#i’d know her blind type shit man

[unwelcome-tagalong]

btw when the Inquisition Theme surges and swells to overtake the combat music during Blood of Arlathan just as the tide of the battle changes bc Solas is helping you, my soul left my body and this cruel earth behind for a moment and i met god. if you even care

[distant--shadow]

The witch and the widow chapters 1-4 author’s notes

Ok, so first off I feel I gotta preface this by saying I am absolutely not a history buff. Kinda the opposite of one really. I was one of less than 10% of the kids in my year of 300 or so that didn’t take history at GCSEs, mostly caus a subject taught and based around names and dates etc is the definition of something not suited for my type of brain, also I hugely lost interest in it caus we moved past the fun trebuchet eras and all that real fast and it became of slog of me falling asleep in lessons caus I had a teacher whose method was putting on movies and shutting the blinds (I’d always fall asleep and he was later jailed for being a p*edophile, so that’s a thing.) Anyway, all that to say I’m not good at this shit, but as ive gotten older I have taken a bigger interest in queer history in particular, and that often if not always links into other areas such as fashion, women’s rights, religion,the arts, class, and race etc. (I’m still not good at names and dates though!)

They are outfitted and arsenalled - the stones of the wall - in a manner to rival any army; tapestries of red and gold perhaps once brandished on battlefield as banners promenading around death now retired and indoor-still-air-still as taxidermy giving colour between all of the shades of metal, burnished and polished and in some cases rusting, some still purposefully left blood-stained, swords and pikes and maces arranged in wallpaper patterns as though flowers or fans, sword-sheath beams spreading from chest-plate armour suns.

Let’s start with something easy and recent. The Baron’s armoury was inspired by a few castles I’ve visited, these rooms are always so bizarre to me. I don’t know if this is at all of the time/how they were decorated or a more recent thing, but either way it’s pretty wild but I do love the visual and metaphor of it. In this one castle I found out from talking about the carpentry to an attendant that the decorative ceiling work around the chandelier above the dining room table actually hid a trapdoor - and there was other hidden doorways for passages and to secret rooms in this castle, that’s not that unusual - but this particular trapdoor was to allow for the chandeliers to be switched out. Why? Caus they had them in multiple colours of glass, and the lady of the castle liked the chandelier to co-ordinate with her dress if they were having guests round. Aint that such a flex? Definitely some food for future thought.

Aight. Clothing. So anyone that chats fic/au to me or is in my server has probably heard me yell to go watch Kaz Rowe’s videos many times. As I’ve said this fic aint meant to be historically accurate but it does kinda straddle histories, one of which being our own; so women wearing trousers and the like at this time would still be a crime, and draw a lot of attention . Imogen in men’s clothing genuinely isn’t meant to be much of a gender thing but a thing of practicality, and she has mostly lived in the countryside or in the outskirts, so she does not get into the trouble she would should she go into the towns and cities (another reason to keep away past the potential noise, but this Imogen will happily don a dress or skirts if she needs to, she’s just usually working – and maybe it’s a bonus that dressing as a man acts as a sort of flagging for any women who might be interested lol.)

I guess here I should mention how I think this version of Imogen's powers and how they’ve manifested (along with everyone else being unaware of them) will have somewhat changed her disposition and personality, it is a lot more aligned with later campaign Imogen who has more confidence and empowerment, she hasn’t been ostracised for her abilities or particularly bombarded by them, think more like when she has her circlet on, she chooses to listen in (mostly), although of course she has still heard many terrible things (and her life has still been pretty brutal but that’s to be written still).

(it’ll be really fun in this regard getting to explore and explain this version of Laudna, but early days for giving much away on that yet!)

Her skirts are full and structured and plumed by many layers of petticoats that hide the movement of her feet across the wildflower lawn, causing her to appear to be drifting like the bees do from petal to petal, pollen dusting her pleats though ghostly her skin in contrast to the fine fabrics that she dresses for the part, black in mourning, still, bodice tight and sleeve leg of mutton, an ornate decorative layer of black lace laying over each yard of textured textile like spider webs on porcelain patterns, her husband's tableware collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard.

real impractical for how tending towards practical the Lady dares to be, hands on, too busy for errant hairs in piano key ivory and ebony windswept and loose from the high bun she pins in place with a cameo broach, a memento mori engraved in silver and inlayed with ruby eyes and tied with red ribbons. Her skin also proudly displays the age and perhaps trauma that her hair does, lines from laughter and furrowed brows and the feet of the crows that cry from the top of the chimney pots

A little note as to say that Laudna’s appearance is heavily influenced by Victorian mourning wear, with some of the clothes cuts altered to be a little bit more regency and earlier in places. (her  attire is a little outdated, further suggesting her distancing from society and fashion)

A couple of days ago Imogen happened upon a bird with an injured wing, crying helplessly and rolling in circles, feathers taking flight away from the bird that could not, settling around it as it panicked itself bald-

The bird could not live without the use of its wing, and it didn’t, whether that was by Prosciutto or a fox, only its feathers were left in a pile.

Imogen had gathered them into an empty burlap sack; taken them to one of the maids downstairs to clean, repurpose them for filling pillows.

Here’s a silly little easter egg for my p(r)oof reader. Last time he visited we was enjoying a cinnamon roll from the local bakery by the city river (as you do) and a cyclist hit a seagull. It was real distressing, the seagull was distressed too. A handfull of middle aged women stood around it not wanting or knowing how to intervene as its wing was twisted at a crazy angle and it flapped about in a pile of its own feathers, there’s still bird flu about so it is wise to not touch wild birds, and as bleak as it is I was saying to freshy that a wild bird who’s wings broken like that is gonna die, and probably slowly and painfully. Some man came along and lifted up the bird to take the bird off the path and laid it to rest behind an old bridge building, I think he must have mercy killed it too as the bird was already dead when we walked past 10 or so minutes later after finishing our cinnamon roll and giving a cautious glance. So there’s a nice happy memory thrown in there for him.

what appears to be driftwood breaches the surface, then another point, then another

the water belches

Ceviche scares, whinnying as he rears onto his back legs, the Lady leaning forward and clinging to his harness. Imogen stands in her stirrups, leaning across the gap over to the black stallion, grasping his reins and cooing

“All good, boy, all good-”

What had appeared to be driftwood lands on the surface with a slap, looking like the carcass of an old boat left to rot in the muddy bed of a dock, timber ribcaged and leathered skin cladding.

A femur surfaces, followed by a jaw.

Second easter egg for the p(r)oof is a quick one (I’m such a considerate writer, I know.) On a train ride to a loch we went to for a day out there is a stop that is on another lake/body of water, and right by the train tracks (which are at water height) there are 4 or 5 old ships stuck in the mud, most of them just the frames/structures of the old boats, mostly wood and some bits of metal, but they’re pretty big boats! It really looks like whale carcasses. I’ve always wanted to get of there and check it out, and we were gonna stop by on the way back but my health being what it is was giving me some grief that day so we missed 2 trains and then soon the daylight, so hopefully next time buddy.

