somewhere. Amy and Rosa had begun a tradition of drinking tequila and watching Nancy Meyers movies together on nights when both of them felt a little too lonely, and sometimes Amy would vent and Rosa would listen. They’d been in the same place then; existing in the no man’s land of being in a serious relationship with someone you loved so much, but unable to speak to them, forced to lie to your friends and family if they asked. It had been a comfort to know someone out there who got it when nobody else did, and it made them grow that much closer. They were living identical nightmares, after all.

 Now Rosa can’t imagine their lives looking any more different. Amy’s married, to the same person she was already with at that time, and they’re trying to have a baby together. Rosa almost got married to Adrian, then she didn’t, then she went to prison and they broke up. She came out as bi, had two short relationships before meeting Jocelyn, and now she’s just been dumped for the first time in her life.

 Rosa doesn't have a problem with her life being different from other people's. It always has been.

She didn't grow up with the safe, supportive parents all her friends seemed to have, and at times she thinks she's never searched for or expected that love from someone else, either. If she survived without it then, she can survive without it now.

She didn't know she wanted to become a cop at first, so she tried to put herself through med school and business school and aviation school before finding her calling. It was confusing, cost her a small fortune and made her wish she could just decide, but it also gave her enough of a variety of skills to make sure she would never have to depend on anyone for anything.

She’s not against marriage with the right person, can imagine adopting or taking in foster kids in the same situation, but neither has ever been the end goal.

 She's not jealous of Amy, or Jake, or the life they're currently living. Rosa doesn’t need marriage or kids - all she’s jealous of is the clear path. Amy speaks about her future with security, a confidence of knowing something about what’s going to happen next and believing it will turn out okay. She might be worried and a little stressed, but she’s not lost.

 Neither is Jake, who Rosa always expected would be like her, not following the beaten track. She’d found a kinship with him in that aspect. Both of them were outcasts with crappy families who dreamed of being heroes, taking down mafia bosses, dying heroically on the job. Neither of them imagined long-term partners, marriages or kids. It’s strange to think about the guy who once claimed he was definitely going to die alone being married to the love of his life, and stranger still to picture him adding sperm count-boosting foods into his diet because he’s trying to have a baby with her. Jake’s found his path. Rosa doesn’t have a clue of what hers looks like anymore.

 Amy’s phone buzzes on the coffee table. She picks it up, making a noise like a quiet chortle and smiling before she starts typing. Rosa checks her own phone again, still feeling like there should be a message from Jocelyn there, but there’s no notifications other than Candy Crush telling her she just got new lives.

 The empty screen hurts more than her jealousy of any beaten track, she realizes. Most of all, Rosa just misses Jocelyn already, because she should be picking up her phone at the same moment as Amy and there should be a sweet message there and she should be replying to it with that same smile on her face. Anything else feels wrong, despite the fact that it’s real, because she didn’t see it coming. She doesn’t feel like she got a say, and a familiar, ruthless voice in her head keeps whispering you fucked up and it’s your fault and now you’re suffering the consequences.

 In all her earlier breakups, no matter how painful they’ve been, she’s been in control. Without that dimension and mental preparation, the missing is sharper, like the stab of a knife pushing deeper once she thought the worst was over. She’s angry, because if she’s not angry she doesn’t know how to survive, but beneath the anger lies a layer of shock and loneliness that hurts more than she thought a breakup could.

 She thought she would be better at being dumped. Instead, she’s clutching her phone while tears take shape in her eyes, making their way down her cheeks before she can stop them.

“Rosa?” Amy’s biting her lip, quickly pocketing her phone and reaching for a packet of tissues on the coffee table. Rosa accepts one, wiping the tears away before crumpling it to a ball. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t been dumped before,” she confesses, staring at the tissue to avoid eye contact. “Does it get easier?”

“Yeah.” Amy looks at Rosa in a way that makes her feel a bit like she’s a child being taken care of. It’s a little humbling, but it’s not an all bad feeling. “Yeah, it does. It just takes a while.”

“It hurts like hell.”

“I know.”

“I hate it,” Rosa mutters. “I didn’t get a fucking choice. I never knew how much of a difference that made.”

“Well, now you know. It sucks. But...” Amy leans her head to the side. “Maybe that’s a good thing, too?”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

“If it hurts, that means it mattered, right? If you miss something, then there was something to miss in the first place. It means you opened yourself up and built something of meaning with someone. I know that doesn’t make it easier -”

Rosa snorts. “No, it doesn’t.”

“But it might mean that something can matter again,” Amy says, fixing her eyes on Rosa’s. “Someday. Even if it feels impossible right now.”

 Rosa's not sure what to say, so she sits quiet instead. Amy coughs.

“That was cheesy, sorry. I can just get you a drink instead -”

“I thought I’d be better at this,” Rosa repeats, ignoring Amy. “I mean, I’m great at dumping people.”

“Not as great of a brag as you think.”

“I just don’t know why it feels so different. Is it because I wasn’t prepared? Is it because I didn’t do it myself? It doesn’t make sense,” she spits out.

“It could be that,” Amy shrugs. “Or it could be that it meant a lot to you. It was your longest relationship after coming out, and you don’t really talk about things like these, but… sometimes it seemed like the happiest you’ve ever been with someone, too. Maybe that’s what makes it painful. Not that you got dumped.”

 A couple of tears fall again. Rosa dries them away with the crumpled tissue. She thinks of last weekend, when Jocelyn stayed over and they woke up in the same bed next to each other. They’d stayed there for hours, needing nothing else in the world except each other’s presence. Jocelyn had wrapped her arm around Rosa and kissed her forehead and she’d snuggled into her girlfriend’s chest, and it had been safe and warm and she’d thought of how, in a perfect reality, she’d want to wake up like this every morning for the rest of her life.

She’d never pictured forever with someone before. In bed that morning, it hadn’t even scared her.

 She doesn’t care about the beaten track. She doesn’t mind that her life is different. In the end, she doesn’t care that she’s in the middle of her life and just got dumped while everyone around her kept on getting married and having kids and trying to fit into the perfect mold. She cares that she lost a person she didn’t want to lose, and it didn’t feel like she had a choice in the matter.

“Maybe,” she mumbles. “I… thanks. I should leave.”

“You can stay if you want,” Amy offers, nodding to the couch. “This folds out into an extra bed. Jake’s on his way home, but you know he wouldn’t mind.”

Rosa shakes her head, already standing up. “I should head home. But, uhm, thank you. Really.”

“Anytime. Sorry - I don’t know if anything I said helped.”

“It did.”

“Oh.” Amy blushes. “Wow. I’m glad?”

“Amy?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to be a good mom.” Rosa puts her teacup in the sink before going to put on her jacket. “Seriously. I know you’re scared, but you don’t need to worry about that. I mean it.”

Amy opens her mouth as if to say something, but Rosa holds up a hand to stop her and she nods instead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rosa says, and then she's out the door before Amy can say anything back.

 It's still a lonely experience, getting the key from underneath the doormat and seeing that all of Jocelyn’s things are gone. Rosa doesn't expect that feeling to disappear for a while, but maybe she’ll learn to live with it.

 Rosa may not have been dumped before, but she has been left alone to fend for herself. She sends a text to Gina to ask if they can schedule something soon, and reminds herself as she goes to bed that this is different. She might not have a partner or kids or a perfect relationship with her parents, but she has her friends, and she may be lonely right now but she’s not alone.

 Then she opens the anonymous-looking contact that used to be her favorite, and types in five words.

I’m going to miss you.

 She waits for five minutes, but there’s no answer. She hovers over the block-button for a moment, wondering if it’s immature, then presses it anyway.

 She’s just turned off her bedroom lamp when her phone buzzes again, and for a second her heart is in her throat until she remembers she just blocked Jocelyn. Jake’s sent a gif of two kittens hugging, and Amy’s written another message.

 Thank you. ❤️

You’re going to be okay, Rosa. Call me if you need anything? Even if it's just someone to talk to.

 Rosa sends a heart emoji back.

 Rosa’s never been dumped before. She thought she would be better at it, but for now, she’s doing her best.

[kylo-wrecked]

@reyjustrey //:  🌚  a response to a thing 

And when I awoke I was alone This bird had flown

{ 13:00, Ben's flat, East Yavin City }

Nobody had gone in or out of flat 1502 for over a week, but there was hallway traffic aplenty. Folks in scarves, hoods, and sunglasses loitered in the long, gray corridors for hours grasping at a chance to break in or catch a glimpse of the man who might walk out. They came and went at all times of the day, knocking hands and mouths against the door, crying, playing music, leaving stuffed bears and other dollar store knick-knacks willy-nilly in the halls until a next-door neighbor alerted security. 

In the days following the Stone expose, every magazine from PAPER to People pushed one 'shocking!' anecdote after another. 'Unmasked' might well have been 'Kylo Ren's' surname. But it was The Daily Jabba, the trashy, flashy international tabloid that had published Ben's home address. 

When fans could no longer infiltrate the luxury complex with their bodies, they sent fan mail. Fat manila envelopes littered Ben's doormat. Chic, laser-cut calling cards--there were piles. Bras and briefs, and a cock-shaped baguette. Splashes of cheap bouquets. And as the days passed, a small Jenga tower of unopened packages began to form around the front door. 

Yet nobody had gone in or out of flat 1502 until the beginning of July, when a red-headed man carrying a brown paper bag ambled down the hall, toppled the boxes with a pointed shoe, and let himself in. The foyer was dark and stagnant. Not an altogether pleasant place to be, but the man who entered did not appear altogether pleasant either. His clothes were impeccable, dark in that pretentious, self-prepossessing fashion. The neck, the face untouched by sun, cornered, and rather haughty. The red-headed man studied the hall with sluicy blue eyes, then strode through the bedroom door. 

He recoiled as though he'd been struck, dropped the brown bag onto a chaotic drafting board, loosing crumpled papers and sending brittle brush markers flying everywhere. Then the red-headed man had a bit of a fight with the window. Only when he'd forced it open did he approach the lump in the bed. The red-headed man did not look pleased. His keen blue eyes dulled, mouth puckered in disdain. 

"It reeks in here," the man said. "Mosh pits smell better."

He tossed the keys onto the lump, which groaned. 

"Armie? That you? Kind of you to join us." 

The lump sounded rather drunk. Armie--Armitage Hux, it was an old family name, really--contemplated the daylight streaming through the blinds, then the bed.

"You're a mess," he said. "Get up."

"Hand over the grub first," the lump protested.

"Under no circumstances are you eating tacos in Egyptian linen." Armitage sneered. "I'll leave them out," he sighed and turned to leave the room. 

Ben emerged from his cocoon of blankets and pillows a second later, red-eyed and rumpled in a stained gray crew neck and a pair of black designer sweats. He had a five-day beard and a gaunt look about him. Sort of swayed when he got to his feet. 

"Beautiful butterfly, you," Artimage deadpanned. 

- ☾ -

The ruins of a Tex-Mex lunch languished on the coffee table in the living room. Some posh acrylic slab Ben's interior designer insisted he ‘must have’ smack in the center of it. This, on the basis that it would organically draw the eye to the panoramic of Yavin Central Park. The famous view had lopped an additional five-figures onto the mortgage. Now it was obscured by heavy gray voile. The curtains were clammed shut, and the remote laid in taco-shell shards on the floor. 

Ben was a splitting seam. He told Armitage everything, every excruciating granule of detail; from the first time he broke an electric string, to the moment Ben knew he would never attend the Cairn Conservatory of Music. And how he fell into Snoke’s illicit side-hustle--the terrible thing he’d done. The sheet music burning a hole in his underwear drawer. 

Ben told this to Armitage Hux, the lights guy, the last person in the world Ben expected to tell. Perhaps it was easier to tell someone with whom he had only a working relationship. There was a balance of freedom and intimacy to confiding in a person from the outer rim of his personal life. Armitage even listened, to Ben’s every tangent, to every hitch in his voice, each minute cycle of fragility. When he was done, Armitage leaned back in his seat. 

"Have you always been this way?" His lips perked at the corners. A smile. Ben found it hard to believe, even if the proof was there. 

"I don't know," Ben groaned, raking a hand through his hair, then over his face. "Probably." He sheepishly brushed the crumbs off his end of the sofa sectional. Kylo Ren's black symmetrical sectional. The one his ex picked out. It didn't feel like his. Never had. The Knights, the name 'Kylo Ren,' was all a fucking gambit, Snoke's pet conceit right from the start. Nothing had ever belonged to Ben, and he had never belonged to anyone. And all he had wanted-- 

Ben's chest constricted. He stifled a sob. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. Once he 'd swallowed it, everything in his body seemed to calcify. His posture and face hardened, and he sat motionlessly, adjacent to Armitage, as though he weren't in the room. 

Armitage's eyes followed Ben's dead-eyed glare to where a spume of bottle-green glass and a purple, brownish muck glistened under the track lights. He then stared reproachfully at the island counter. An uncapped bottle of the same make sat half-drunk. But when Armitage made mention--

"What the fuck about it, Hux? Huh?" Ben snapped. His eyes were alive again, and vividly angry. 

Armitage raised his eyebrows and quickly steered the subject toward the new developments at F.O. Records. The Knights' publicity agent, Gwen, had handled the press as best she could, putting a stopper on the flood of tabloid media, pulling down images and articles and addresses across the net. She was known as Phasma in the industry for her ability to make things disappear. Now, Hux said, only the grainy photo from the Rolling Stone article remained. 

"You're like Bigfoot," Armitage told him, very reassuringly. 

Ben sunk further into the sofa. 

"She's never going to talk to me again," he muttered. The thought hit Ben like a fist to his gut. 

"She--the Johnson girl?" Armitage seemed genuinely surprised (and, Ben thought, a little disheartened. He didn't have the wherewithal to address it just then and opted to leave it alone.) "So that was real, then?"

Ben choked.

"Oh, honestly," Armitage scoffed, dismayed. "Come off it. No one's died and you're rich as the Devil. Just ring her." 

"Make her understand," he went on. "You're scum, and you've always been scum. If she truly likes you, she may forgive you for it." 

Ben hadn't the energy to explain that he'd tried, maybe sixty times. That she'd never picked up. Not once. He sighed miserably and gestured to the shattered black mirror that was once his phone. Armitage hardly bothered to glance, then there--just there--was the same slightly crestfallen expression from earlier. As though he himself were nursing something broken. Ben looked away. 

A few moments of awkward silence passed between them, stretching into several minutes, then several more. Artimage tapped out frantic emails on his tablet, and Ben slumped cross-legged in the corner of the sofa, clutching a cushion against his chest. Wondering whether or not to get up and retrieve that wine--was it wine? He had no idea, actually. It had probably gone sour. Someone had given it to him at a premiere some time ago, and he'd only just opened it yesterday. Or maybe that was Wednesday...

After a beat, Armitage looked up. "Are you trying to get yourself sacked?" 

This riled Ben from his somber reverie. 