There’s alotta meat and gore talk and Imogen being a vegetarian without the label for such is just another way of me playing round with all of her complex feelings about what the Lady might be doing, her feelings towards Angharad butchering and nourishing the women with these communal stews and all of that. I’ve been vegetarian myself for 20 years now, and it was all triggered by an existential crisis in my mid teens (still a huge fan of leather and blood though) – Imogen greatly cares about animals, struggles with the thought of anything being slaughtered, she is in some ways more empathetic than most because she knows those she does on so much more of a personal level, really feels how someone is reacting to a situation they are in, but also because of this she knows humans are often corrupt and vile and she is spared such thoughts from animals, only knows their instincts and the love and comfort and service they bring – and yet she will obsess over the Lady’s (potential) tooling on that saddlework leather that’s really fucking brutal if she thinks about it one way and beautiful if she thinks about it another hmmm what if everything’s not black and white.

Oh, and the stew is a homage to @picturesofthegoneworlds’ pre-campaign fic Intertwined which I am lucky enough to co-parent and her writing is hugely influential on mine.

There’s a few things being bread crumb trailed here that I can’t explain in the author notes yet, but I’m looking forward to when I can. One small detail I will give away is just a silly thing about the chapter headings. They are something of significance from within the chapter, given in its ‘proper’ name – maybe someone gets access to some books to do research at some point?

anyways, thanks @astoriacolumnstaircase for enabling me. will do another post like this for future chapters if folks find it interesting.

[justmeinadaze]

Ghost in the Machine Part 2 (Eddie X You)

A/N: It seems I need Daddy Eddie lately <3

Warnings: Daddy Rockstar Eddie and Fem Stripper Sub Reader, SMUT, degrading, dirty talk, FLUFF, ANGST, reader mentions that she doesn't talk with her parents, fears about releasing control, Eddie doesn't push her (He's a sweet boy), mentions of their jobs and the negatives. Nothing too dramatic in this one.

They do have a text conversation in the beginning and Eddie's is in red.

Word Count 4511

Part 1 Here

“Good morning, pretty girl. Or afternoon rather. I don’t know. All I know is I’m up.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to say I hope you have a good day and we should be finished by about 7. See you later!”

You smile at the messages Eddie had sent you wondering if you should reply. You didn’t want to seem too eager but you didn’t want him to think you didn’t care. 

Ugh! What is it about this man that is making me think shit like this?

Throwing your phone aside, you decide to not respond and go about your day like you normally would. The problem was you didn’t have anything to do. After taking a shower and making lunch you found yourself sitting on your couch zoning out as you scrolled through the tv. After a while you gave up, throwing the remote on the table, and grabbing your laptop. 

I shouldn’t look him up. We’re going to talk later and what’s online probably isn’t all true anyway. 

Sighing, you guiltily type his name in the search bar and browse what comes up. 

As to be expected, a lot of information about Corroded Coffin came up first. You skimmed through regular bio pieces about how they formed and how excited they were when their first single became popular. A few had videos attached that you played, watching how Eddie behaved. He was slightly reserved during each interview, trying not to sound nervous as he spoke. When you found some videos with fans, however, his whole demeanor changed. He became so much more animated and smiled wide as he talked to people especially little kids who had on Corroded Coffin t-shirts. 

There were a few tabloid reports about actresses he supposedly dated or slept with. One article had a blinding white light flash in his face as he tried to shoo away the people taking the photo. One of the articles had a video of him being thrown into a cop car, sticking out his tongue as they drove away. 

Is this who he really is?

You began feeling yourself get antsy forcing you to click away from articles like that and scroll through his social media. It looks like the only thing he had was an Instagram he barely used however a lot of the pictures he did have made you smile. There was one fairly recently with him standing next to an older gentleman who was wearing a shirt with their band name as they both stood backstage at what you assumed was one of their concerts. Eddie was holding up the rock & roll symbol as the other man was mid laugh. 

Your phone suddenly dinged as a message came through. 

“Hey sweetheart. We’re taking a little break here but we’re almost done so I should be there in about an hour or so. Is that ok?”

“Yeah, Eddie. No problem.”

Closing your device, you began to get ready for your visit from a famous rockstar. 

#####

Eddie smiled wide as you giggled at his story about the shoot. When he showed up, his hair was relatively styled and he was wearing some light make up they put on him. While you two ate the food he brought, he regaled you with stories of other photo shoots that had been way more chaotic as well as some stories from the road. 

He did make a mental note that you didn’t respond with stories of your own or even say anything really. You continued to grin as you sat there nodding your head and intently listening in as you hung on to his every word. 

“Well, sweetheart, as much as I enjoy talking about myself, I’d love to know a bit more about you.”

“Oh, there isn’t much to tell.” 

His eyes scanned over you as you took a sip of your drink, avoiding his gaze. “Why do I doubt that?”

“Good question because you shouldn’t.” The metalhead tilts his head to your remark, relishing your sassy tone. “Honestly, there isn’t much to me. I moved here, I strip. I’m broke so I signed up for the ‘side business’ and now I’m here.”

“Mhmm and before you moved here?”

“I lived somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“None of your fucking business.” 

This time Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he glared in your direction. Sass, he loved, but out right disrespect was something completely different.

“Look at me. I said look at me, little girl!” His voice raised as you turned away from him at his first request. “I can handle your attitude but you will treat me with respect and not fucking talk to me like that. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.”, you sneer through clenched teeth. 

He weighs the options of forcing you to say it correctly. You weren’t technically his yet but you had let it flow so freely from your lips last night that he considered giving you a bit more of a taste of what a relationship with him would be like or at least the kind he preferred. 

“Good.”, Eddie exhales. “Y/N, I’m not trying to pry but I’m not one of your clients or whatever. I genuinely just want to learn more about you.” He notices you soften slightly so he jumps on the opportunity. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we play a game.”

“Game?”

“Yeah, a game. Think of it like twenty questions. I imagine you did some snooping today before I came over which I also assume has you wanting to ask some questions of your own. Ask me anything you want and I swear I’ll answer but in return I would like you to do the same.”

When your eyes find his chocolate ones again, you can’t help but smile at him. He seemed so sincere and you already told him you struggle with releasing control like that so you thought he would know how to guide you through while getting you to slowly open up. You finally nod and his grin grows.

“Ladies first.”

“Oh, I feel special.”, you smirk. “Ok, um, on your Instagram there’s a picture of you backstage with an older man. Is that your dad?”

Eddie blinks as he scoots a little closer to you. “Interesting. Before I answer, may I ask why out of all the questions, THAT is your first one?”

“You seemed different next to him, happier. It made me the most curious.”

“Fair enough. Wayne was very much like a dad but he’s my uncle. He raised me for a good chunk of my life.” He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “Do you get along with your family?”

“Define ‘family’.”

“How about we stick with mom and dad for now?”