"What?" he croaked. Wasn’t he finished? Dead in the water? The band still wanted him? Snoke still wanted him? 

"You haven't gone to rehearsal. I'm talking to Devon* now; he says your custom is collecting dust. Mister DeGraw, Pryde. Hello. Do you want to be fired?" Armitage waved the tablet in front of Ben's face. Ben batted it away.

"Let'em," he growled. "I'd like to see what they come up with without me." 

"You have to play, Solo," Armitage said, resolutely. "Even if you break your contract, you must keep up with it. It's the only thing you have a special talent for, don't fritter it away. You give in to your emotions too easily. It's what got you into this balls-up in the first place."

It was Ben's turn to look surprised. 

"Why, Armie. I didn't know you felt that way. Since when the kriff do you care?" 

Armitage lilted. "If anything happened to you, I'd be out of a job. I won’t work with just anyone, you know."

Ben sniffled, then laughed. Kriff, it felt so good to tell someone about what a complete ogre he was, just to talk to a person! And with the awkward moment well behind them, Armitage bounded up from the couch with a cunning smirk, his face pinked by the revelation of some newfound strategy.  

"You're going to play something for me, Ben," he declared. "We'll see if you're up to code." 

"No" Ben rasped, pressing himself further into the sofa corner (if that were possible.) "God, no. I can't." 

Armitage ignored this and strode off determinedly to find the music room. 

"And," he called back, "if you've still got it, we'll hop in Dolores* and set off to find your Johnson -, not that one, bucket-brain. The lovely girl with the overwrought piano songs. 'She.'"

In the dusty closet grey closet one might call a home studio, Armitage discovered an old Road Runner guitar stand under a sheet. Then he carefully selected a vintage Martin dreadnought and brought it back with him to the living room. The instrument was a 12-string with Brazilian-rosewood back and sides, ivory-bound body and neck, and beautiful fretboard inlays. When Ben saw it, he groaned.

"No. No, and no." He said.

Armitage thrust the instrument at him. 

"Yes! Wait until she sees you. Look at your hair. That mustache. You're utterly pathetic."

Ben grazed his thumb across his chin.  "Should I--Shouldn't I clean up?"

"Why? So she thinks you're getting along jolly well without her? Haven't you lied enough? Show her the mess that you are!" Artimage cried in a mocking, breathy voice. He shoved the Martin at Ben. "Right, well. I've got a request. Please and thanks."

"Norwegian Wood," he demanded, returning to his perch on the sectional. "Now go." 

Ben grumbled at the unwanted guitar Artimage had so graciously shoved into his lap, but he couldn't resist running his fingers along the strings. Eventually, they took up an easy strum, a half-hearted but steady cadence. And, gradually, picked up the tempo, his large, calloused hands moving across the ivory neck. He handled it gently, like a soft, fleshy thing, something he could hold, and hurt. With no options other than to die or sing, Ben chose to sing. 

At first, Armitage kept rhythm with his heel, and Ben leaned into it as he bashed out the chords, his (somewhat leaner) frame hunched over the guitar. He hummed Harrison's famous sitar melody acapella, and on the bridge, in uncommon choice, sung only the harmony. His voice was weighty, and the dreadnought was a little off tune, as he hardly played acoustic these days, and couldn't be bothered with a tuner, and it gave the song a mournful, hazy tenor. 

When Ben finished, the room was quiet with his music, and Artimage Hux's eyes were glittering. 

- ☾ -

It began raining on their way to West Yavin. Armitage plowed Dolores through flash-floods, her shiny red body drove through those oh-so-familiar sheets of rain as the wet-season revealed itself once more, like a young woman peeling off her slip. 

"These people." Artimage huffed, swerving down a hairpin turn. "Learn how to bloody drive!" he yelled at no one in particular. 

"Oh, come on," he moaned when the street light turned yellow. 

Ben was riding shotgun, zipped knee to head in a matte black slicker. Ben turned in towards the window. He could just make out that cafe. What was it? The Wetyin Forester. They were getting closer.

Ben gazed through the windshield wipers forlornly. 

"Armitage," he said quietly. "I don’t want to do this." 

Armitage Hux would hear none of it. Problems of this sort needed to be faced head-on, with precision and promptness, God-willing. They arrived shortly. Artimage sniffed at the pre-war building.

"Can't exactly say I'm gobsmacked," he drawled. "Let me guess; she's the flat with the little white planters?" 

Ben elbowed him, and they went up. The climb to Rey’s apartment was agonizing, every step, every moment, Ben wanted to turn down, go home, or, hopefully, slip and hit his head on the stairs. After a couple of minor detours, they made it to the correct floor and hall; Armitage, scowling, sour-faced, holding his umbrella away from his slacks; Ben, dripping, his fist poised over Rey’s front door for another few horrible moments, until finally, he knocked. 

_____

Devon*: Ben’s bandmate, the drummer. Loosely based on my OC, Draede Ren.

Dolores*: Hux’s Hummer :^) 

edited

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

The Devil in Disguise

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s on the run from escaping a prison where a job went south. Sam is in the wind. With nowhere to go and an injured leg, Dean takes refuge in the only place he could find—an old remote cabin. Normally empty for long stretches, Dean happens to stumble in the same day that the cabin’s owner returns. After a rocky first encounter, Dean comes to believe that a distant connection they share could be the thing that saves his life and gets him back to Sam. But will it happen before Y/N’s finance, a prison guard at Green River, finds the secret she’s hiding in the woods?

A/N: The fic was inspired by the song “The Devil’s Backbone” by The Civil Wars. This is part 1 of ?? written for multiple bingo cards that go for both chapters. Set around S2 (Folson Prison Blues). New tag lists are at the end of the fic. I have tag spots open, let me know if you want to jump on or off for SPN (Dean and/or Sam, or RPF for Jensen)

@spngenrebingo Square filled: Wrong Place Wrong Time

@spndeanbingo Square filled: Cabin in the Woods

Warnings: (Part One): Language, Mild angst, Gunshot wound  

WC: 3.1K

*Banner created by me. I do not own any of these pictures.

Dean bypassed the barbed wire wall without the guards seeing him, but he didn’t have the luxury of the night to hide him forever. Sam had already gotten free, he wasn’t sure how, but he did. Maybe their old friend Deacon had been able to get him through the gates somehow, but at least his little brother was safe. He, on the other hand, still had some running to do and it would be daybreak soon.

The sirens started blaring, a long, whiny cry to alert the rest of the prison and community that they had lost a felon or two. Dean’s heart began racing as he surveyed his very limited options. He had no way to disappear fast enough; no car, no weapon, nothing but his GED and give’em hell attitude. Somehow he had to make those work for him. 

With his back pushed up against the stone wall, he crept along as far as he could. In the distance he could hear the dogs, snarling and foaming at his scent. Despite his labored, nervous breathes mingling with the cold air, he felt himself sweating with anxiety and exhilaration. The rush of adrenaline had set his impulses on fire and made him ready to do whatever he had to do.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, realizing that his only real option was to take a chance and make a break for the treeline. It was a good fifty-yard dash, and regardless of pre-prison his diet of bacon cheeseburgers and six-packs, he was confident that he could make it. The forest was dense enough for him to get lost in, and in that kind of wilderness, he was sure he would shake them.

Dean waited for the spotlight to come back around one last time, and once it passed, he ran like a bat out of hell. He felt the bullet whizz past his head before he heard the echo of the shot. He didn’t hesitate though. Dean ran faster, nearly gone in the tree line before he felt the white-hot heat of the round pierce the calf of his left leg. He immediately stumbled and fell, then cursed at the pain that rippled through his leg as he got back up. The bullet slowed him down, but it didn’t stop him; Dean kept running and didn’t look back.

Time passed, he didn’t know how much exactly, but enough for the sky to become light and the sound of the dog’s barking to fade away completely. He had been running for what felt like miles and stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Dean leaned back against an old maple tree and finally examined his wound where the orange jumpsuit was now soaked with blood. He sighed in relief when he saw two holes in the fabric of the pants, now that he knew the bullet must have gone clean through. Stitches he could handle on his own, fishing out a bullet would be a different story. Still, he had to find a place to hold up, get supplies, food, water… a way to contact Sam. He took another moment to try and calm his breathing, then pushed off the tree and turned west, hoping that would bring him somewhere safe. 

Through a thicket of trees, he spotted a roof peak breaking through the mess red and gold leaves. Dean made his way there, first surveying the outside to see if it was empty or not. When he was sure that there was no one there, he approached cautiously, peeking in windows and looking for a way in that didn’t require breaking any glass. The back door of the cabin opened easily, and he ducked inside. 

The interior of the old place was well kept, and while it was currently empty, it hadn’t been for long. There was no dust or debris, the kitchen was clean and the one-bedroom had a nicely made bed and a bathroom with fresh towels. 

“Shit,” he mumbled and realized he wouldn’t be able to stay for any real length of time. Not that he should, anyway. Dean had been on the run enough times in his life to know you needed to keep moving.  

Making the most of what he had, Dean went through the cabinets and refrigerator looking for supplies. He found a few bottles of cold water and some cans of vegetables in the cabinet. Hunger wasn’t a priority, but he gulped down the water before limping into the bedroom and searching for clothes. Rifling through the drawers, he lucked into a clean pair of dark blue sweatpants and an old gray T-shirt. In the last drawer he opened, he saw the small, gray weapon lockbox and for the first time in a week, felt a genuine smile touch the corner of his mouth. 

Once Dean broke it open, he made sure the wood-handled Ruger inside was loaded and left it on the bed as he tossed his prison orange aside and got changed. Exhaustion was setting in, and the pain from his leg was starting to drain whatever energy he had left. He pulled the shirt over his head and tried to lift his left leg up enough to pull the sweatpants on, but it was enough of a movement to make his ears go fuzzy and black spots to appear before his eyes. Dean knew he was going under, but not even his give’em hell attitude could combat the amount of pain and fatigue that overcame him.

Dean woke sometime later to a distant sound. His long lashes fluttered involuntarily and as his lids slowly opened, his mind tried to discern where he was. He HAD been in prison, but now… flashes of barking dogs, branches slicing at his arms, a bullet piercing his leg. Pain flared loudly at the memory and Dean repressed a guttural groan as he did his best to sit up on the bed, using his right arm to help prop him up and the left hand to grab the gun. 

Another noise; closer now. A door to the cabin slamming shut. Dean was up and off the bed, Ruger in hand, pushing away the pain in his leg and the low rumble of his stomach. His heart was working overtime to pump blood through his body, only adding fuel to the overwhelming rush of adrenaline surging along with it. He went cold, completely willing to do whatever he needed to survive. Civilian or not, if the person standing between him and getting back to his little brother was his only obstacle, if pushed, he would make the hard choice.

Someone was in the kitchen, muttering and moving about. Dean inched closer to the door, tip-toeing in bare feet with the hopes that he wouldn’t creek one of the old floorboards. At the edge of the door frame, he pushed his back against the wall and readied the Ruger, before discreetly peering around the corner of the doorway into the kitchen. 

Dean saw her just as she turned and saw him. He had the gun up, eyes cold and steely against the trembling woman who stared in shock with wide, scared eyes. 

“Shhhh,” Dean warned. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

The long stretch of road was laid out before her, lined with the brightly colored autumn trees. On the radio of her old Jeep, Patsy Cline was crooning about being crazy, and the bite to the air coming in from the driver’s side window made her smile. It had been a month at least since she had driven out to the cabin, and right now, spending a few days out there was just what she needed. Derek had been a bear since he had been put on overtime at work. The night shifts left him even more on edge, and the last fight she had with him was enough to make her want space for a few days. Using her current work in progress, she could at least use the excuse of needing quiet to write. Not that he minded when she said she was leaving. He claimed the overtime was necessary in order to pay for the wedding and it was just easier to do without her home waiting for him. Though, [Y/N] wasn’t dumb. She knew there was more to it, but shoved it aside for the time being. As the twisting roads wound her closer to her forest retreat, she thought it was more probable that the new intake officer, Rita Martin, was the real reason he didn’t fight the extra shifts. 

Arriving at the cabin, she turned the ignition off, pocketed the keys and grabbed her duffle bag along with the box of supplies from the back seat. Kicking the Jeep door shut with her foot, she walked up to the few steps to the porch and across the long stretch of old pine towards the front door. [Y/N] placed the box to the ground and cursed under her breath as the duffle on her shoulder fell quickly forward and knocked a few items out of the box before falling to the porch with a thud. 

She put them back in the box quickly and then lifted up the doormat to grab the spare key that unlocked the front door. It was not a great place to leave it, but she had a terrible habit of forgetting the key to the old place sometimes and didn’t want to get stuck that far out in the woods without being able to get in. She let the door open and then retrieved the box from the ground before entering. 

Standing in the middle of the place, she sighed with relief and the feeling of being there again. It wasn’t the best time in the world to head out that far, but the need to be alone with her thoughts outweighed the need to not get snowed in. 

The small living room was just as she left it, and she was relieved to see that she remembered to leave a good amount of firewood inside already. [Y/N] moved into the kitchen and placed the box of supplies on the round table towards the corner of the room. She turned to the fridge and was talking under her breath, questioning to herself if she had brought enough food. Unsure of how long she was going to stay, [Y/N] brought enough for a long weekend, but knew it could certainly run longer; especially if Derek was going to continue acting like an ogre. 

[Y/N] shrugged off her puffer vest, and turned to hang it on the back of the chair. That’s when she saw the man standing in the doorway of the bedroom off the kitchen. He was wearing Derek’s clothes and had her own Ruger up and targeted right on her chest. The man’s face was dirty, his arms scratched to hell and blotches of blood running through the fabric of the sweatpants on his left leg.  She wanted to scream—her panic begged her to call for help—but her mind knew better. There was no one for miles and doing so may only prompt the strange man to shoot. 

“Shhhh,” he warned.. “I don’t want to hurt you…” 

The man’s face drained to pale, and he swiftly became uneasy on his feet. [Y/N] had a moment where she didn’t know whether to make a run for it or go help the man who was clearly injured and frightened. Yes, he was pointing her own gun at her, but people do crazy things when they feel scared and trapped. 

He looked as if he would topple over from a stiff breeze, and a moment later, nearly did. [Y/N] lunged forward, catching the man’s shoulder and helping to prop him up before he went to the floor. He hadn’t passed out completely, but it was no secret that he was overly exhausted.

[Y/N] moved him towards the bed, as the Ruger slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. Paying it no attention, she was more concerned about the heat that was radiating off his skin. Despite the pallid complexion he currently displayed, the man was burning up. 

Once she got him to the bed, she drew in a deep breath and tried to wrap her head around what was happening. As she turned to go back and pick the gun up off the floor, she noticed the orange jumpsuit off in the corner. Her head snapped around to the man on the bed, who was slowly starting to come around again. Her attention went back to the jumpsuit. She knew what it was; where it was from. [Y/N] had seen enough of them in her day thanks to Derek. 

Bending slowly, [Y/N] picked up the Ruger, and just as she trained it on the man in her bed, he sat up completely, placing a hand to the side of his head and wincing in pain. 

“I’m--I’m sorry,” he grumbled, his throat raspy and cracked. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought the place was empty. Bad timing on my part.”

“Why are you here? Who are you?” she snapped despite the worry she felt for his physical condition. The longer he hesitated, the tighter she gripped the handle of the gun. It took her taking a few steps closer and relocating her aim from his arm, to his head. 

The man put his hands up in defense and tried to stand. “Alright! Alright!” he shouted. “I’m Dean Winchester, okay? I got shot and needed a place to hold up. That’s all. I thought the place was empty!”

He managed to keep his balance for a moment, but his calf betrayed him and buckled his knees, bringing back down to the bed. 

“Shot. How? By who?” she asked, her (y/c) eyes narrowing on him suspiciously. “Don’t give me that bullshit hunting accident story either, I see the orange jumper. I know where you’re from.”

As if on queue, a burst of static came from a distant place out from somewhere else in the cabin. It was quickly followed by a jumbled voice, but it was too far away to make any kind of sense. 

“What the hell is that?” he asked, the fever becoming more present on his face as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing. 

“My CB. No cell service out here. It’s the only way to reach the cabin. I haven’t seen the wound there yet,” she nodded towards his leg, but kept her eyes trained on his, “but I can tell you it's getting infected. Now, I have supplies that will help, but first, you tell me what happened.”

His face drew into a frustrated scowl, one that told her he realized how cornered he was and that truth was his only way out. Dean sighed in resignation as his shoulders slumped. “I was in prison. Found a way out. Got shot running away.”

“What were you in for?” she asked, but with much less bite than before. 

“B ‘n E… maybe a few other things,” he muttered. “But, I got myself locked up on purpose. I wasn’t supposed to actually be there.” He snorted a laugh and shook his head; even he seemed surprised by what he was admitting.

[Y/N] lowered the gun from him momentarily to try and process what he had just said. She couldn’t put the pieces together in her head and raised the Ruger again. “You need to explain better than that, Dean Winchester. I’m not someone you can lie to easily. I grew up a Preacher’s daughter, so I can smell bullshit from a hundred miles.”

Dean raised his eyebrows considering her reply and nodded. “Yeah, well. I’m not lying. What I do… my brother and I--”

“Your brother? Is he here too?” she asked, an edge of nerves lacing her question.

“No, he got out the right way. He should be safe.”

“The right way? What the Hell does that mean?”

“We had a plan, okay? Once the job was done inside, Deacon was helping us to get out.”

“Deacon? You mean, Deacon Kaylor?”

Dean’s face lit up. “Yeah, you know him?” 

“Yeah,” she replied hesitantly and once again, lowered the Ruger. 

“If I were to radio Deacon, and pass your name along to him… what would he say, exactly? What kind of job were you doing that required you to break into prison only to have to break out again?”

“He’d say just what I told you, that I didn’t belong there and vouch that he was trying to help us get out. As for the job, well, that’s a whole other story.”

“Good thing I’ve got time.” She was curious, but also leary of the green-eyed stranger currently bleeding on her grandmother’s favorite quilt. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t, sweetheart. You weren’t kidding about my leg, it hurts like hell and I can’t imagine it looks real pretty. I’ve answered your questions. Maybe you could come through on those supplies now? If not, I’m not gonna be conscious enough to answer anything.”

[Y/N] considered his point and nodded reluctantly, then tucked the gun in the back of her jeans, and covered it with her shirt. 

“Alright. Sit tight, they’re out in the other room. But… try one thing… make one move where I feel threatened, and I promise you, that leg will be the least of your worries.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean held up his hands in relent as she walked past where he sat on the bed and back out into the kitchen. 

[Y/N]’s mind was racing, trying to know what the right thing to do was. Should she call Deacon? Check up on this man who claimed to be innocent of whatever crimes had gotten him locked up? What could this job possibly be that he mentioned? Something was strange here, she could feel that in her gut, but she could also feel that he wasn’t lying. That line about spotting a liar a mile away wasn’t wrong. Growing up with Preacher Steve as a father had forced her to become quite attuned to bald-face lies, subtle ones, too. For Preacher Steve was as big of a liar as they came. Yet every Sunday, he stood on that pulpit and scared the people of Green River County into believing each and every one of his lies.

She was rummaging through the box just as the CB came to life again from the base it sat on in the living room. As [Y/N] walked slowly towards it, through the cracks of static and interference, she could hear the call being intercepted from the radio at the prison: ‘BOL: manhunt continues for the missing Green River, prisoner DEAN WINCHESTER...’

SPN Tags: @kazosa // @wings-of-a-raven // @closetspngirl // @idreamofplaid// @screechingartisancashbailiff // @linki-locks11 // @winchesterxfamilybusiness// @spnhollis // @sandlee44 // @stoneyggirl // @clarinette07 // @negans-wife // @deans-baby-momma // @hobby27 // @breereadsthings // @katehuntington // @81mysteriouslyme // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @deathofmissjackson // @lauravic // @aomi-nabi // @akshi8278 // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare// @coffeebooksandfandom // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @his-paradox // @adoptdontshoppets // @blackcherrywhiskey // @babypieandwhiskey // @lefthologramdeer // @maddiepants

[letmeletmetrashyourlove]

Lucky

Ben!Roger 

Author’s Note: Another part? Maybe? Probably? If you like it? 

I groaned to myself as I flung the pillow that was once over my head across my bedroom and against the wall I shared with my neighbor. He seemed to have no regard for the fact that other people lived in this apartment building and was up at all hours on his drum set.

It was 4:30 am, and I had to be up in three hours to go to work. It was the last straw. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rested my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. Another groan escaped my lips as I stood up, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders. I yanked my front door open and stomped over next door. My other neighbor, Charlotte, was on the same page. She’s a 97-year-old woman who invited me in for dinner every once in a while. One of the sweetest women I had ever met, yet she had fire in her eyes as she stepped out into the hallway.

      “I got it, Charlotte,” I told her, shooing her back into her apartment.

She muttered something to herself about an entitled asshole before slamming her door shut.

I pounded on the door with both fists, but it was to no avail.

      “Hey! Asshole! Hey! Open the fucking door!” I screamed, continuing to hit the door.

Nothing.

      “I swear to fucking god,” I muttered to myself before taking the bold move to reach for the handle on the door. To my surprise, it was unlocked. I swung the door open hard enough for the handle to hit the door behind it. The culprit was sitting behind his drum kit, a cigarette hanging from his lips with several empty beer bottles on the surrounding floor. Despite the fact that I had just broken into his apartment, he was still playing.

Since shouting hadn’t worked before, I reached for the light switch, turning it off an on a couple times.

      “What the bloody hell!?” He exclaimed as his gaze finally met mine.

      “You’re asking me that?” I hollered, “It’s 4 in the fucking morning, mate! What the fuck are you doing?”

      “Is it?” He asked himself, glancing at the clock, “Christ, sorry. Must’ve lost track of time.”

      “Our neighbor is 97 fucking years old, you’re gonna give her a heart attack and I’ve got to be up in 3 fucking hours so I’d appreciate it if you quit until then,” I growled, grabbing the door and slamming it behind me as I stepped out into the hallway.

I trudged back into bed, falling asleep once more as soon as I hit the mattress. I awoke again at 7:30 to the sound of my alarm clock. I swung wildly at my nightstand until I hit the snooze button. 8:30 rolled around, the sound of drums now continuing in the apartment next door. I silently thanked my noisy neighbor, if he hadn’t started playing again, I would’ve been late for work. I cursed to myself as I sprung out of bed and fumbled trying to get on the dress I had draped over my chair the night before. I slipped on my boots and staggered towards my front door, nearly tripping over the cup that was sitting on my doormat. I squinted, leaning down to pick it up along with a note scribbled on a paper napkin that was tucked under it.

      “Sorry for last night. Maybe this will wake you up. -Roger”

It was from the cafe across the road from the apartment complex. They marked the cup as a coffee with one cream and two sugars. Not exactly the way I would normally take it, but I scooped it up anyway, taking a sip as I scrambled to the elevator. I recoiled after taking a sip, finding it was cold. He must’ve put it there a while ago.

I groaned to myself as I stepped into the elevator. I had gotten screamed at by my boss for being late for work, got soaking wet in the rain on the way home and slipped on the floor in the lobby. I stepped out of my shoes as I reached my apartment, disgust running through me at the sensation of my wet socks. As I dug for my keys in my purse, my neighbor’s door opened.

I glanced over at him,

      “Maybe I should grab my umbrella.” He commented, a grin on his face as he looked me up and down.

      “Probably.” I retorted, cramming the keys into the lock, “Thanks for the coffee, by the way.”

      “Yeah, no problem, no problem.” He grinned, turning around to lock his door behind him, “I just uh, ordered what I get since I wasn’t sure how you take it.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks flushing.

      “No cream, three sugars,” I informed, feeling a slight grin tug at my lips.

      “Got it.”

I opened the door to my apartment, stepping in. Just as I was about to close it behind me, Roger’s face appeared in the doorway.

      “I never got your name.”

      “Y/N,” I replied, sticking my hand out for him to shake.

He gladly took it, giving it a firm squeeze with both hands.

      “I’m uh, heading down to the bar on Pike street. My bands playing tonight, maybe stop by? You look like you could use a drink.”

I let out a soft laugh, tucking my hair behind my ear and nodding my head,

      “I just hope you sound better there than you do at 4am.” I quipped.

He scoffed, mouth hung open as he thought of a rebuttal. Before he could respond, I closed the door in his face. I couldn’t deny that he was cute, now that my mind wasn’t clouded with sleep and anger. The reality was that I wanted nothing more than to fall into bed, but I figured it was the least I could do for breaking into his apartment and screaming at him. Especially when he had been nice enough to bring me coffee.

I yanked off all of my wet clothes, tossing them over the shower curtain rod to dry out before I put on something more presentable. I glanced in the bathroom mirror, noting that what little makeup I had managed to put on before work had melted down my cheeks. I did my best to remove the smears before throwing on a bit more. The red lipstick that sat at the bottom of my drawer was calling my name, so I popped off the cap and swiped the color over my lips, pursing them together before throwing the tube into my bag.

I slipped my feet into a dry pair of boots, letting out a sigh as I stepped back out into the hallway, once again locking my door.

Charlotte had just gotten off the elevator.

      “Where are you headed?” She questioned, putting a hand on her hip.

      “To see a uh… friend’s... band.”

Her other hand came to rest on her hip as she nodded towards Roger’s door.

      “That friend?”

      “Maybe?”

      “He’s a troublemaker, you know. Has a different woman in there every other night.”

      “Have you been snooping again, Charlotte?” I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest. Although, I couldn’t ignore the slight sinking feeling in my chest when she said those words.

      “Absolutely not!” She defended.

      “Uh-huh. Sure.” I retorted, stepping past her.

      “Don’t do anything stupid!” She hollered after me as I stepped into the elevator.

I rolled my eyes, giving her a wave as the doors closed. My arms remained crossed over my chest as I tapped a beat onto my bicep, nervousness setting in. I silently cursed Charlotte for telling me about all of his suitors, but I suppose it was better to find out now rather than later. Later. As if this was something that would happen again. Something I wanted to happen again. Hell, it could’ve just been a friendly gesture I was looking too far into. But then again, he did blush while I was talking to him.

I shook my head, stepping out of the elevator. I had the sense to grab my umbrella before I left this time. I popped it open just ask I stepped out onto the sidewalk; the breeze threatening to rip it from my grasp.

I braced myself against the wind as I strolled down the street, the sound of shouting and music pumping told me I had arrived. The awning protected me from the rain as I put my umbrella down, giving it a shake to get off the excess water. I stepped inside to realize the music wasn’t live yet and the band was on stage setting up their equipment.

I managed to weasel my way to the front of the crowd, much to the annoyance of everybody in the bar. I took a seat at a high top, shrugging off my coat and draping it over the back of my chair.

Roger sat behind the drum kit, twisting various knobs and raising and lowering various parts. The other men, who I assumed were the rest of the band, fumbled with their mic stands and their own instruments. I realized I was staring when Roger glanced up from what he was doing. His face lit up when he saw me, though he quickly tried to hide it as he gave me a causal wave. Every other member of the band turned to look at me as well, making my face flush. They all squinted at me in an attempt to see me despite the lights that shined onto the stage. I waved up at them. The man who I assumed was the singer beamed at me, waving. They muttered something I couldn’t hear to Roger. Even though I didn’t quite catch what he said, I read his lips. And he clearly told them to fuck off.

I left my coat behind as I wandered to the bar, grabbing whatever the cheapest beer on the menu was before retreating from the drunks to go back to my seat. By this point, the band was getting ready to play. They introduced themselves as Smile. The taller man with the wildly curly hair introduced the singer as Freddie and the bass player as John. I watched diligently through their set, taking an occasional sip from my disgustingly bitter beer. My eyes were drawn to Roger almost the entire time. He was intently focused just like I had seen him in his apartment the night before.

I was just as intently focused on the band, so much so I didn’t notice a rather large man take a seat beside me. That was, until he touched my shoulder. I nearly swung my beer bottle at him, but stopped when he put his hands up in defence.

      “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you!”

      “Then maybe don’t touch people you don’t know.” I snapped, recoiling and scooting my chair away from his.

      “Maybe I’d like to get to know you.” He smirked, reaching his arm to wrap around the back of my chair. I rolled my eyes. He seemed far to confident which told me he either was shitfaced or just an asshole.

My expression must’ve been giving away my disgust more than I intended it to, because he let out a slight growl as he crossed his arm and reclined in his chair. I kept my eye on him the rest of the night; he didn’t seem like one to give up easily.

After the set was over, the band came up to the front of the stage and bowed before introducing the next band that would be playing. They then trotted off stage. Roger, John, and the man who’s name I still didn’t know retreated behind the stage. However, Freddie came immediately over.

      “Hello love! How are you!? You look lovely!” He beamed, bouncing over eagerly and wrapping me up in a hug. It confused me for a moment until he whispered in my ear,

      “I don’t like the look of that guy.”

I’m glad that it wasn’t just my paranoia getting the best of me and that somebody else had noticed his offputting presence. 

      “Freddie! I am lovely, thank you! How are you!?” I exclaimed, pulling out of the hug and resting my hands on his biceps as I stared at him warmly.

His gaze matched my warmth,

      “Oh, just fantastic, darling. Just fantastic. Come now, I want you to meet the rest of the band.” He took my hand and led me through the crowd.

      “Thanks.” I smiled when we were out of sight, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

      “I already know that, love.” He grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Had Roger mentioned me before? 

He led me through a crowded corridor before we reached the back of the bar where the rest of the band leaned against their van. It looked like it was on its last legs; the bumper rusted and the smell of fumes radiating even though it wasn’t even running.