Swallowing, you push down the urge to tell him to fuck off. “My parents and I haven’t talked in a very long time.”

He nods before taking a sip of the beer in his hand. “Yeah, I know how you feel.”

Eddie’s eyes briefly flash that same glint of loneliness you noticed after he gave you his phone to put your number in. Your brain runs through multiple topics to ask, fearing that if you stay on your current one, he’ll want to dig more into your history or he’ll continue to be hurt by his own. 

“Your turn, sweetheart.”

“I’m scared.”

His eyes immediately locked with yours as he searched with concern. “Of me?”

“No. I told you last night I struggle with letting go of control. A lot of my history…my life…I’ve kept to myself and never really talked about it. I get the vibe that your kind of the same. I don’t want you to be hurt or force yourself to tell me things.”

Eddie turns his body a bit more to face you as he speaks. “Y/N, you’re right. I don’t go around talking about my history because it’s not something people need to know especially since 99% of the people that walk into my life walk right back out again. But…I don’t know, baby. Maybe I’m just really hoping you’ll stay.”

You pleasantly sighed at his last sentence and he smiled in your direction. 

“How about this? How about we talk shop. I tell you what I’m looking for in a relationship and vice versa.”

“Can we still do the questions? Because I have a few there.” Eddie’s grin grows as he nods. “You said you want to talk care of me. What exactly would that entail?”

“Everything, I guess. I want to talk with you about things like our days or anything really. I want you to feel comfortable being open with me not just emotionally and mentally but physically.  I want to kiss you till your lips are numb. I want to make you cum till you beg me to stop and then some. I really want to handcuff you to my mattress and fuck your tight little pussy till you can’t walk straight.”

Your eyes closed as you tried to control your breathing. 

“Was that too much?”

“No, no. I, um, so this wouldn’t be…intimate?”

Eddie blinked again as his head tilted. “Define intimate.”

“Are you going to get jealous about men at my job?”

“Are you when it comes to mine and other women?” You shake your head and he nods. “No I won’t get jealous but I want you to know that…you at least don’t have to do that ‘side business’ anymore. I can help you if you need money for anything.”

“Eddie, I can’t take advantage of you like that.”

“How about you think about it this way? Instead of fucking multiple men, you’ll only be fucking me. I can give you however much you usually make in a night and then some.”

It’s your turn to nod as you push some hair back behind your ear.

“Is there anything you don’t like, Y/N? Something I should steer clear of.”

“Don’t…hurt me. I mean I like it rough but not too rough you know?”

“Gotcha. So no canes, flogs, or any of that other stuff?”, he playfully smiles. 

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“What?! Pretty girl like you in your field doesn’t know about that side of the BDSM spectrum?”, he asks in a lighthearted tone making you laugh. 

“What about you? Anything I should avoid?”

“A couple. One I’m a little steadfast on, the other has some wiggle room.” Eddie takes a sip from his drink before placing it on your coffee table. “I, um, I struggle with being touched. I spend so much time getting grabbed on day in and day out sometimes I just need a minute.”

“I understand that.” His eyes shift to you as he watches you speak. “I mean, obviously, as a stripper men think I’m free reign. When I have a bad day or something I just need people to go away. Can you let me know? Like whenever we see each other, if you don’t want to be touched just tell me and I can fuck off.”

Eddie laughs at your choice of words and it makes your smile widen. You liked his tooth filled laugh; it seemed genuine. 

“Of course. But I expect you to do the same.”, he scolds with joke filled eyes.

“Yes, sir.”, you giggle. “What was the other thing?”

“Disrespect. I can handle sass but disrespect…”

“Define disrespect.”

“The way you answered me before. ‘None of your fucking business’.”, he mimicked making you blush. “I don’t like that. Don’t talk down to me either.”

“Aw, poor rockstar. You don’t like being talked down to or put in your place?” You knew what you were doing and so did he. When he glanced your way again, you could see the fire. It wasn’t necessarily angry but more like he was amused. Now if this is what that looks like, you’d hate to see fury because his beautiful brown eyes were currently burning holes into your own. 

“I don’t know, whore. Do you?” Your mouth fell open at his response as he slung his arm over the back of your couch and scoot so close to you that his knee was touching yours. “I’m not like the other men you fuck, Y/N. I’m not going to throw a tantrum because you talk back or leave because you hurt my feelings. I have no problem playing your game and putting you in your place.”

“Said the man who struggles with ‘disrespect’.” You say the last word in a deep, sarcastic dad tone as you grin wickedly in his direction. The chuckle that leaves his lips, however, startles you as he looks away and runs his hand over his shirt, pretending to straighten it. 

“Oh, baby. I can’t wait for you realize sentences like that have consequences.” Eddie continues to look anywhere else that isn’t your face and it kills you. You desperately want his attention again. “You said nothing too rough but what about things like choking or hitting?”

“I don’t mind either. The, um, the way you choked me last night was okay.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“No. I’ve never done this before.”

“Ok, we can utilize the stop light system. If I ask you what color you’re at, green is good, yellow is slow down, and red is stop. Just say red if you feel uncomfortable.”

“Alright, Eddie.”  You growl in frustration as his eyes remain downcast. “Eddie? Please… can you look at me?”

“Oh? Little girl wants my attention? After being a brat a moment ago, I don’t think you deserve it.”

Your instinct is to touch his chest and curl up on his lap, cooing in your high pitch voice you use on the job to get him to do what you want but after his confession about being touched you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Plus, you have a feeling your normal tactics won’t work on him here.  

Sliding onto the floor, you place yourself on your knees next to his leg.

“Please, Daddy.”

Eddie’s chest deflated as his eyes closed, trying to hide the pleasure hearing you say that gives him. When he opens them again, they meet your big doe ones as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. 

“I really did just come over with the intention of talking to you.”

“I know. We can still just talk if you want to or maybe we can watch a movie…” As you glance towards the tv, he places two of his fingers under your chin, and turns your face back to look at him. 

“We’re not going to watch a movie, sweetheart.���

“Oh, um, ok. Do you want to maybe see my bedroom?”

Eddie nods and as he rises to his feet, he extends his hand for you to take, helping you off the floor. 

“What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

He steps into your personal space and just like last night you can feel his cigarette smelling breath warming your lips as he hovers just above them. 

“Thank you…?”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you whisper. 

“Good girl.”

When you don’t move his smile widens as he gestures down a hallway with his eyes and you laugh nervously before leading him to your room. 

“Aw, this is cute.”, he grins as he looks around taking everything in. 

“What did you expect, Mr. Munson? Some neon lights with a stripper pole in the middle.”

You watch him as he continues to explore, ignoring your sass as he scans through your music.

“Geez, I didn’t think people bought albums anymore.”

“I do. I like the way they sound.” Walking over to where he was standing, you run your fingers through you collection and pulled out one he definitely recognized. 

“Well shit. I didn’t know we sold any physical albums either.” Taking the Corroded Coffin album from your hand, he quickly gave it a once over before handing it back to you. “Seems like you don’t listen to it very much.”

You shrug as you place it back in with the others. “What album gets you in the mood for work?”, he asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re getting ready for the evening to go to a client’s house or to the club where you dance. You know it’s going to be a long night of hoots, hollers, and flirty touches with drunk assholes until 3am. What do you listen to, to get you mentally in that headspace?”

“I don’t know to be honest. I think it just depends on my mood.”

“Let me ask you this then. Did you listen to music when you got ready to come over last night? What did you put on?”, he asks when you nod. 

Lightly moving him to the side, you grab the album on top of another stack by the record player and set it up before carefully dropping the needle on the record.

“You keep dreaming and dark scheming Yeah, you do You're a poison and I know that is the truth All my friends think you're vicious And they say you're suspicious You keep dreaming and dark scheming Yeah, you do.”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours as the man begins to sing and he can see the music already affecting you as you begin to lightly sway. 

“It’s a band called Two Feet. They’re rhythm and lyrics just…” Your voice trails off as he continues to watch you. He doesn’t move or say anything and his strong, powerful demeanor is making you wetter by the second. This time you move, pushing your body so close to his you can feel his heartbeat against your own chest. His chocolate eyes scan your face before landing on your lips. 

“I feel like I'm drowning I'm drowning You're holding me down and Holding me down You're killing me slow So slow, oh no I feel like I'm drowning I'm drowning.”

“Please, Daddy.”, you whisper, desperate to feel his mouth on yours. 

Eddie obliges tilting down to kiss you firmly as his fingers tangle in your hair to bring your face as close to his as possible. Walking you backwards towards your bed, he falls on top of you as his lips continue to dance with yours. 

“Y/N...I need to hear…hear you agree to…what I’m asking for.”, he pants out between each peck and heavy breath. 

“I—we can end it at any time?”

“Of course. Of course, sweetheart.”

“Ok. Ok, Eddie.”

He softly smiles as his fingers caress your cheek. “Can I see your body? Can you show it to me, please?”

“Please? I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You treat me with respect and I’ll do the same.” 

Rolling to his side, he allows you space to remove your shirt and pull down your jeans with your panties.

“No bra? Naughty little girl.”, Eddie teases as runs his hands along your legs. “You really are beautiful, princess.” Guiding your leg over his waist, you licked your lips as you felt the tips of his fingers glide ever so gently up and down your inner thigh. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet and you’re making a mess already.”, he chuckles with slight condescension that has you pouting.

“Oh, come on now, pretty girl. Don’t make that face. Is all of this for me?” When you only nod, his palm lightly but firmly slaps down against your folds making you yelp. “Properly, please. I want to hear you. I always want to hear you.”

“Y-yes, Daddy. It’s all for you.”

You both groan as he slides his fingers between your lips, the sound of your slick causing the bulge in his own jeans get tighter as it pressed against the denim.

“Fuck me, baby. Can Daddy taste you? Are you going let Daddy make you feel good?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please. I need you to.”

After yanking his shirt over his head, he tosses it to the floor and slides his body between your legs, tenderly kissing parts of your skin along the way. When his tongue licks a long stripe through your folds, your eyes roll back as you loudly moan.

Eddie can’t help but laugh under his breath at the sound. 

“Do you like how my tongue feels, pretty girl?”

“S-so wide. Please don’t stop.”

He does as you ask and your whole body comes to life as he explores every part of your cunt; making mental notes at what makes your whimper the loudest. Coming off you, he gathers some of your arousal with his fingers and slowly pushes two of them into your entrance.

“Goddamn it, sweetheart. You are so fucking tight.” His mouth eagerly wrapped around your clit as he pumped his digits inside you. Eddie’s eyes remained on your face as he watched you squirm and play with your breasts. 

“Yes, Daddy! Pl-please! I’m gonna…”

“That’s it, baby. Let go and cum for Daddy.”

Practically screaming, your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against him. Eddie continued to lick you, smirking as he felt your body twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Kissing his way up to your lips, his smile grew wider as you beamed up at him with hooded eyes. 

“You did good, princess. You taste so good and your pussy is so tight. I’m going to ruin you when I fuck you.”

“You’re not going to fuck me now?”, you whine.

“No, Y/N. Not tonight.”

“Do I get to at least make you cum?”, you ask gesturing towards his groin. 

Leaning against your headboard, he collects you to his side till your head was on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around you as he kissed your forehead. 

“You want to make Daddy cum, honey? Go ahead and take out my cock.”

Your eyes remain on his as you tug at his belt with one hand before unbuttoning his pants and guiding them down his hips enough for his cock to spring free. You had felt him the night prior but seeing him now made your eyes widen. He really was going to ruin you.

“You can touch me.”, he murmured.

Licking your palm, you reached out to hold him and his dick twitched at the contact. Your mouth salivated as your thumb grazed the pre cum already dripping from his slit. Eddie deeply exhaled at the action but as you leaned forward with the intention of choking on his cock, his hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. 

“Nu uh. I said you could touch me not taste me.”

“Please, Daddy. I really want to.” He shook his head and you whined. You actually whined like a child as you crooned your face into his neck. 

His fingers roughly tugged on your hair, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“Who’s in control here?” Your lips formed into a thin, defiant line causing him to yank harder making you moan at the action. “Answer me.”

“You are, Daddy.”

“If you want to keep giving me that fucking attitude, Y/N, I can jerk myself off while you watch. Be grateful I’m allowing you to do anything.”

“Can I at least spit, please?”

Taking hold of your palm, he brings it to his lips as he lets a glob of spit fall into it and places your hand back around him. Watching his face, it killed you that it was now contorted in annoyance. You wanted him to feel as good as he had made you feel.

As you began to stroke him, you curled your body closer to his and tenderly kissed his cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to give you attitude. I just want to feel you in my mouth so badly.” Eddie moaned at your confession as your hand twisted around him, your thumb occasionally grazing his tip. “I want to feel you in the back my throat. I want you to feel me gag around you and make a mess over your cock.”

His calloused palm ran down your side till you felt his fingers pinch your nipples making you mewl in his ear. 

“That’s right, Daddy. Touch me. Use me to cum.”

“Fuck. F-faster, baby.”

“Is that you need, Daddy?”, you coo as you pump him quicker, squeezing your hand tighter around him.

Eddie’s lips land on yours for a passionate kiss as his tongue massages your own. You mewl at the taste of yourself as his mouth travels down your cheek to your ear.

“Your hand feels so good on me, sweetheart. Fuck… maybe if you beg me…D-Daddy will let you swallow his cum.”

As his lips and tongue caressed your throat, his ear hovered just close enough to your mouth for you to whisper you pleas to him as he groaned at the sound. 

“Please. Please let me taste you, Daddy. I’ll be a good girl. I promise. Please…”

Eddie’s jaw went slack and you felt his face scrunch against your skin. Roughly gripping the back of your neck, he guided you over his cock and you opened your mouth just enough for him to thrust himself inside of you. 