      “Fred, where d'you disappear to?” Roger asked, muffled by the cigarette that hung from his lips.

I peered out from behind Freddie,

      “Hey.” I murmured.

      “You made it!” Roger’s lips slowly curled into a smile, “What d'you think?”

      “Definitely better than 4am.” I replied, “You guys are really good.”

He let out a soft chuckle, taking a drag from the cigarette before offering it over. I politely declined.

      “You going to introduce us to your friend, Fred?” The curly haired man asked, taking a swig from his beer.

      “Actually, she’s Roger’s friend.” Freddie insisted, pulling me out from behind him and all but throwing me to stand beside Roger. My shoulder bumped into his as I regained my balance. Roger shot his friend a lethal stare.

      “Oh please. All you were yapping about during practice was this cute girl that screamed in your face last night.”

Roger went bright red, even redder than he was in the hallway earlier.

      “Oh, you’re Y/N.” The curly haired man said, rocking back on his heels and shooting Roger a look. “Brian.”

      “Nice to meet you.” I smiled. I found myself growing more and more shy when I realized that Roger had not only mentioned me to the band, but had been talking about me enough for them to remember my name. 

We all stood in silence for a few moments, the only sound the rain beating on the awning.

      “Are we all going to stand here and stare at each other or are we going somewhere to get drinks?” Freddie broke the silence.

      “They’ve got drinks here.” Roger said, tipping the neck of his beer bottle towards the bar.

      “No, not here.”

      “Why?”

      “I made a not so friendly friend in there.” I replied, taking the cigarette from Roger’s fingers and taking a puff.

Roger’s posture straightened up as he glared towards the back door to the pub.

      “Relax, lover-boy. I handled it.” Freddie quipped, “You’re welcome.”

      “My knight in shining armor.”  I grinned at him, his brown eyes glistening in the streetlights.

Roger scoffed, taking his cigarette back, taking one last puff before stamping it out on the wet pavement.

      “You two live in this neighborhood, where do you go for a drink?” Brian asked, looking between Roger and I.

      “Here.” We both answered at the same time, making a grin grow across both of our faces.

      “Besides, I can’t go with you guys-”

The boys all let out a groan,

      “Why not?” Freddie whined.

      “I’m exhausted. And if I’m late for work again tomorrow, I’m pretty sure my boss will behead me in his office in front of everybody.” I joked.

      “Well then, that’s not a job you want to have anyway, is it?” Freddie questioned.

      “Not particularly, no. But I also need to pay rent.”

      “Well, if you can’t afford your apartment anymore, I’m sure one of your neighbors would love to take you in.” Freddie said.

Once again, Roger shot him a threatening stare.

      “Come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun!” Freddie insisted, bouncing on his toes.

      “Alright, alright. Fine. One drink.” I resigned.

      “What about that pub on Meadows?” John suggested.

      “That place is a total bore.” Freddie retorted.

      “But the food is really good.” I had suddenly realized that I hadn’t eaten yet today. I had been in such a hurry to leave I didn’t get breakfast and I worked straight through lunch to catch up.

      “The lady has spoken.” Roger spoke up, the first real input he’d had in the conversation.

      “Shotgun!” John shouted as he sprinted for the van’s front door. Brian was already diving towards the driver’s seat, leaving Freddie, Roger, and I to sit on top of the equipment boxes in the van's rear.

I sat between the boys on the bumpy ride, our shoulders bumping into each other often. Freddie’s voice filled my ears as he went on and on about each member of the band, especially Roger. Though I wasn’t exactly listening, my exhaustion was catching up with me. I let out a yawn,

      “Fred, you’re boring this poor woman to death.” Roger interjected.

      “Huh?” I perked up, looking between the two boys, “Oh this? No, this is your fault.” I retorted, pointing at the blonde man.

      “Sorry.” He suddenly went bashful again.

If it weren’t for the rain, we could’ve walked to the pub, it was only a block over. But we all piled out of the van, scurrying with our heads ducked down into the bar. The music wasn’t nearly as loud here, the only sound was the squeak of a rag against the wet dishes that the bartender was putting away. There were maybe five other people there, all older men sitting alone with a cigar hanging from their lips.

      “Drinks on me!” Freddie hollered, running to the bar ahead of everybody else. He hurriedly leaned over the bar and gave the tender his order. When the rest of us stepped up, he shooed us away.

      “I ordered for you.” He told us.

We decided to sit at a table instead of the bar, so we all piled into a booth. I climbed in first followed by Roger and John. Freddie and Brian sat across from us looking between Roger and I expectantly.

I wanted to know exactly what Roger had said to them for them to be acting like such big pains in the ass. I didn’t mind, though. Roger was quite fit, and the fact that he was embarrassed by the whole situation made him that much more endearing.  

The bartender brought our drinks to the table for us, quickly followed by the food. Freddie had ordered one of everything off the appetizer menu as well as cosmos for everybody.

      “Really, Fred?” Roger questioned, glaring down at the pink beverage that was sitting in front of him.

      “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Freddie retorted, reaching for the glass. Roger smacked his hand away, bringing the beverage to his lips and taking a huge gulp. I all but ignored mine as I grabbed the basket of chips and started stuffing them into my mouth. I’m sure I looked like a rabid animal. Nobody else seemed to care though, we were all reaching across each other for various things.

The boys all descended into their own conversation as I took the first sip of my drink. Something about how they should add a guitar solo in this bit of a song and how maybe the bass could be stronger in that bit. I don’t think he’d realized that he’d done it, but at some point during the conversation he had thrown his arm around my shoulder. After much interrogation about my job, my relationship status, my family, and so on and so on, everybody had seemed to wind down a bit.

I glanced at the neon-lit clock that hung over the bar, it was already well past midnight. I sighed, wiping my hands on a napkin before setting it in the center of my empty plate.

      “I really should get going.”  

      “Thanks for spending time with us, love.” Freddie beamed at me as we all filed out of the booth.

      “Thanks for dinner and drinks.” I returned.

On the stroll back out to the van, Roger's arm came to rest around my shoulders once more. I glanced over to see him staring down at me. I offered a small smile in return, leaning into his side a bit more.

We all piled in, once again leaving me to sit between Roger and Freddie on the equipment boxes. The streets were much quieter now; it was a weekday night, after all. Even the college kids had made their way back to their dorms by now. Which I was silently thankful for because Brian was certainly in no shape to drive with other cars and pedestrians on the road. Thankfully, it was only a couple of blocks to the apartment complex.

The van came to a sudden halt, making the three of us lurch forward, nearly sliding off the equipment boxes. Roger reached his arm out in front of me to keep me from flying off my seat,

      “Christ, Brian, who taught you to drive?” He snapped.

Brian watched us in the rear-view mirror, a sly grin across his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

      “This is your stop.” Brian replied.

Roger muttered something under his breath as he reached for the handle on the door, helping me step out onto the sidewalk. As I straightened my coat, he leaned his head in the door and growled something under his breath to the boys who all burst out into laughter. He shot them the middle finger as they drove away.

      “Sorry about them.” He said as he turned to me.

We strolled shoulder to shoulder into the apartment building,

      “What for? I love them.” I grinned.

      “Yeah, me too, but they’re a pain in my arse.” He grumbled, pressing the elevator button.

It dinged as it reached our level; the door opening to reveal Charlotte standing there.

      “Where the hell are you going at this time of night?” I questioned.

      “That’s none of your concern.” She quipped, giving me a disapproving once over when she realized who was standing beside me.

      “Not a word.” I sassed, pointing a finger at her.

She hummed to herself as she walked past me. Roger watched her walk away as we stepped into the elevator.

      “Who’s that?”

      “Charlotte, the woman who lives across the hall from you.”

      “Ah.” He nodded, sticking his hands into his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels uncomfortably.

      “She doesn’t like you very much.” I informed, glancing over at him.

He burst out a slight laugh,

      “I gathered that. If looks could kill…” He trailed off as we reached our floor.

We both fumbled in our pockets for our keys, getting them at the same time and unlocking our doors. He turned to look at me just as I turned to look at him, both of our mouths open as if we were about to say something.

      “I-” I began, only to stop when he began to speak.

      “D-” He paused, realizing he had interrupted me, “Do you want to come in?”

My gaze flitted to my feet, holding it there for a few moments as I anxiously tucked my hair behind my ears,

      “I-uh… Not this time.” I replied.

      “This time?” He grinned, “There’ll be another time?”

A devilish smile appeared on his lips as his eyes lit up.

      “If you let me get some sleep tonight, maybe.” I replied.

      “Sounds good.” He murmured as I stepped into my apartment and closed the door.

I slipped out of my coat and shoes, not bothering to put them away in the closet before I got in bed. I flopped down face first, glad to have some new friends, but so… so… so tired.

I awoke in the same position I fell asleep in once again in a panic over the threat of being late for work. I straightened the dress I had worn the night before and sprayed a little more perfume than I normally would, hoping it would hide the smell of sweaty bar patrons and cigar smoke.

I opened my front door to see Roger standing there with two coffees, just about to lean over and put it on the front mat like he had done yesterday.

      “Three sugars, no cream?” He asked, holding it out to me with a slight grin.

      “Exactly.” I took the cup from him, “Love to chat, but I’m gonna be late again.”

I scurried past him, turning back once I reached the elevator to see him standing in front of his door.  

      “See you tonight?” He asked, “Just us this time?” 

      “If you’re lucky.” I replied as the doors closed.

[onlystylesangels]

Precious Y/N

Requested From: @mypetgreenturtle14

Prompt: Harry x reader. He rubs their clit to relieve them

Warnings: Smut!! Fluff, angst?

Word Count: +4k

A/N: Yeah, I think I went a little overboard with her. Enjoy my loves!

P.S: I also changed it a bit. It’s the reader’s birthday, because it’s my birthday, so yea. Enjoy!

Y/N was home, gathering her clothes and taking them to the washer. She has been cleaning up her small apartment since she woke up.

 Y/N didn’t really have anything planned for the day, but she was sure that she was going to finish cleaning up her apartment and treat herself to some binge-watching.

Once Y/N has finished folding her lavender scented clothes, she goes to the living room and turns on the television so she could watch another episode of Friends. She prepared herself nachos and made herself a smoothie. 

  Y/N had no intentions going anywhere. It was her birthday, so she had an excuse to go out and party with some friends. But this year was not that. She wanted to treat herself and that was her birthday. Something simple and comforting.

    **//**

 Harry was at a studio recording some songs. He promised Y/N that he was going to come by and he had no idea that it was her birthday. He was too busy thinking about songs, lyrics… he forgot all about her.

 Granted, he was planning to surprise her and take her to restaurant that would allow them to sightsee and see the beautiful, illuminating stars that stared down at them. But he couldn’t just ask one of his close friends to shut down his restaurant just for him and Y/N. It was too late.

 So once Harry was out of the studio, he went off running to a local floral shop praying to god that it was still open at this hour. He prayed that he could just get one thing right tonight, just one thing right, and he will go to her, hug her, kiss her, do whatever to show that he didn’t forget her birthday.

Harry arrived to the floral shop just in time, the elderly woman was just about to lock up her little shop and call a night, but Harry convinced her to open it back up so he could purchase Y/N’s favorite flowers.

“You better have a good excuse for me to keep my shop open.” The elderly woman responded. “Which flowers would you want?”

 “I apologize. It’s my girl’s birthday. I forgot that her birthday was today, I was too busy think’ ‘bout my work.” Harry looked down, his hands tucked in the pockets of his worn-out brown coat.

“I know how it feels, love. Once you’re too busy thinking about yourself, you forget everything about anyone around you.” The woman made herself to the display of flowers that were enclosed.

“Do you know which flowers she likes?”

Harry pointed to the bundle of flowers that reminded him of Y/N. “Those right there.”

The woman walked to the bouquet of flowers and wrapped them with tissue paper and finally covering them with a plastic sleeve.

“There you go, love.” The woman handed Harry the beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Thank you, ma’am.” Harry grabbed the bouquet flowers from the old woman’s delicate hands and dug in his pockets to grab his money. “Here. Keep the change.”

“No. It’s on me, love. Go home and celebrate your girl’s birthday.”

“Please, ma’am take the money. You have already done enough fo’ me by not closin’ up your shop.”

“Keep it. You can use that money to get her something.” The woman handed Harry his money, setting it on his palm, closing his palm with her small hands. “My treat.”

 Harry went around the counter embracing the elderly woman into his arms. “Thank you so much, ma’am. You don’t know how much I appreciate all of this.”

“Please, call me Penny. And it’s my pleasure-“

“Harry.” Harry responded back.

“It’s a pleasure Harry. Now get outta here, go to your lucky woman.” Penny smiled, as Harry hugged her one last time and rushed to a nearby bakery that was Y/N’s favorite.

Once Harry got the little cake and candles. He was running off to a shop that was Y/N’s favorite shop to go whenever she was trying to find some new jewelry.

 Once Harry arrived to the store, he saw no life to the small store. Jewelry displayed but no lights hitting their jealous jewels. It was just a lonely place with jewels begging to be worn.

“Damnit.” He said under his breath.

 He was giving up. He got the flowers, the cake, and the candles. But he was going to Y/N emptyhanded without the necklace that she has wanted for so long now. A silver necklace that was shaped as a bird locket. She told Harry that she wanted it for her birthday or for Christmas. Why she loved that necklace, Harry had no idea why she liked it. She liked it more than the necklace that was adorned with pearls, and the price was more than what the bird locket cost.

  Harry dragged his legs along the lonely sidewalk. It was just him and his thoughts that surrounded the crosswalk. Him feeling defeated by the curse of the late hours and the curse and the curse of him not remembering Y/N’s special day. He wondered, what was Y/N doing. Did she go out with her friends or did she went shopping herself, and treating herself with a body massage or spending her time alone at home. He hoped she didn’t stay alone.

  **//**

 Once Harry stepped foot on the doormat of Y/N’s apartment, he rummaged through his pockets of his jacket he retrieved the keys and unlocked the old, creaky door. He kept forgetting to get her a new door, but Y/N would always say that it was still good enough and that he shouldn’t waste his money on a door.

 Harry stepped in the warm, cozy little place and took off his dirty brown boots to the side.

“Darlin’? Y/N, love. I’m sorry I came late, I was held up at the studio, I jus-“ Harry walked into the living room and saw Y/N snuggled in a fuzzy blanket, her hair adorning her beautiful face and her body curled up.

When Harry set the bouquet of flowers down on the coffee table, he sat on the edge of the couch, carefully making himself comfortable so he could avoid waking up her little angel.

But before he started to get a blanket to cover himself, he felt Y/N wake up from her slumber and rub her eyes, letting out a yawn.

“Mmm. Harry?”

“Hi, love.” Harry whispered. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya.”