“Fuck me, babygirl. Your mouth is so fucking warm. Don’t move. Daddy’s going to give you what you want.”

After a few more sloppy movements of his hips, he grunted above you as you felt ropes of his release hit your throat. As soon as his hands fell, you utilized the opportunity to run your tongue along his tip, licking him clean. 

Gently kissing up his stomach, you laid your head on his chest as you listened to him breathe. It took him a while before his fingers finally reached up to play with your hair as he laid his arm on top of the one you had strewn across him. 

“Eddie? What are the rules for after?”

“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Do you want me to go?” You didn’t see but he softly smiled as you held him tighter.

“No…but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I’m actually quite comfortable if I’m being honest.”

“Me to. Which is new for me.” He cranes his neck to look at you and you lean back a bit so your eyes can find his. “If I’m being honest.”

“I don’t know if this needs to be said, Y/N, but you’re safe with me. If at any point you do feel uncomfortable or you need tell me something please feel free to be open with me.”

Nodding, you smirk as you sit up, grabbing the bottom part of his jeans at the legs and tug them off before throwing them aside. Eddie watches you with amusement, grinning as well as you tug his shirt over your head and climb back into bed to pull his boxers back up over his hips. 

Turning off your bedside lamp, you take his hand, and place his arm over your waist as you melt your body into his own. Sliding his other arm under your pillow, he leans forward to softly kiss your shoulder as he brings you closer to his chest.

“Good night, pretty girl.”

“Good night, Daddy.”

#######

[cultofdixon]

Patching up the holes in your thoughts

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • After finding a safe space to hold up, given everyone’s injuries, Daryl did his best to keep you safe and remind you…you’re not in that dark place anymore • ANGST/SFW • TW: Hallucinations / Head injury / Blood loss / Anxiety / Concussion

Requested by: Anon

She’s okay we’ve got her

Yeah that spill she took was awful

Did you see the amount of blood?

Guys, Daryl is still in the room. He doesn’t have to relive what happened

Siddiq’s right. Let’s get Y/N patched up

Y/N jolts awake in one of the infirmary rooms behind the main room where all the procedures and check ups happen. She anxiously looked around the room feeling a throbbing pain in her head.

The moment she sat up, Siddiq has stepped in to check on her and gave out an obvious sigh of relief.

“Thank god you’re alright”

“Wha…what happened?”

“You were helping with the bridge when one of the Saviors carrying some planks tuned too quickly knocking you in the back of your head. You had caught yourself but given parts of the floor was still being installed, your foot got caught and you went head first into the concrete.”

“Wow…that’s comedic”

“Mm. If you had woken up and brushed it off? Then maybe. But you were out cold and lost a lot of blood.” Siddiq frowns being careful with her when getting the blood pressure cuff on her as Y/N noticed a few bandages scattered on her arm.

“Did you fail the first stick or something?”

“No, again, you lost a lot of blood. So after you got stitches and bandaged, Daryl donated his blood” He states taking the cuff off when it was normal and checked the bandages to make sure they weren’t irritating. “Did you know he’s a universal blood type?”

“Yes, and what his brother did with it.” She frowns feeling the discomfort. “Don’t you dare abuse that fact”

“Hey, if he agrees to it in the future. Then cool, but the second he says no? Ain’t gonna do it. Besides, you’re the most recent serious case we had.” Siddiq sat on the edge of the bed taking out his flashlight pen, something Rosita found and gifted him. He checks the reactivity in her eyes watching her retract a bit to rub her eyes. “I’ll close the blinds, you could have a migraine from being out for a while. But I’d like to keep you here for a few days. Don’t want you going home where your room is upstairs”

“I could sleep on the couch…but I am enjoying a bed”

“Plus, I’m upstairs in case of anything” Siddiq smiles a little. “And Daryl desperately wants to be in here but Rick and Aaron have been keeping him out”

“Why?”

“He saw everything happened. He was stressed out bringing you here, stressed out watching me assess your injuries, and wouldn’t let me work until I’ve checked everything. So he got kicked out”

“Can he come see me?”

“I’d like to have you try and sleep for a while longer. Or at least an hour to do another neuro check…then he can come in”

“Mm…okay” Y/N was disappointed but never refused doctor’s orders.

The thing is, when he left, she was afraid to go back to sleep. Y/N wasn’t one to fear death but hearing what happened freaked her out. She tried her best to remember it for herself but there were holes in her thoughts.

So she did what was asked…and tried falling back asleep. It didn’t take long.

But something felt off…

“Move!” The familiar voice yells over her making her jolt unconsciously.

“I didn’t do anythin’ man. She was in the goddamn way”

“THE FUCK YOU SAY?!”

“Alright alright! There’s something more important to handle right now! ____ get your fucking shit together and get her to Siddiq” The other familiar voice interrupted the other and the unfamiliar one.

The unfamiliar loomed over her unconscious form as the blank expression that was formed on the blurry body, drove a chill down her spine.

“She’s dead”

“NO SHE FUCKIN’ AINT”

The voice she knew continued to argue with this unfamiliar that became voiceless while the scene moved.

“Wow she’s uh. Really bleeding” a new facial voice came into the channel while the warmth that came from this being brought sensations to her physical body. Like she’s felt this before.

“I can see that. She hit her head, but it doesn’t fucking help that this bastard hit her with a plank that knocked her already—then off balance—and then into the fucking concrete”

“___—“

Daryl

“Daryl, please. Your frustration won’t help this situation”

“It hasn’t on the way over here. Tell me where yea need me ___—“

Siddiq

“Get him out of here unless he’s going to be useful” Siddiq snaps applying pressure to the sound as the familiar took Daryl’s bicep feeling him pull away. Which lead to the familiar full on grabbing Daryl and taking him out of there.

Rick

“She’s okay, we’ve got her” Siddiq reassures Rick when he returned to help him. Soon another familiar came rushing through with another that could help with their infirmary experience.

“That spill she took was awful, not to be gruesome about it. But it was like a fruit being thrown at the ground until it exploded”

“That’s fucking vivid ____”

“Did you see the amount of blood?!”

“___—-! ___—-!”

Aaron

Rosita

“Daryl is still within goddamn earshot. Watch what you’re fucking saying”

“Ricks right. Daryl doesn’t have to relive this, okay?” Siddiq made his partner Rosita take a hold of applying pressure while he had Aaron get an IV in while he did a quick stitch job. “Thank god”

“What?”

“I can see her skull”

“WHY IS THAT A GOOD THING?!”

“BECAUSE I CAN SEE ITS NOT CRACKED OR BROKEN OPEN LIKE A COCONUT!” Siddiq snapped out of anxious habit when others yelled at him. Rick held his hands up defensively before watching Aaron tape the IV needle in place and the yelling triggered the archer to come in.

“Ah hell no!”

“If she’s gonna die I ain’t—“

“She’s not going to die!”

“I ain’t fucking leaving her regardless!” Daryl snaps and no one said another word, all that happened was Rick and Aaron sharing a glance and then quickly taking the archer that fought against the two, back out of the room. His anxiety would only make everything worse.

Then a sudden deep breath escaped Y/N and that startled Rosita and Siddiq, but once he took notice that that action helped her start breathing regularly. Overall relief occurred before the work continued.

“She’s dead”

The unfamiliar voice startled her awake from her unconscious state. Y/N sat up finding Siddiq and Rosita were no longer in the room and all there was was this unfamiliar being with a monotoned voice, compared to how it was on the bridge.

“Go away…”

“She’s dead”

“No…No no no I’m not” Y/N whined, holding her head as she tried to get up and leave. Only to realize she wasn’t in an infirmary bed or in that building anymore.

She’s been moved. She has memory of this. But currently she was in an old state of mind that her concussed state from the main injury was starting to trigger the past issue.

“Please…go away” She cried as she stumbled out of the bed making the thud noticeable to others within the house.

“She’s dead. She lost a lot of blood. How could anyone recover—-“

“Y/N?! Y/N oh my god” Daryl opened the door making this image of an unfamiliar being fade away, indicating she was snapping back into her reality.

But she didn’t know that.

“Hey hey hey, you’re okay. What happened? Did yea fall?” Daryl kept asking as he tried to hold her but she retracted at first. “Y/N…”

“You’re not here…this guy wants to hurt me. You’re not here. You’re not here” She sobbed, and it wasn’t going to be an entirely gentle approach to get her to realize that it was Daryl.

The way she started to corner herself in the room continuing to sob shutting her eyes tight. Daryl frowns trying his best not to fall apart at the sight as he quietly brings himself closer sitting on his knees before her. It was a risk, but he carefully took one of her hands feeling the first retraction—but she felt the familiar warmth from before. But different.

“You comfortable?” His voice was always so soothing and his touch was ever so gentle when it came to her fragile state. “I can get you another blanket”

No I’m okay

“Alright, but I’m stayin’ close.” He smiles bringing the blanket over her before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her hand into his. Rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

You know I won’t break if you leave

“I don’t wanna leave yea”

Can you at least do something when I’m asleep?

“Mmm. You tryin’ to kick me out, sunshine?” Daryl scoffs playfully but he couldn’t help but find himself admiring her smile and laugh again. It was only three days after the accident, and he missed it. He missed it so much.

Of course not, I would love for you to lay with me a while. But I am currently out of service. You can still help rebuild the communities

“Fine. But right now I’m staying” Daryl smiles bringing her hand to gently rest on his cheek so that he could feel that he was there.

“I’m right here, sunshine” His voice was a low whisper that made her re-open her eyes, her blurry tear filled eyes as her thumb gently brushes his cheek feeling the familiar scruffiness he had. “Y/N…”

“I’m sorry…I-I don’t…I don’t know what happened”

“You suffered a head injury…Siddiq warned about your concussion being a bit bad” Daryl frowns bringing himself closer as she brought her other hand to his other cheek. “Hallucinations could happen…not likely but I just…shouldn’t have assumed it not happening”

“…I’m okay now…I think”

“‘M here now. You can’t kick me out cuz imma just stick with yea every day until yer better”

“Please?” Y/N felt the tears fell as he gently brushed them away before bringing his arms around her making her move hers around his neck.

The archer carefully stood while holding his girl and making her legs wrap around his torso until he moved to the bed. Helping her lay down before bringing himself to her other side and laying with her. She carefully brought herself to rest her head against him, making him tense slightly afraid if he moved he’ll hurt her. But she kept her head on his shoulder, part of it where the stitches weren’t.

“I’m never leaving, okay?”

“If…if it happens again” The fear in her voice made Daryl worry as he looks at her waiting. “Will you help me out?”

“I’ll always bring you back, sunshine”

[badgalsasuke]

Hello!

I really don’t understand the popularity of nh. Even when I was a dumb kid who watched Naruto mostly for fights, I couldn’t understand shit when it came to that couple. I honestly thought of Hinata as of Neji’s sister and some kind of a background character. They had little to no interaction, zero chemistry, I couldn’t even call them friends.

How and when did he actually fell for her? (rhetorical question) I still don’t have an answer.

I know that homophobia is still raging, but even if I were a het!shipper I’d be pissed at how far fetched nh is. I saw someone saying that boruto feeds nh fans with some good content. I must be blind because I didn’t see any nh family. It was Sasuke and Naruto raising their kids together. Naruto didn’t even smile to Hinata the way he smiled to Sasuke omg.

Guess I’m having a mental breakdown while writing this lol. But really, denying SNS is the level of blindness, and talking about nh “family moments” is a whole fucking delusion.

hi anon!

I've seen some rabid NH shippers here always posting collages of "NH family moments" but they're all from filler episodes from Boruto, not even the actual Boruto manga, so they're not canon.

As for the popularity of NH, it has more to do with the projection of shippers onto both Naruto and Hinata rather than the actual ship itself.

Men self-insert onto Naruto because he's the main character but also because the underdog trope that's present in Naruto's writing is highly appealing to male audiences, add to that that Hinata perfectly embodies the otaku waifu tradwife fantasy that they indulge in, so of course they want Naruto to be with her. Another aspect they like is that Hinata's entire existence revolves around Naruto and they wish they could have something like that in real life, y'know a girl with big breasts but isn't aware of her sex appeal (because no one likes whores) and the only thing she loves to do is cheer for a man. If Hinata had more going on besides her obsession with Naruto, men wouldn't like her that much. Although, here I must say that what makes her different from Sakura who also doesn't have anything else going on besides her obsession with Sasuke is that Naruto is neutral and polite towards Hinata which allows for a more comfortable space for headcanons unlike Sakura, where most people agree she's pathetic.

As for women who like NH, I've seen a lot of self-insertion into Hinata, they see her as this type of beautiful girl who goes unnoticed because she's shy but at prom dance everybody realizes how drop dead gorgeous she actually is LOL and she gets the popular dude who finally noticed her over the nasty slut (Sakura, idk why they see her like that considering she never wanted Naruto).

I've written more about Hinata and how the fandom seems to react to her here but overall her lack of development and appereances in the manga make her the perfect canvas to project so many fantasies onto her.

[the-stoner-wizard]

I watched SMILE and reacted on Twitter here you go:

8:14 PM: Relatively calm.

I’m bored so I’m gonna do a live reaction to the horror movie I’m watching.

1. Holy fuck that suicide scene was brutal, knew it was coming but fuck

2. Campy dialogue, good scares

3. I fucking hate Holly

4. I’d shit myself if I saw that

5. Cute cat, Joel sucks tho

8:16 PM: Focused on lore.

Laura Weaver is a interestingly in depth character with a whole ass police report bring typed up for her, explaining her trigger in all this. Its a cool detail that not many horror movies do they just say “Oh it happened, imagine it :3” no this DESCRIBES it. V nice.

8:34 PM: Oh we’re yelling now.