“No. Just taking a nap, that’s all.” Y/N continued to rub her eyes, but she stopped and sat up and cuddled with Harry. “It’s late. You didn’t call, Harry.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, darlin’. I was just caught up at the studio and I forgot to call you and I forgot it was your birthday, but then I looked at my calendar and realized that today was your birthday it was jus-“

Y/N shushed him by putting her soft finger on his lips. “It’s okay, Harry. It wasn’t your fault. You get busy when you’re at the studio and I see it everyday how exhausted you are when you come back home. You don’t have to worry, love.”  Y/N hugged Harry, making him feel better, but he was still guilty for not getting her anything and that was something that he wouldn’t ever forgive himself.

Harry grabbed Y/N’s hand and led them to the kitchen where he left the small cake in the refrigerator.

“I didn’t get ya anythin’ but I got you a small cake and some flowers. It’s not much, but I had to get you somethin’, darlin’.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes still sleepy. “Thank you, Harry. But I’m tired. Can we eat it tomorrow?”

Harry’s smile dropped, his dimples no longer showing. His eyes looking down at the little cake that he was holding in one hand and the candles in the other.

“Yea- We can eat it tomorrow, love. Whatever you wish, Y/N.”

 Harry covered the cake and put it back in the fridge, setting the candles in a kitchen drawer. He walked to the living room and grabbed the flowers unwrapping them from the tissue paper and putting them in a vase, feeding the beautiful flowers their water and plant food.

When Harry finished fixing up the flowers he walked himself to Y/N’s bedroom, already seeing her body lying down, covered with the bed sheets.

His head was bowed down, letting out a sigh. He was feeling too guilty. He missed Y/N’s birthday, and she was too tired to actually celebrate it, and he couldn’t blame her. She was probably exhausted from celebrating it with her friends, and he wasn’t there to be with her to celebrate it. He felt selfish.

 Harry washed himself off, took of his clothes, only leaving him with his boxers.

“Goodnight, love.” He said, but there was no answer that replied back. Just soft breathing leaving her precious lips, nothing but breathing and the heavy light coming from the energized moon.

       **//**

 Harry woke up from his deep slumber. He saw that Y/N was still in bed, sound asleep so he sat up, tiptoeing his way towards the door of the bedroom.

 When Harry brought himself to the kitchen, he started to prepare breakfast. He didn’t even hesitate in dressing himself in clothes, he was cooking with only his boxers on.  

 Harry mixed the batter of the pancakes and cooked some eggs. Harry knew with the smell of the pancakes and eggs would eventually wake Y/N from her slumber, so he tried to hurry because he didn’t want her to wake up before he was done.

 When the breakfast was warm and ready to eat, Harry grabbed the breakfast tray and set the food and finished up with a mini vase adorned with the flowers that Harry got her yesterday.

 Harry carried the tray, tiptoeing towards the bedroom. Y/N was tossing around in the bed, smelling the aroma of the pancakes and syrup. She wasn’t going back to sleep now that her stomach demanded food to consume.

 “Harry.” Y/N said quietly, her voice still drowsy.

“Hi, darlin’. I got ya some breakfast. Your favorite.” Harry said, as he leaned over to plant a kiss on Y/N’s forehead. “I’ll eat with ya if you want.”

“Thank you, Harry. And of course. Eat with me.”

 Y/N and Harry both ate their breakfast in bed. They laughed they fed each other pieces of their pancake and Harry joking that she ate his last pancake.

“Sorry, love. I couldn’t resist your pancakes.” Y/N smiled, as Harry embraced her and told her that it was okay of her to take his last pancake.

He would do anything for Y/N. Feed her his last pancake, give her his sweater whenever she looked cold. Or that one time that he told her to take his car so she could hang out with her friends. Harry had to go to the studio that day, but he cancelled it so Y/N could hang out with her friends and he wanted her to spend time with them. He didn’t want Y/N to take an uber. He never wanted to imagine anything happen to her, so he protected her as much as he could.

   When Harry and Y/N finished their breakfast, Harry washed all the dishes and told Y/N that he was going out for a bit, because he forgot to add one last piece to a song he was making back at the studio.

 So he left. Leaving Y/N alone once again.

 Y/N couldn’t blame him. Harry did have a job to go to everyday and it was something that she wouldn’t tell him to not go.

 Once Y/N finished showering, she went to the kitchen and put away the clean dishes that Harry washed. When she was about to clean the counters, she heard keys play with the locket of the doorknob.

Her head stuck out to see Harry carrying a little blue bag filled with tissue paper.

“Harry, You came back. What’s th-“

“Darlin’ I forgot to get you somethin’ for your birthday. I went to that little shop where you saw that necklace that you liked, but it was closed and I didn’t want to make you feel sad ‘bout not getting’ a present, so I went-“

“Harry.” Y/N walked towards the door, caressing Harry’s cheek. “Harry. I don’t care if you didn’t get me a present. All I cared was spending time with you. That’s what matters to me.”

“I know, love. But I felt guilty for not getting you a present and I forgot it was your birthday yesterday. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 Y/N never realized that Harry forgot her birthday. She just thought that he was running late to get to the studio. She just thought that he forgot to wish her a ‘happy birthday’ and that maybe later he was going to call her and wish her then, but he never called. A phone call that she was wishing to get, but nothing but a silent, speechless phone.

 “You forgot? I thought you were going to call when you were at the studio.” Y/N said quietly.

“I know, love. But I forgot to call during break, but I was fixing up this song and-- that shouldn’t be my excuse. I’m sorry, love.” Harry murmured. He ran a hand through his hair, showing discomfort.

Y/N sighed out, grabbing Harry’s hand. As she looked into his beautiful hues of green eyes.

“Darlin’, I’m not angry that you forgot my birthday and I get it, your busy and I get why you forgot. It’s okay, you shouldn’t feel guilty of anything.” Y/N assured him. His face still looking gloomy, his thumb caressing the skin of her hand.

“I know. But it feels terrible. I should be the one to celebrate it. Give you mornin’ kisses. I should be the one takin’ you out to a restaurant. But no, I was too busy with my problems and ignoring everything about you.”

Y/N took Harry’s hand and led them to the living room. They both sat down, Y/N still holding onto Harry’s hand which was adorned with rings. And Harry still looking down at their intertwined hands.

“Harry, I’m not mad. Look. I’m not frowning, I’m smiling, honey.” Y/N explained.

Y/N’s eyes were about to brim with little tears. She was devastated. She hated seeing Harry sad or gloomy. She always wanted Harry to be a cheerful little soul, she wanted him to be happy. She never wants to see gloomy frown on his beautiful angelic face. It was something she has hated ever since they began dating.

“It still feels bad.”

Y/N took the bag from his hand that he has been holding onto dear life and sets it down on the coffee table. She leans towards him and instead of kissing his heart-shaped, pink lips. She tickled his tummy, instantly making Harry laugh. Y/N’s favorite sound that came out of his mouth. Tears almost begging to leave Harry’s squinted eyes.

“Okay, okay, okay. S-s-stop love.”

Y/N obliged and sat back down on her original spot.

“You happy now?” Y/N smiled.

Harry nodded. Giving Y/N a small peck to the lips.

“Now open this. I want to see how it looks on ya, yea?”

Y/N took the little blue bag and carefully took the tissue paper out one piece at a time. Once all the tissue paper was out, all that was left was a small red box with a littler silver bow wrapped around it.

She opens the little box and realizes the familiar silver necklace that she showed Harry once and told him that she liked very much. A bird locket, the necklace feeling too delicate she didn’t dare lay a finger onto the gorgeous silver necklace that she fell so in love with.

“Can you put it on me, Harry?” She asked, handing him the small box.

“Of course, love.”

Harry wrapped his fingers around the delicate piece of jewelry, unclasping the necklace and bringing it in front of her neck and clasping it.

Harry set his hands on Y/N’s shoulders and pecked her cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

“Harry. It’s gorgeous! Did I ever tell you why I liked this necklace?”

Harry nodded.

“I liked it because the little bird reminded me of your swallows that are on your chest. So whenever I’m wearing it I will always have you near me, no matter how far we are from each other.”

“C’mere, love.” Harry said, as his arms were open for her to embrace him. “I love you so much, Y/N. You don’t know how much ya mean to me.”

Y/N smiled, enjoying the wonderful scent of his cologne. She kissed his cheek. “I love you Harry.” Y/N whispered.

     **//**

“What’d ya do when I was at the studio? Did you go out with your friends?” Harry asked out of the blue, as him and Y/N were watching a little bit of Friends.

“No. I stayed home and cleaned. I didn’t really have anything planned.”

“Darlin’, you spent your birthday alone? I know I wasn’t here to celebrate it with ya, but why didn’t you celebrate it with your friends?” Harry asked worriedly.

“I was waiting for you, Harry. I didn’t really wanted to go out yesterday, it was cold out.” Y/N confessed. She was right, it was pretty chilly out.

“You’re right, darlin’. Its just- I wished you spent it with someone, so you wouldn’t feel so lonely on your birthday.”

 When another episode of Friends finished, Y/N got up from the couch and was about to go in the kitchen, but Harry stopped her.

“Where ya goin’?”

“I have to wash those dishes, and I have to put the clean dishes away.” Y/N said. As Harry’s hand was intertwined with hers.

“No. You are stayin’ here on this couch. No more cleanin’ for you. You cleaned yesterday. You are goin’ to lie down here and you will continue watching the show, while I go in the kitchen and wash the dishes, yea? How does that sound?”

“Umm… okay.” Y/N let out. Her body lazily falling onto the couch and covering herself with the fuzzy blanket.

    **//**

 After Harry finished washing the dishes and cleaned the rest of the peaceful little kitchen, he went and joined Y/N in the living room. They cuddled some more and continued watching the show.

 When an episode finished off Y/N would play the next right away, but when the current episode ended. Y/N was about to reach for the remote to continue watching the next episode but Harry stopped her, grabbing the remote from her and putting it on the coffee table.

“No more, love. I got somethin’ better in mind.”

“Oh, and what would that be, Harry.” Y/N asked. Her lips in between her teeth, as she looked at Harry staring down at her lips.

“You know what.”

And with that last sentence, Harry cupped Y/N’s cheeks and kissed her, savoring the taste of her lips, his tongue fighting with hers. Y/N’s hands ruffling his hair, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly as if she was about to fall over a cliff. Their moans spoke every speechless word. Their breaths becoming disordered.

Harry raised Y/N’s arms so he could discard the shirt that she was wearing. He was becoming hungry to feel every part of her body, from in and out. He wanted to touch her so bad, but he was afraid to touch delicate, gorgeous skin that reminded him of the fur of a baby fawn. Skin so soft to the touch he would want to use her as a blanket.

When her shirt was finally off, he then unclasped her bra and threw it some place that would take Y/N forever to retrieve back. But he didn’t care at the moment, right now his priority was to make love to Y/N and to make her scream out his name. He wanted her to feel good.

Harry led her to the bedroom, setting her down gently as he climbed onto her, kissing her chest and sucking on the skin of her collar bone.

His hungry hands slid down to the untouched skin of her thighs, his hands gripped onto her thighs as he kissed her skin passionately.

When Harry began trailing kisses on her thighs and making his way up, Y/N’s breathing started to be unsynchronized.

Her hands were tied in Harry’s little loose curls. Their breathing becoming staggered, both breathing in deeply and letting out words of pleasure by their many moans. They were uneven, too close for them to let loose, but the time wasn’t near yet.

“Mmm. You feel so soft, love. You’re such a beauty.” Harry whispered into her ear, as Y/N gripped onto the blankets that were close from falling from the bed.

“Please, Harry. I need you, please, sweetheart.” Y/N begged him, his eyes staring down at her marvelous colored eyes.

His lips were slightly swollen from the kissing and Y/N gently biting onto his lips. His lips matching the same color as a red rose petal.

“Okay, love.” Harry said. His head coming down to kiss the crook of her neck, causing Y/N to smile, as she kissed his left shoulder.

Harry got off the bed and opened the drawer that was sitting beside the bed. He grabbed the small foil package.

Once he was about to lie back down on the bed Y/N sat up abruptly and went to unbutton his pants. His pants fell to his ankles and Harry raising up his legs so Y/N could completely discard of them. Y/N’s fingers touched where the band of his underwear was and slid the material down, exposing his cock. She was about to stroke him, but Harry stopped her.

“It’s not about me, love. Tonight is about you.” Harry softy said. His hand cupping her cheek and gliding a finger along her face. Y/N stared at his green eyes. She got up from being bent down and began kissing his lips again, their tongues once again fighting for dominance. Harry wrapped an arm around her body and made her jump onto his torso as he set her down again on the bed as he started to position himself.

Y/N lied down on her back, legs open as Harry was on his knees in between Y/N’s legs. She saw him open up the small foil package, Harry’s brows furrowed the whole time, as he concentrated trying to rip open the package. When he finally opened the small packet, he spit onto his hand and stroked himself and inserted the condom onto him, stroking again.

 Y/N began hyperventilating. The excitement of having him here as a whole. God was she lucky to have a man like Harry. Caring, loving and having the best sex that she could ever dream of. He was a fucking treasure that she was sure to love everyday and to care for the rest of her life.

 Harry bent down, slowly, as Y/N’s eyes were on him and his eyes were stuck on hers as well. Y/N’s tummy filling with butterflies as Harry inserted a finger into her, he left sloppy kisses on the skin of her inner thighs, leaving Y/N a moaning mess. He inserted his second, then his third finger, pumping in and out ferociously causing Y/N to scream out Harry’s name already. The effect he had on her was unbelievable and it was such a dream whenever they would have intercourse it was something that Y/N would wish it never end.

“You taste so good. Ready fo’ me, Y/N, hmm?”

Y/N began nodding, her words being jumbled together causing her to not answer.

“What d’ya want, love?”

“You. I want you, Harry.”

With no answer Harry kissed her flaps and licked his wet fingers. He leaned in forward and kissed Y/N passionately as Y/N moaned when she tasted herself as they kissed.

 “Slow or fast, love?” Harry asked. His forehead touching hers as he slid his hand down and up on her shoulder, leaving little soothing circles on her skin.

“Slow, Harry.” Y/N replied, her lips kissing his cheek.

 Every time they would have sex, Harry always asked if she wanted to start slow or fast he always wanted Y/N to feel comfortable and he didn’t want to hurt her in any way.

Harry positioned himself, he wrapped her legs around his waist and his hands holding her still by putting them under her thighs.

Once he thrusted himself inside of her, his scrunched up in pleasure as he started to moan out Y/N’s name.

“Y/N! F-f-fuck. Baby, you’re s-so tight.” Harry moaned, as Y/N wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.

Harry thrusted in smoothly and slowly but with each thrust, each time Harry groaned and Y/N moaning his name, as she dug her nails onto his back, leaving little small crescent moons as temporary markings.

Y/N brought Harry’s face down to her so she could kiss him, their moans making them part their lips.

The love, their bodies working as one single soul. Their moans becoming the background noise that filled the small apartment. Their hands becoming selfish, as they touched any skin they could feel, their hands intertwined as if they were afraid to let go. But they couldn’t let go. Not yet.