YOU FUCKING KNOW THE THING IS RELATED TO SMILES WHY ARE YOU GOING NEAR THE CRAZY MAN GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM IT YOU STUPID BITCH HOLY SHIT GO GO GO NOOOOOO

8:36 PM: Calmer but still scared.

I’m so confused and so beyond fucking terrified its not even funny

8:42 PM: Mostly thinking of solutions

In the case of this movie I think I’d kill myself out of sheer blind panic because this shit is so fucking intense

8:45 PM: I don’t why this is what was in my head

Who the fuck names a cat Mustache

8:48 PM: Yelling again, that scar was rough

FUCK YOU DIRECTOR WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT WAS THAT GOD FUCK JESUS I HAD MY HEADPHONES ALL THE WAY UP YOU SO OF A

8:59 PM: Yelling pt2 absolutely brutal scene, pinned the director out of fear and amazement

THE CAT SCENE. THE BIRTHDAY SCENE. IM UNCOMFORTABLE IM SCARED IM CONFUSED THE DIRECTOR IS A FUCKING GENIUS WHO DIRECTED THIS HOLD ON ParkerJFinn DUDE GREAT JOB THIS SHIT IS FUCKING TERRIFYING YOU ARE A DAMN GENIUS

9:10 PM: Again happy with how good it is

The lore is so limited yet beautifully detailed and executed, clearly theres a world behind this and yet, you only get a hint. Characters seem very real, very authentic, very genuine. This is such a great movie. A master craft of horror.

9:39 PM: Mixed opinions on a v good scene

That scene with the sister was brutal, but that scare was fuckin awesome

9:46 PM: This is a calmer section. Good lore

Again another great lore establishment, a natural car convo where a bunch of shit was revealed about the creature and some things that might be argued as a weakness, covered up and also a possible weakness, it was a great natural way to do a exposition dump.

9:49 PM: Pleased but this scene was super scary

The scene where she talks to a previous victim is so fucking well done. The absolute, complete panic, her anger, all of it is incredible, not to mention the following scene where she imagines killing her patient is mortifying

9:56 PM: I have fully appreciated how good this movie is and have no idea how horrifying it’s about to be

The execution of the scene where the therapist turns out to be Smiley (the monster) was so incredibly well done, absolutely spectacular job. I was horrified but also super impressed from a film making standpoint

10:20 PM: I have realized how horrifying it is. I am yelling again.

THAT LAST TWIST WITH THE HALLUCINATION OF JOEL IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE OH MY GOD THAT IS AGONIZING ALSO THE COOLEST MONSTER REVEAL FUCKING EVER????

10:21 PM: I am resigned to the ending

And oh fuck she’s possessed Joel is cooked

10:22 PM: I have reached the end of my torture. Great movie. Going to see the sequel with a friend.

Oh my fucking god that ending. The scene where the monster crawls into Rose. Her suicide. Joel’s face. He knows he’s cursed. I need this sequel now. What a ending. What a movie. 10/10. This was great. I am devastated. Jesus shit

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 08x20 Pac-Man Fever

“I think the intros show too much. Especially when you’re binging it” “Oh shit. Navy? I don’t know what that uniform is” “Is that Army? But is he on a boat? I think he’s on a boat. No, he’s not on a boat” “So he’s an army medic huh?” Telling Spouse about 91 Whiskey

“I had that computer in 2013.” We rewound the scene several times to look at the computer

“It’s the 2012/2013 MacBook I think” “I’m all for cutting Sam’s hair” laughter

“Uh huh. Yeah I’m fine as he falls over” “I would take a gun range in my basement” “really?” “Don’t bother cleaning up after yourself” “bitches” laughter

“She has teal fingernails” “Dean’s wearing red this time”

“Sam would be the book burning type” “They’re very much wearing the same color red though” “No hearing protection?” “What does the shirt say?” “What are they staking out this time?” I like how Charlie is going shopping with Dean

“Boring” “Are you even trying, Sam?” “Didn’t Cas do that once?” “No interest in the creamy filling? Jesus Christ” “Did we ever get Castiel episodes like this?” No they’re usually more romantic

“It’s the iPhone 4” “It’s going to explode” “what?” “yup” “except idk why they weren’t freaked out earlier” laughter

“I’d be fkn pissed” “uh huh”

“The coroner lady is awkward” “only 3 of each huh?” “what?” “quick to run off” “where the fuck is she right now?” “boo” “that’s not good’ “so that’s her mom?” “I find it amusing that the mother, djinn, and Charlie all have really red hair” “magic” “Is that on the deed? Abandoned shipping warehouse?” “Isn’t he too tired to be stabbing people?” “Idk what the fuck that is” They did African dream root a long time ago

Laughter

“So we’re deaf and blind now?” “Oh we’re back at the beginning” laughter

“Flamingly liberal ? What’s that supposed to mean?” She made it gay

“Well shit” “There’s 256 Pac-Man levels?” “shotgun shells” “What’s up with the head injuries today?” “that was easier than I thought it would be” “that was easy” “What did they take from the djinn? What does it do to you if it’s the wrong djinn stuff?” “huh” “her backpack kinda matches Dean’s shirt” “So she was visiting under an assumed name to not draw attention or something?”

[danmainacc]

FIRST SIGHT

Leo meets (y/n) for the first time....and is absolutely whipped

Character: Leonardo

Writing type: One-shot

Warnings: just some good ol’ fluffy fluff :) but when I tell you Leo is WHIPPED ;) and if you couldn’t tell, this is pre-movie

Author’s note: I promise I’m gonna get to the other turtles soon. I just have Leo on the brain and I can’t get him out !! and let me know if I got too mushy, cause I feel like I did. I feel like i did a bad job on this one, but I’m not sure. you guys let me know. ( header credit to qoeww )

...

“This isn’t exactly how I expected Pizza Thursday to go!” Leo exclaimed as he got into a battle stance, the pizza--monster--yokai--thing roaring, mushrooms and olives flying out its mouth

“Yeah, well I don’t think everyone expects a mutant pizza monster to attack them on their weekly outing,” Donnie sighed, flipping down his goggles as he pressed a button on his staff, two jets appearing at the ends.

“It’s alright. This guy doesn’t seem too tough. We’ll bake him and get back to Pizza Thursday before we kn--MIKEY!! STOP EATING THE MONSTER!” Raph’s eyes went wide as he caught sight of his youngest brother. 

The pizza-yokai cocked a bell-pepper eyebrow, looking down at it’s foot, only to let out a horrified shout at the sight of Mikey nibbling on his ankle.

“Whraf can I sayph? Hessh sawwr goowd!” Mikey smiled with a full mouth, disregarding his brother and continuing to chow down.

“Gross, man,” Leo grimaced, shuddering at the sight as he cringed away from the scene.

Donnie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “’Angelo, if you’re gonna eat him, at least talk without your mouth full.”

“ENOUGH!” The yokai roared, flinging Mikey off his ankle and into Donnie, the two crashing into a window.