“Har-harry! I’m so close! Go faster, please.”

Harry took his opportunity and thrusted faster than ever, as Y/N started to moan even louder than before. He set Y/N’s legs on his shoulders making it easier for him to thrust inside of her.

Y/N began to clutch onto the covers of the bed and digging her head into the pillow, trying to keep her moans in.

Harry slid his hand up to her clit, rubbing it gently causing Y/N to moan softer as her breathing became even. He moved his hands from keeping her thighs up on his shoulders and cupping her breasts, kneading them and leaning down to suck on of her nipples. He began thrusting harder and harder and continued sucking on her nipple, giving the same attention to the other nipple.

Harry gently pinched her nipples, as Y/N rolled her head back, her mouth open in an ‘o’ shape. Her pleasure sending shivers up her spine.

  When he leaned away from her, he continued massaging her clit as butterflies and shivers ran through her body. His hands wandered off, touching every curve of Y/N’s body. A beautiful body that you would think was created by the gods and goddesses.

 “Fuck, darlin’. I’m so close.”

He continued to thrust deep inside of her and Y/N still moaning out his name and pulling onto Harry’s hair making Harry to groan from the pleasure he was currently feeling.

 When Harry rubbed Y/N’s clit again, that is where she releases and Harry also releases seconds after when he thrusted inside of her for the last time. Harry comes out of her as his hands are on the bed, and head bowed down as he breathe heavily. Releasing air and breathing in air. He looks up to see Y/N having her eyes shut for a while then opening seeing Harry’s sweaty forehead and his chest shinning from the sweat. He smiled, his dimples in full display as he looks away, bashful from seeing Y/N smile back.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’.” Harry said before kissing Y/N’s forehead.

He got up and took off the condom and throwing it in the trash that was in the bathroom and headed outside of the bedroom door.

 Y/N sat up, and wrapped her messed up hair into a ponytail.

 Harry came back with the birthday cake he got her yesterday along with candles adorning the small cake.

“We forgot to slice the cake. I thought we could do it now.” Harry smiled. He set the cake down on the nightstand and lit up the candles with a match.

Harry brought it close to Y/N so she could finally blow the candles and make her birthday wish. Y/N closed her eyes thinking about her wish before blowing out the candles. Once she finished, she opened her eyes and blew out the candles.

Harry exclaimed in excitement, hugging her and kissing her lips.

“So. What’d ya wish fo’?”

“I can’t tell you, Harry. You know that!”

“I know, love.” Harry smiled as he kissed her once again smiling in between their kisses.

And with that Harry sliced half of the cake as they shared the half piece with each other. Harry gave her the utensil first so she could get her first bite if the cake and Harry tasting it after her.

While they ate the cake, Harry swiped his finger to get a speck of frosting and putting it on Y/N’s nose and lips.

Harry smiled as Y/N smiled and was about to get the frosting from her nose and wipe it clean with her finger, but before she could Harry grabbed her hand and rubbed soothing circles on her skin.

“Kissy?” Harry asked, his lips puckering making Y/N smile.

“Okay, Harry.” Y/N laughed in between the sweet kisses.

 And with that Harry and Y/N spent the rest of the night laughing and cuddling with each other, eating bits and bits of the cake. A precious moment that Harry will never forget and spending his time with his precious Y/N.

________________________________________________________________

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Send me any requests if you’d like. And as always comment or reblog and let me know what you thought. Much love 💞💓 -Ani.

[ivyveil]

Love is the Punchline 3

the one where you're on Harry's doorstep and he's just got home from the grocery store

A Continuation of LITP (masterlist here)

Silence.

You knocked on the door again - three taps.

If your shaking hands weren’t proof enough, you were there. In California, in front of Harry’s flat, on the scratchy doormat, next to the potted plants, massively jet-lagged from your rushed flights. Fatigue could only do so much to pull you away from the blatant panic thrumming in your lungs.

Your stomach growled, unsatisfied by the dinner of bagged peanuts and soda. The post-flight griminess sensation had absolutely taken over the feel of your skin, the idea that your eyeballs could possibly fall out of your head. What was mainly keeping you from rest, or the possible clean-up before surprising your best-friend-maybe-possible-lover was the fact that...no, you hadn’t booked a hotel room. Quite stupid, really, but you had been in the unfortunate position of needing to tell your cab driver an address, or exiting the vehicle to find your way around an unfamiliar, chaotic city for the remote chance of an open room.

Your plan could have been more thought-out, you realized. Harry’s tour was beginning in a few days, after all, and you had somehow expected him to be home, alone, doing nothing but waiting for you to rush in like it was a Hugh Jackman rom-com? Highly unlikely. You had realized this first when the cab driver, Thomas, had commented on the extreme wild night events that had been featured for that weekend. Your cheeks had maintained their approximate level of ‘so red they’re burning in hell’ since then, a precursor of embarrassment to the inevitable mortification around the corner.

You only had one bag, too, and it was mainly full of books to read, as an attempt to calm your nerves on the trip over.

Was the hallucination of love truly worth this? Had you actually flown to a different country with the intention of sweeping your best friend off his feet, when he was days away from taking off? Your thoughts had clouded together, morphing into a congealed entity of discussion and no over-riding conclusion. Basically, you were massively done for.

“Y/N?”

Bewilderment had become a tangible smoke, crawling through his bones and evaporating from his words.

It felt cold on your skin.

Your hand was halfway in your purse, halfway to shoving your phone back in after you had checked the clock for the 400th time. Your other hand had been shoving your hair behind your ear, a half-noticed coping mechanism you had when particularly distressed. That was when you turned around, an attempt at a smile wordlessly exhausting itself on your lips.

The nerves were actually going to kill you, you decided, your stomach practically eating itself in stress. Poor Harry, he would have to watch you physically crumble into the wind if your heart-rate didn’t slow the heck down.

“What are yeh doing out here, love?”

He was wearing a plain black shirt, jeans, and a cap that had his hair carelessly stuffed inside. Several locks had found an escape, which obviously was annoying as Harry blew out of the corner of his mouth at it, frowning. His hands were full, with cloth bags that were, in turn, full of groceries.

Harry stepped closer, setting the bags down on the porch so he could access his back pocket for his door keys. The bags clinked with glass. The keys jingled quietly. His eyes never left yours.

He looked, in the whole sense, shocked – perhaps not quite believing you were genuinely in California, waiting on his porch-step, with one bag and a grimace still plastered on your face.

“I’m not on the phone.”

“No, I suppose you aren’t,” he allowed, moving closer.

Not even the devil could smell that good.

It was only at the last second his glance shifted from you to his door, although it seemed rather reluctant. Maybe he believed the moment he was to look away, you would dissipate into the LA night. You weren’t entirely convinced he was wrong in that.

He moved past you, his shoulders blocking the view but you still heard the click of the lock, the opening of the door. You knelt down and gathered a few of his grocery bags along with your travel one, appreciative they would hide the shaking in your fingertips and the continual urge to take you back home, far away from confrontation and vulnerability. With everything you’d put into this plan, you still had yet to find the right words to start out this mess of a conversation.

Harry was soon behind you again, arms full of the leftover bags. You both walked into his home, you moving against the wall so Harry could close the door with his foot and lead the way to the kitchen.

It felt almost normal, which in itself felt incredibly wrong. You were there to break what had been normal, the secrecy and the allusions to what could have been. You were there to be everything you hadn’t.

The silence in the kitchen had transformed somewhat. He had begun shelving the food, working methodically and without really acknowledging you. It didn’t seem like he was out-right ignoring you, more as if he were waiting for you to start the conversation neither one of you knew how to begin. The ball was in your court, as it were.

You felt like you were waiting to be validated, in the strangest sense of the word, reaching out so long your arms felt infinite. Was he okay that you had showed up extremely unexpectedly? Was it too much, did he mean more separation than he implied in the voice mail? Was he waiting, just to reject you in the way you had to him?

You couldn’t express the correct words, your mind stopped your lips from moving so your soul could stay intact for a few moments longer. All preservation, all defense. Putting off the real moments, for the version you had felt before.

“When did you land?”

It was lightly worded, casual and common courtesy to ask, but the way his eyebrows were drawn together and his stare was kept strictly on the cans of black beans being shoved a bit harshly into his pantry – it wasn’t. The stitches were unraveling, one of you was about to become completely, and entirely, undone. The tension was there, thick ropes of it - who would be hanged first?

“Two hours ago. Bought tickets when..I...the night I called,” you finished lamely, hands motioning behind you gently. As if it could ever be behind you. Everything seemed too present to be real.

“I think about us.” The words left before your mind could register the danger in them.

He raised an eyebrow. Eyes shifted to the lettuce. The fridge opened. Lettuce placed gently in the drawer.

You continued, clarifying what you felt.

“I think about us more than I, perhaps, should.”

Harry was quiet, more for an absence of anything to say. His bags of groceries lay, forgotten, as the focus became the one he was anticipating. He kept his eyes downcast still, but you could tell he was paying extremely close attention to your words. His fingertips softly traced against one another, his feet shuffled on the hardwood floor.

The fridge closed.

Everything felt grossly explicit.

You closed your eyes briefly, recalling how gentle his touch was on your cheek. He had cared at one point, which hopefully meant some had transferred to the present. Your arrival couldn’t be entirely unwelcome, not when you realized his hands were trembling equal to yours, and not when desperation wracked itself around each word you spoke.

“I wish I didn’t call you..how I did..I wish I had told you everything sooner. I don’t want you thinking it was some drunk call because I couldn’t say it to your face.”

“Couldn’t yeh?”

You realized you preferred it when he wasn’t making eye contact. They were challenging yours, silently begging to know why you had let him drown, that night in the garden, and come back to help, arms loaded with more tubs of water for him to choke on.

He shook his head, clearly unimpressed by your silence.

“What are yeh doing, Y/N?”

You shrugged, too overwhelmed to say much of anything else. The line of vision was limited to his floors, the worn fronts of his shoes. Exhaustion rippled against your spine, begging to say ‘forget it’ and rush out before everything felt more intense. It already felt too much.

But.

This was Harry. The man who made the world make sense, the boy who saw in you more possibility than you knew what to do with. And he deserved the world twice over, he was worth it. He was worth it, he had never been anything less.

With somewhat renewed confidence, you managed to continue.

“Thank you, for being honest with me, before. I appreciat-”

You jumped, startled.

Harry had interrupted with a laugh. It was wrong, coming from an angel like him. It clawed at your heart, dripping ice into your veins.

“’Thank you’? Thanks fo’ what? Thanks fo’ bleeding out to yeh? Thanks fo’ trying again and again to be honest, after years of pretending? Thanks for taking the rejection so nicely, Haz, I appreciate you letting me confessing my love when I’m drunk off my ass and you can’t do anything about it, because you’re a bloody country away?”

The words “I’m here now” were hollow in his kitchen, a million years late.

Harry nodded, briskly turning his face to the side and biting his cheek. The anger he felt simmered too close to the surface to be properly contained, or even checked by his heart to see if Y/N even deserved it. His heart had taken a vacation, though, or perhaps permanent leave, and the scrapings of a hollowed chest could hold together for only so long.

She was still so beautiful. It only added to his anger, how he could feel angry at her when he looked in her eyes. How could she look so pretty, when she had caused him so much hurt? He knew she hadn’t meant to, but what was done couldn’t be changed. Apologies felt like breath wasted. He couldn’t keep tossing his heart out to the wolves, expecting something different and growing more displeased when it was ruined.

“Yeah, and what is it yeh want?”

“I-I believe in you. More than anyone else. You scare me, sometimes, how brilliant you are.”

It didn’t ring like most compliments to his ears, although it was absolutely intended as one. Confession weighed down the corners, kept the words from flying at soft as they might’ve if your vocal chords weren’t knotted together in the echo of an un-tuned instrument. There was a truth somewhere, a revelation you were dancing around, struggling to appropriately address.

“I felt like both an impossibility and a limitation,” you stressed loudly, as if only remembering to speak up after rolling partially through an inner monologue.

“I couldn’t. Everything just, Haz, it felt like...I never knew what a body felt like before I touched yours. And the possibility of that, matched with the possibility of reciprocation – it all seemed improbable. And even if we had properly figured it out, and went steady or whatever it is kids do-” he rolled his eyes, not finding your rant particularly amusing “-the chance that we would last, it would have been infinitesimally small. You’re brilliant, H, and I could never bear to lose you. To limit you to me, to make you realize your mistakes, that would hurt both of us.”

“Yeh actually think that’s true?” You flinched at how violent his words clashed into one another, the disgust writhing against his tongue and snarling his face into the sharp essence of revulsion. You glanced up. His arms crossed over his body, mouth set in a firm line.

Analyzing could’ve only get you so far, the true emotions were validated just by existence. Your biggest trial was to take the jump, the fall, the risk, whatever it was, into having faith that you both could make something beautiful. Before you could even begin to try and respond, he continued.

“I was honored to be there, to be with yeh, to have yeh in my life. I couldn’t say what I did to deserve you, but whatever it was...I’d do a million times over.”

He took a step forward, his hands retreating to his sides. You had remained standing against the counter, across the kitchen from his position near the fridge. The neutral ground between you could be riddled with minefields, and it would only be moments before they went off. Harry stepped carefully.

“You’re beautiful because you’re every poem I’ve ever read. You live in the movies in my head, you’re on my mind when I do so much as wake up, or go to bed, or tie my shoes, or go for a walk. I can’t get yeh out.” His eyes flashed, as if they had gone mad, helplessly looking into yours.

He had been trying to get over you, although the concept was still as foreign to him as it had been when Jeff sat him down and told him sometimes life wasn’t fair, and all he could do was take care of himself.

After hearing your voice mail, though, the thoughts consuming Harry’s mind were of helping you, supporting you and introducing how goddamn possible love was for you. How you were love, personified, and how can someone deny the existence of themselves? You were bitterly human, and all he felt was more love for you, for that reason. The stoic response you had to his almost-confession in his kitchen had kept him from understanding your humanity, but he slowly understood where your hesitancy lay.

“Look in meh eyes,” it was a demand, insistent and his hands reached out to grab yours and you could feel every edge of his fingerprints digging into your wrists and his eyes were so clear, fuck, they were blurry but it was on your end, not really his and -

“Do yeh see it?! Do you see any fucking disappointment?” his words were seething in their low tone but he shook his fists, your wrists moving rapidly with them, “I’ve seen everything, I was there when yeh couldn’t leave yeh house for months and I was there when the only words yeh knew were the labels of those fucking glass bottles in yeh kitchen. I was there with you, I saw you, I love you. Why can’t it just be us, and we properly show each other the love we have? How can you love me and turn me away?”

The silence returned, utterly unwelcome yet your mouth couldn’t properly work to break it. Your heart, startled anew by the copious quantity of caffeine you had chugged during your travels, pounded at its cage, demanding your brain to fight the logic of his words. There was nothing you could argue, you were emotionally naked and this was it. It was all out on the line.

He stepped away, let your wrists go.

“Okay.” was all he said. Your heart was throbbing with frustration, your mouth opening and closing, a finale of sorts.

Looking up, you were unsettled. The skin under his eyes was puffy, his cheeks flushed and his lips bitten. Perhaps he had been in a similar state before, the devastation still lodged in his eyes and the motion of his throat, and you hadn’t seen it beyond the glaze of your own tears.

One let go from his left eye, drifting down his cheek.

“Don’t cry,” you whispered, your voice feeling rather raw against a throat that had continuously felt boarded-up throughout the night. You brushed the tear off before it could bother his lips, his eyes were trained away from you. It was an act of trust, letting you so close, to ignore the anger and let himself fall apart.

He took another step backwards, shifting his shoulders a bit towards the hallway door. The memories from the kitchen flooded back with screeches, like brakes working in place before the fatal crash, the horror of losing him again forcing your both to act instinctively.

“Please,” the sobs were close in his chest, you felt them like you would a torrent of rain, “I can’t listen to it again. I-I can’t listen to you cry and not do anything, I can’t, I can’t let go again. It-it would wreck me, I’m already half gone and you’re the other half, fuck Harry you’re the other half, please don’t leave. The words won’t come out right, I keep trying, I promise, I promise – god, please stop crying, please, please stop. I love you so much, so, so much and please stop, oh god you’re crying-”

You drew nearer to him, holding his cheeks with the palms of your hands and moving your fingers to loosely draw away his tears. You couldn’t be too sure if you were remotely accurate, your own vision obscured. It was a scene of pathetic sorrow, exhaustion drenching you both and loosening the screws of your spines, slowly, slowly.

He had remained still for a moment, being simple in letting the fear loose from the corners of hie eyes. He hadn’t been sure how to interpret your silence, going back to the idea of rejection and confirming that you had flown out to California to continue a conversation that, he felt, had no good end.

His hands grazed the sides of your hips. Barely, at first, and then again. Once more, feeling the curves of your body and resting against them. He seemed hesitant, expecting you to tell him off, or move back, or to take his crying as an excuse for a feel, but it wasn’t sexual. It was his way of pulling you closer, of accepting that, yeah, maybe you didn’t know the words yet but you knew his body.

Although the tears were not stopping, he sniffed and nuzzled your hands out of the way so his head could burrow into your neck, arms wrapping tighter for a fierce embrace. This, you knew how to communicate back with.

Without a second thought, your arms held onto the nape of his neck, curled up in the short hairs that were sticking up under his cap. Your head was against his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as you listened carefully to the motions of his body wracking with silent crying.

You hadn’t noticed it, but Harry felt your body shaking as well, the traveling and the emotions of the past few days having taken a massive toll on your energy levels. You two stood there, a torpedo of love and misunderstanding, anger and passion, forgiveness and empathy.

“I’m not drunk, and I love you. I love you, I love you, I’ll tell you every second of every gosh darn day how much I love you, you’re everything, and it is so real. And I don’t think I mind,” you quietly mumbled against his shoulder, grinning slightly and doing a weird cry-laugh.

“Yeh horoscope said you’d be a bit emotional this week. Jupiter’s in some library, I think.”

You pulled your head back, bewildered at the fact Harry would even know your horoscope, much less be intrigued enough to check in on how the universe was treating you in the midst of your fight.

He pulled back, as well, to give you a cheeky grin that had snuck its way against the grains of the slowing tears. Harry half-shrugged, pulling you in again to squeeze you, tightly against his chest. It was then that it really sunk in for him, how physically you were there – how, physically, you had traveled across the world because you love him. You. Love. Him.

(If he started goofily beaming like a goddamn 12-year-old who saw a naked girl’s chest for the first time, it wasn’t for anyone to know but him.)

You were a giggling mess, high off the intense emotions that had played with your heartstrings like a puppet marionette. Part of you wasn’t convinced it had been real, that the night would give way to a morning that showed you, alone, in your bed back at home.

It sure felt real, when Harry slid his hands up your back, cupping your cheeks, and moving in to kiss you. Perhaps it still felt too intense, everything occurring within such a short time span, but what the hell, you and Harry were never good at making things easy.

His lips tasted like mint. It was all you could properly focus on, the rest of your mind growing increasingly foggy with weariness and a craving to know if his body tasted the same. The two sides fought against one another, especially when Harry’s hands drifted downwards and his tongue quickened in pace and grew sloppier, down the side of your neck and marking that spot behind your ear – but eventually the stifled yawn could remain so for only so long.

You and Harry were alright. The nerves had quelled, the heartbreak had healed. Harry’s heart had returned, after all, better than ever after a restful vacation. He had understood your fatigue, he himself having been victim to it for years, and you two drifted, together, towards his bedroom. Laughter kept bubbling up between your lungs and his lips, mixing together in a harmony of tear-dried giggles and fits of inexplicable amusement.

Love really was the funniest thing.

- 2 months later -

Harry had left that morning, dashing to the airport in a flurry of glitter, satin, and something he called ‘pussy bows’ that you 100% felt were not supposed to be called that, under any context ever. He had quickly kissed you goodbye, made it to the doorway, before smirking and wandering back over, kissing you proper.

Jeff had made a gagging noise by the front door, but you were fairly sure he was secretly pleased with how things had turned out. Probably wasn’t even so secret, considering how he drunkenly boasted about how he “was the catalyst that began them, true and honest” during one of the concert’s after parties.

You had toured with Harry a bit, for what you could with your limited vacation days. He had appreciated every moment of it, soaking in the praise at night and the extra bits in the morning. You were a perfect fit in his tour life – a genuine poker competitor with the rest of his band (which reminded him, Mitch owed you $20), a real help when it came to sound and light check, and a fantastic roommate after the shows.

Things hadn’t been as strange as you had feared, nothing in your relationship with Harry changed fundamentally – except that Harry’s compliments were now far more X-rated than before, and he hadn’t typically bought you so many presents when you were only platonically involved.

Speaking of, there was a litter of them scattered around your shared apartment, waiting for you to find them throughout the day. You groaned at each one, sending H a pic with “lol” being the general go-to caption and his faux indignant response that you were not properly appreciating the wonderful comedian Harry Styles could be.

To be fair, they were generally funny. A Post-It was next to your cup of coffee, reading Words cannot espresso how much you mean to me. Even though it wasn’t an espresso, it didn’t stop the flattered smile digging into your dimples for the rest of the morning.

In your work email, there was a receipt from a company working to Save the Bees from Extinction. They had thanked you profusely for your contribution. Immediately sensing the Styles aura from the letter, you sent a screenshot to Harry with a bunch of ????s.

We bee-long together. :-)

Haz.

Plus you never shut up about the damned bees, they’ll be fine now.

 Your particular favorite, though, was the teddy bear that would find its way to your doorstep, with a bright pink bow and custom teddy bear Gucci suit, its lapel reading “Can’t bear to be apart. See you soon. x.”

That gift in particular promised the quick arrival of your lovely, perfect, wonderful, understanding, and yes – perhaps even funny – boyfriend.

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

A/N: Check the masterlist of LITP here, and let me know your thoughts if you would like!  

[protectingcalum-blog]

stay

masterlist

words: 3.2k? 

warnings: Swearing, alcohol, also you might cry so idk

summary: best friends realize they aren’t just besties. Not exactly sure what this is. Inspired by the song stay by post malone?

a/n: I wrote a lil something because I went missing for a while, but I am back! Hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open for requests, ideas, or anything you wanna talk about

-

Luke loved hosting parties. He lived in a big, gorgeous house in LA, how could he not want to have his friends over to get drunk? Of course, when your best friend throws a party, you have to be there. Which is why Calum was getting bored with the parties Luke would throw every friday night. 

One night Calum excused himself from whatever conversation he was part of. Everything that his friend was saying went in one ear and out the other. He needed fresh air. And a cigarette. So he found his way outside to Luke’s backyard and sat down on a bench. He looked around and took in the view. It was quiet and not many people were outside. 

But there was a girl standing outside alone that caught Calum’s attention. She caught him off guard when she sat on the opposite side of the bench started talking to him. It became a regular thing for the next few weeks. They seemed to always find each other at Luke’s house. They eventually started texting and spending time with each other.

She became the person Calum would go to when the boys were busy. And she was glad because she really needed another friend. But they learned that sometimes friendships aren’t easy and feelings about their friendship would change. 

-

It was a Saturday night but she wasn’t in the mood to go out and interact with other people. She would rather stay in her comfy bed. It was around 1am when she finally decided that she couldn’t stay up any longer. She turned her lights off and slid back into her bed. Shortly after closing her eyes she heard her phone ring but decided to ignore it. But it rang again, so she sat up and reached for the phone that sat on her bedside table. She was surprised when she saw who was calling her, Calum. Why would he call her? She wasn't his hookup. She sighed and answered the phone, “Calum?” She said a bit annoyed. “You’re not at the party, where are you?” He asked her. “I stayed in for the night.” She sighed. 

“Can I come over?” He asked slurring his words a bit. Of course he was drunk, it was a saturday night. But why would he ask to come over? “What?” She said making sure that she was hearing him right. “Please, your place is closer to Luke’s and I’m drunk and tired.” He stated. He was right, but the idea of having to deal with drunk Calum right now was not ideal. But Calum was her friend now and that means she has to also take on the role of dealing with him in moments like this. “Okay.” She said softly into the phone. She texted him her address. He saved it to her contact because he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he would want it.

Calum opened the door to her home that she left unlocked for him and found his way into her bedroom. He saw her laying in her bed and decided to sit next to her. “I missed you at the party.” He stated as he looked over at her. “Really?” She hummed in amusement wanting him to continue and tell her why. “Yeah, a lot. I had no one else to stare at.” He chuckled, making her laugh at him. “So you missed the life of the party, huh?” She sat up in her bed, no longer tired and wanting to talk to the drunk boy who was sitting on her bed. “I did.” They both laughed because they knew that there was no way anyone would consider her the life of the party. She always kept a low profile at parties, she figured it was the best thing for her to do. 

“You know I’m drunk right.” He stated. “No shit, Hood.” She rolled her eyes at his statement. She has seen drunk Calum a lot, so she knew how he acted. “Okay good because I need to tell you something.” He said looking over at her. Usually, that would freak her out but she reminded herself that he was drunk and that whatever was going to come out of his mouth next, probably was meaningless. Calum leaned back onto her bed making his head hit the pillows and moved his body around so he was comfortable. She watched in amusement while she was waiting for him to say something. “Cal,” She said as she watched him close his eyes. She got no response so she said his name again. “What?” He hummed with his eyes still closed. “What were you going to say?” She asked curiously, really wanting to know. “Sometimes I don’t like being friends with you.” He stated in a whisper as he began to fall asleep. That hurt her. Why? Was all she could think. She placed a blanket over his body and moved off her bed to go sleep on the couch. It was hard for her to sleep when her mind would keep thinking about him.

-

Something was off between her and Calum. He wasn’t responding to her as often and when he did respond, he didn’t have much to say. She figured she was annoying so she decided it was best to keep her distance. Calum was the reason she didn’t want to go to Luke’s party. Instead, she followed her friend to a different party but after drinking vodka, she regretted coming to this unfamiliar party. She would rather be at the same party as him. So she called him and told him that she needed her friend. After her phone call, she sent Calum her location so he would be able to find her. She stood outside on the front yard and immediately hugged Calum when she saw him.

“Aren’t you tired of this?” He asked from beside her. She had a feeling that she knew what he was talking about but she decided to play dumb instead. “Of what?” She asked not bothering to look at him, instead, she stared at her shoes. She was too scared to see the look on his face. Calum took a deep breath not sure of where he should take this conversation, maybe this was something to talk about when they are both sober. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to tell her the feelings he has for her while she was drunk. But she wanted him to finish whatever he was going to say, otherwise, it was going to eat her alive. But no one spoke up. Calum bit down on his lip to stop himself from exposing his feelings for her. He stood up and moved so he was standing in front of her and stuck his hand out for her to grab. “Let's get you home.” He said instead of what she really, really wanted to hear. She nodded in agreement and interlaced her fingers with his. They walked down the driveway as she rested her head onto his arm. Her head couldn’t reach the tall boy’s shoulder. This was going to be a long walk, they both thought.

The minute she was able to get through her front door she kicked her shoes off and threw her coat onto the floor, not wanting the feeling of them on her body anymore. Calum neatly took his shoes off and placed them near the doormat and followed behind her into her room. He took a seat on her bed as she went through her drawers trying to find a big t-shirt to wear to bed. As soon as she found a comfy one, she stripped out of her clothes she wore out for the night. “Woah give a guy a warning.” He called at her while burying his face in his hands. She scoffed at him, “what are you scared of my ass?” No, he thought, he was scared of getting hard. But he couldn’t tell her that. “Just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He gave what he thought would be the proper answer. “Ya know Cal, if I was uncomfortable I wouldn’t change in front of you. But clearly, I am.” Calum just gave a chuckle in response to her. She felt comfortable around him? Comfortable enough to strip in front of him? She was making it really hard for him to not fall for her.

She walked over to her bed and crawled into it, instantly feeling her body relax. Being in her bed after being out all night was the best feeling to her. Calum stood up but before he could move his feet she opened her mouth, “you’re not gonna leave me, right?” She asked softly. Calum closed his eyes and sighed. It was too hard to stay the night in her room when she had no idea the thoughts that were going through his head. “Do you need me to stay?” He asked looking over her. “Please.” She begged.

Calum sighed in response, he knew he would end up staying but he knew he shouldn’t. “I don’t know, I really don’t wanna sleep on your air mattress again.” He said making an excuse for himself. “Okay, so sleep in my bed.” She knew what he was thinking, it would be too awkward for the two of them to share her small bed. “I’ll sleep on the air mattress.” Calum slid out of his jeans and walked over to the air mattress that sat beside her bed. She was too lazy to ever put it away. He laid on the air mattress that really, was not comfortable at all. But it was better than the floor so he couldn’t complain. “Calum you’re being dumb, come sleep in my bed.” She said over to him. He rolled on his side so he could look up at her, “No.” He watched her as she climbed out of her bed and laid down on the air mattress beside him, tugging on the covers so she could cover her body with them. “Go sleep in your bed,” He said to her but she shook her head no. “Not without you.” He knew how stubborn she was. He knew that he would always make sure she got her way. She had him wrapped around her finger. “Fine” Calum huffed as he climbed into her bed, with her following him.

He felt stupid for declining her invite to sleep here in the first place, this bed was comfy. The bed was a full. It wasn’t super small but definitely wasn’t big. They fell asleep with their bodies pressed together. There was no space for them to be apart. He was almost sure that she had already fallen asleep. “You can’t keep counting on me to stay.” He said to himself, but out loud.

-

It was wednesday and both of them had no plans for the night. Which made her text Calum to tell him to come over and she would order take-out. How was he supposed to decline that offer? So he texted her back that he would be on his way soon. He arrived in his lazy day attire, a green hoodie and grey sweatpants. He should have known better than to wear those grey sweatpants to her apartment, she thought. “All dressed up for me?” She smirked at him. “Fuck off.” He said playfully back to her as he strolled over to the couch she was sitting on. He stood for a minute before deciding how close to her to sit. He figured if he sat at the opposite end it would be awkward. But it would also be weird if he sat basically on top of her. Although he would love that. So he sat near her, but with space. She had her throw blanket thrown over her lap and her legs stretched out so her feet were on top of the coffee table. “I would share my blanket with you, but you're a bit too far.” She said looking at him and gesturing for him to move towards her. He moved closer to her, a little too close because he could feel the sides of their thighs touching. She felt like his touch was making her skin burn. She didn’t know how long she could handle it. So shortly after she turned a show on, she moved to order their food. She didn’t need to ask him what he wanted because it was a place they would often go together. Of course, she knew his order.

“I don’t understand how you can eat that. It tastes like terrible.” She said looking at the ramen he was eating. “You taste terrible.” He said in response before realizing how bad that sounded. “How would you know?” She laughed at him. He simply shrugged his shoulders not wanting to talk about the accidental dirty joke he made. “You’re the worst.” He said to her making both of them laugh. Both of them knew it was a lie, she was one of the best things to happen to him. “Wanna know what’s terrible?” He asked looking over at the girl eating her meal. “What?” She said focusing on him, rather than her food. “The show you’re watching. It sucks.” He stated. “You only think it is bad because you just stare at your phone when you’re supposed to be paying attention.” Calum knew that was true, but he wouldn’t admit it to her.

After staying over for a few more hours, Calum noticed it was nearly 12am. “It’s getting late. I think I am going to head out for the night.” As he started to stand up she grabbed his wrist. “Stay with me. Please?” She said in that soft voice that he was weak for. This was her first time asking him to spend the night with the both of them sober. She didn’t know what made her say that, but she did know that she wanted nothing more than for him to spend the night. But he knew it would be a bad idea. “I have things in the morning.” He said to her as he played with the rings on his fingers while watching his hands, instead of looking at her. “You’re lying.”

“Am not.” He said stubbornly. “You play with your hands when you’re anxious and lying, Cal.” She said to him, crossing her arms and pressing her lips together. She was nervous about what he might say next. Did he not like her? How could he spend the whole day with her and not like her? She quickly pushed that thought out of her head. “I can’t tell you.” he sighed. She shook her head at him, raising her eyebrow, “You mean you can, but you don’t want to?”

“You told me you needed a friend, so I became your friend. But now you keep asking me to stay and I don’t know what this means.” He said looking over at the girl who sat next to her. “Friends stay over at each other's homes.” Was all she could say in response. “Bullshit.” He huffed at her becoming angry. There wasn’t much Calum hated about the girl who sat next to him. But he did hate when she played dumb. “Friends don’t drunk text friends every single night and tell them how much they need them. They certainly don’t beg them to sleep in their bed against them.” She sat there with her lips pressed together and stared at him. She had no idea what to say next. She had no idea of where this conversation was going. Her mind went blank. 

“Say something,” Calum begged her. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Cal.” She reached for his hand to hold to help calm him down but it only made him pull his hand away and push himself off the couch so he was standing in front of her. “Friends don’t need friends like we need each other.” He began pacing around the room desperately wanting some kind of response from her. But she still stayed quiet. “Why would you do this to me?” He asked his voice now cracking.

“How could you do this to me?” She retorted. “I told you I needed a friend, I didn’t ask for you to make me fall for you,” She said exposing to him that she did feel what he was feeling. She knew herself. She thinks she doesn’t need a relationship. 

In love with you keep playing over and over in his head. He loved her too. Calum felt better knowing that he wasn’t reading her wrong, but he still had no idea where their relationship was going. They were either going to stop being friends by ignoring each other or they were going to date. “I’m falling for you too.” He was scared, just as scared as her. “You know, sometimes things don’t go the way we want them to go.” He stopped, “Can’t we just try? Try to be more?” He asked her calmly. “But what if you decide you don’t like me anymore? What if I get ugly? What if we don’t work and I lose my best friend? Then what Calum?” She said rambling on and on, saying exactly what was racing through her head. “Sometimes we need to take risks.” He stated. He was right. This is a risk she wanted to take but let her insecurities stopped her from doing so. “Okay.” She stated. 

Calum raised her eyebrow at her, not exactly sure of what the okay was about. “Tell me this will be okay.” She said to him as she stood up in front of him, walking closer to him. She looked up at him, as he looked down at her lips. Wondering if he was really gonna do what he wanted to do. He connected their lips as he grabbed her and pulled her so she was as close as she could possibly be against him. She took the kiss as the answer she was looking for. It was going to be okay.

-

Tagging my favorites (let me know if you want to be tagged in future writing)

@wildhearthood @boytoynamedcalum @sleepyemmalou @who-do-you-love-5sos @calssunflower @lilacsos @currentlyupcalsass

[its-rockin-pete]

Extended Drabble Pt.2

Chapter 4

I wake up to somebody gently nudging the back of my shoulder. I deeply inhale before turning over to see who’s trying to get me out of bed- I blink a couple of times to focus my eyes that are still heavy with sleep and see Albert standing next to my bunk.

“Hey- I know you’re not a morning person, but I think you should give yourself some time to wake up before we start the fear sims today. I was thinking maybe we could grab some breakfast together and then go for a jog or something if we have time?” He sounds nervous.

I smile at the gesture- He’s right, I should probably prepare myself before being thrown head-first into a mental prison in which the only way out is to face my fears.

“Yeah-” my sentence is interrupted with a yawn- “That sounds great actually…” I sit up and push my blanket off of myself, feeling the cold air embrace my body through my long-sleeved shirt. “Just let me get dressed and then we can head to the dining hall.”

He smiles and nods before walking towards the stairs, passing Peter on his way up the steps.

Great.

I act like I didn’t just see him and stand up to begin getting ready.

Don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me.

Just as I start looking through my drawer for an outfit, he opens his mouth.

“Hey, Doormat, you’re up early for a Monday morning.”

“What do you want?” I continue to look through my clothes, keeping my eyes down to make it clear that I'm not exactly in the chatty mood today.

“I wanted to talk about your little boy toy. Saw you guys sneak out last night. Where’d you go? Did you two need some privacy? Was the dorm a little too public for you?”

I stand up and set my folded clothes on the bed, still not making any eye contact with him. Even though I’m pissed off and embarrassed beyond belief, I respond calmly.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I would appreciate it if you left me alone.”

“You’re a liar. A pretty horrible one too, your face is beet red and your hands are shaking.”

Goddamned ex-Candor.

“Why are you so concerned about it? It's none of your business and it never will be your business. Maybe you should focus on your own life before worrying about mine.”

He scoffs and I can see him cross his arms and lean against my bunk out of the corner of my eye. At this point, I'm just fumbling with my clothes so I look like I have a reason to not be looking at Peter- there's no way in hell I’m undressing in front of him during an argument.

“Oh, that's strange coming from you. You seemed to be pretty interested in my life the last time we talked.” He briefly pauses- “Hey, how are your mommy issues panning out, you alright?”

I finally turn to look at his dumb smug face- Blood tickles my cheeks as it rushes into my face. How did he know about that?

“Excuse me?”

“Oh- You’ve got some pretty interesting reading material in that little drawer.” He smirks and nods towards the drawer underneath my bunk.

He read my journal that had written back home.

“You sick bastard- you went through my stuff?! How did you-?” I squat down again and pull open my drawer again to see if the book is still there, and surely enough, it's not.

“Where did you put it? Tell me right now or else you’re gonna have my foot up your ass in about five seconds.”

“You know, Your earlier teen years were very interesting. Didn’t know Amity did more than farm wheat and play banjos.”

“Peter, I’m not playing with you, tell me where you put the book right now,” I growl at him; It is way too early in the morning for this shit.

He chuckles and shakes his head, peeling away from my bunk and walking over to his own. I watch him lift the mattress and search around with his hand for a couple of seconds before pulling out a generic-looking black hardcover notebook.

“I was done reading anyways,” He saunters over to me and holds out the book, but before I can grab it, he pulls it away and turns his back to me. I circle around and try to pry it from his grasp, but he’s having too much fun watching me struggle. Suddenly I am glad that almost everyone from the dorm is already at breakfast.

Finally, I tackle him to the ground and punch him in the shoulder- he’s still laughing. As soon as I see his grip loosen up, I rip the book out of his hands. When I get up off of him, I kick him in the center of his spine before he gets to his feet as well, only causing him to let out a little “ow” through his laughter.

“Feisty... Just like I like them.”

“I hate you. I really do.”

He looks at me with his arms crossed again, wearing a smirk that I don’t like one bit. “No, you don’t.”

I don’t respond, I simply toss my journal back into my drawer and kick it shut.

He turns around and heads back upstairs, “See you around, Sweetheart. Good luck today. You’ll need it.”

 As soon as I’m sure he’s gone, I sit on the edge of my bed and cover my face; I feel sick.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

I stand up again and finally start getting dressed- my shoulders are trembling and the heat behind my eyes makes me clench my jaw-I can’t cry right now. I can’t, not this early in the morning.

Chapter 5

I walk up the stairs and see Al waiting at the end of the hallway- I’m shocked he waited that long for me.

“There you are, I was beginning to think you went back to bed,” he chuckles.

I smile back at him despite the tight feeling in my chest and pray that he doesn’t suspect anything is wrong with me. If he were to ask me if I was okay, I would instantly start crying without a doubt.

“Let's go get some breakfast. You look exhausted. I mean- in a good way…”

I can’t help but snort at his anxiousness- usually, I’m the one who’s tongue-tied and nervous, so seeing it on someone else makes me realize how silly I must look in these types of situations. Not that it's a bad thing- I actually think it's really cute.

“I am exhausted- I hardly slept last night.”

“Got a lot on the mind?”

I nod and slip my hands into my pockets, “Yeah… It's actually pretty similar to what you’re going through.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Except my mom wanted me to stay in Amity- I wanted to go into Dauntless. She stopped talking to me the day I told her I wanted to transfer. Well, she stopped talking to me after she finished telling me how disappointed she was in me and how she didn’t think I could make it.” It's strange hearing myself say it out loud. My voice didn’t tremble when I said it, but my vision became hazed with tears. I hope that he can’t see that through the dim blue lighting of the hallway. I have a feeling that it was easier to tell Al about my past because my privacy had already been invaded today- or whenever it was that Peter had stolen my journal.

“That's awful… Did she even say goodbye to you during the Choosing Ceremony? Or- wait, you don’t have to answer that- it's personal. It’s not my place to be asking about that sort of thing… Sorry…”

I look at the ground, almost unphased by his question, “No, it's okay… She did say goodbye to me, but it wasn’t really- her… you know?”

He looks at the ground as well, “Yeah…" he's quiet for a second, "Hey, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” I look up again and try to discreetly wipe the tears out of my eyes, but I’m almost positive that he had already figured out that I started crying a few seconds ago.

“Let's just forget the whole thing, alright?” I smile and lace my fingers between Al’s.

He seems caught off guard by the gesture- looking up at me with wide eyes at first but soon easing into a soft smile. I don’t think either of us knows if this is platonic or romantic, but I know that neither of us cares.

╳╳╳

When we get to the dining hall, we unlink our hands, grab plates and sit next to one another at a table with Al's friends.

“Guys, this is Aria- Aria, this is Tris, Christina, and Will.”

I smile at the three others sitting across from me, “Nice to finally talk to you guys- Sorry I hadn’t introduced myself earlier…”

Christina is the first to talk, “Ah, don’t worry about it. It's not a crime to be a little shy.”

I smile and exhale through my nose as if to chuckle, then start filling my plate.

“I have to say, you’re very impressive.” Will looks at me and nods.

“Oh- thank you! Wait, why am I impressive? I barely made it through stage one.”

“Because-” he takes a bite of his toast- “Amity-born very rarely transfer to Dauntless which has to mean that those who do usually don’t make it. Amity- all about kindness; so much so that they often lack the common sense required to know how to defend themselves.”

My smile becomes a neutral expression- I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.

“...Where did you hear all of this?”

“I’m an Erudite transfer- I used to read a lot about the factions when I was in school- and outside of school. I’m just telling you the facts,” he continues.

I pause, suddenly losing an appetite- but then I realize that he’s not completely wrong. It's the whole reason that I transferred. “Unfortunately, I can’t say that you’re wrong. But me making it this far should prove that I never really belonged there in the first place.” I resume putting a couple slices of toast onto my plate.

“Oh, your progress isn’t the only thing tells me that you weren't meant for Amity. The fact that you didn’t just defend your past faction or tell me that my observations were “rude” is the deal-breaker for me.”

I smirk and begin to eat my breakfast while Christina adds on to the conversation.

“You do look Amity though. You look the complete opposite of Dauntless- it's crazy. Like, seeing such an innocent-looking person dressed in all black and kicking ass during training is definitely strange.”

I put my hand over my mouth and try to contain laughter; I never really took into consideration that I stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else.

“I look like a horrible Dauntless impersonator at best.” I chuckle after I swallow my food; everyone else laughs with me.

“Ever thought about getting piercings or something? I mean you already have that tattoo, but it's almost always covered up.” Christina gestures towards my left arm. She’s referring to the large tattoo of a bare tree that takes up most of my inner-forearm.

“Maybe,” I respond, lifting my sleeve to show anyone who had never seen it before. I honestly am kind of surprised that Christina noticed at some point before today. I didn’t think anyone really paid any attention to me.

“What are we talking about over here?” I feel someone grasp my shoulders tightly in their hands and kiss my neck.

I pull my neck down and lean forward to jerk away from whoever just violated me.

When I turn around, I immediately feel like I’m about to be sick.

“What the fuck?”

Peter wraps his arms around me just beneath my arms and rests his chin on my shoulder, “I’m sorry, honey, am I embarrassing you?”

I pry his hands off of me and stand up to face him, ignoring everybody’s confused and concerned looks- especially Al’s.

“No, you’re embarrassing yourself. Don’t touch me again.” I growl at him, my fists clenched at my sides.

He takes a couple steps closer to me and puts his hands on my waist, “I love when you get mad.”

I quickly push his wrists down as soon as I process what's happening and knee him between the legs. I watch him fall to his knees and hold his stomach, getting satisfaction from his grunts of pain.

“Then I bet you loved that.”

The little altercation got some attention; everyone in the next row of tables over is staring at me now. My face is hot again- I can tell that my cheeks are bright red, and I hate it. I hate what just happened. I know exactly what he was doing and why, and I have to resist the urge to kick him in the jaw while he’s still on the ground. I can’t even think about turning around to look at Tris, Christina, Will or Al- I fear the questions that are bound to be thrown my way.

Without a word, I walk out of the dining hall as quickly as I can without looking like I’m running; I need to be alone.