“Guys!” Raph exclaimed, snapping his head over to the window, worriedly.

Two shaky thumbs up slowly raised from behind the now shattered window, and Raph let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” Leo spat, his usual shit-eating grin replaced with an icy glare.

“Leo, wait! Don’t r--.” But the sound of a closing portal cut Raph off, making him groan in frustration.

“Rush in.”

Leo appeared in mid-air, right in front of the monster, and sliced off the olives it used for eyes, chopping off its weird crust feet once he landed on the ground.

“Guess you could say I really...sliced things up,” his smirk returned as he proudly stood up, his back to the yokai.

The thing, now blind and footless, let out a blood-curdling roar, swinging and flailing in every direction like a wild animal.

“Leo, behind you!” Raph, Don, and Mikey warned in unison, Leo not turning around fast enough.

The monster’s cheese arm sent Leo flying head first towards a brick wall.

“LEO!” his brother’s frantically shouted, trying to make it to the wall before he collided.

“Nope, nope nope!” Leo quickly said, creating a portal in front of himself just in the nick of time.

Now, instead of having his brains splattered on a wall, he was now strewn over a whole bunch of soft garbage bags.

He let out a sigh of relief, tiredly letting his head lay limp.

‘Never thought I’d be so thankful for trash.’

But as his angle changed, he was able to view the ledge of a rooftop, what he saw making his heart stop dead in it’s tracks.

It felt as if all the world’s distractions were sucked out, horns, sirens, the squeaking of rats, all to let this moment stand alone.

Sitting on the ledge was the most jaw-dropping girl Leo had ever seen.

Her hair, her eyes, skin. Hell, it had looked like she had been dozing off. But her half-lidded smile at the stars made his heart start up again, now thumping twice as fast. 

Leo quickly rubbed his eyes, just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.

He hit his head pretty hard.

But she was still there, looking down at him, actually. She looked concerned.

Wait, was she talking?

“Huh?” Leo groggily asked, shaking himself out of his reverie as he focused on what she was saying

“I asked if you were you alright? You crashed pretty hard,” you called from above, your voice smooth and silky.

Practically music.

“Oh, yeah! I’m okay! Right as reign!” Leo smiled, quickly changing his sprawled out position to a relaxed one, mentally scolding himself once he realized what he said.

‘Right as reign? You are such an idiot.’

A kind smile quirked on your lips. “That still sounded bad. I’m gonna come down,” you squinted, trying to make out the figure below.

Leo frantically got up, dusting off banana peels and stray apple cores as he drew his swords. 

He had to get out of there and fast.

There was no way she could see him. She’d probably be grossed out at the fact he was a turtle-guy.

Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to do nothing else but stay and talk to the super-model before him. 

But being a mutant isn’t exactly the best conversation starter.

You carefully stood up, wary of you balance as you planted a foot right on the ledge.

But, unluckily, the brick fell out, causing you to free fall from the top of the roof.

You let out a terrified yelp, and without a beat, Leo was already in the air, catching you and pulling you tightly against his plastron.

You curiously felt at his plastron, making the poor turtle turn dark red, before opening your eyes, going wide at the sight of him.

In that moment, your stomach dropped to your feet. 

The portal that he just jumped out of was no never mind right now, you were more concerned with him.

Even with the turtle-y parts, you still found this man incredibly handsome. Shit, if anything, the turtle-y bits might’ve assisted in that department.

“Whoa, careful there,” Leo smiled, safely landing on the ground with the two of you still in tact.

“Wouldn’t want you falling for me.”

You smiled as Leo put you down, a soft laugh leaving your lips that made him practically melt.

“Are you alri--.”

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, giving him a quick squeeze.

“Thank you for catching me. I’d probably be dead if you didn’t,” you sighed, the recent events now sinking in.

Leo was thanking the stars that hugs didn’t let you see the other person, because on the other side, he was blushing like a maniac.

“No problem,” he, surprisingly, managed to say without a voice-crack. “What were you--uh--what were you doing on the ledge, anyway?”

The two of you pulled away, and you awkwardly scratched the back of your neck, hoping you didn’t overstep anything with the hug.

“Oh, I just like to sit there and think. The view helps me really focus,” you sheepishly answered, looking up at him through your lashes, the height difference now very clear.

“I’m just glad you were here to catch me.”

He smiled a bashful smile, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs. “It was no biggie.”

You smiled, thoughtlessly checking your watch to see that it was way past midnight.

“Shit. It’s past my curfew. I gotta go,” you sadly sighed, pointing back to your building.

Leo pouted.

You were going? Already? But he had just met you.

“Will I see you again?” he asked, a little more desperate than he wanted.

You grinned, shooting him a nod. “Of course. I got too many questions to not see you again.”

You whipped out your phone, pulling up the contacts app. “Here,” you handed it to him, “Type in your cell so we can text.”

His smile stretched from ear to ear as he carefully took your phone, punching in his number and handing it back to you.

You took the phone back and threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a selfie and taking it in one motion, the poor turtle blurry and blushing.

“There,” you quietly snickered, making the unprepared photo his profile picture. “All set.”

You turned to the turtle, giving him a regal curtsy. “Until we meet again, good sir.”

Leo smirked, playing along and bowing. “Until we meet again, madame.”

And with that, you flashed him one more smile before stuffing your hands in your pockets, walking around the alley corner and right into your complex.

Once Leo was completely sure you were out of ear-shot, he sighed, slumping against the alley wall.

‘That....was amazing.’

He whipped out his phone, his heart wanting to text you right away, but his head knew it was too soon, scraping the idea.

But what he did see, was 15 missed texts from Donnie, 6 from Mikey, and 146 from Raph.

‘Oh, I am so dead.’

...

[howtofightwrite]

We See These Misogynistic Idiots in Our Inbox Occasionally

Anonymous asked:

not to sound like a prey animal on main but i feel like too many people, men and women both, do not actually understand the extent of the strength difference between men and women. it is actually surprisingly easy for a man to kill a woman, in fact it can be done accidentally

The only people who deny it are either blinded by ideology, or have never wrestled with someone of the opposite sex. I had a girlfriend who was extremely athletic, but had only ever played on all-female teams, and her little brothers were very young so she could throw them around. I’m 6’ 4″, and she honestly thought she could hold her own against me.

When I was fifteen, I had a boyfriend who was extremely athletic, but had only ever played against all-male teams. His sport of choice was soccer and his legs were very strong, so he liked to run around kicking other guys in the groin to resolve disputes. (Sorry, Tumblr, he did not turn out to be gay.) One day, we were hanging out at my house and he decided to hug me from behind. I didn’t realize he was behind me, caught his arms moving in my peripheral vision, and nailed him in the solar plexus with my elbow. I did it automatically, just trained instinct. He bowled over, coughing, for a good minute, and continued coughing for roughly five minutes after that. After I determined he was, in fact, okay, I giggled because it was really, rather funny.

We broke up shortly after that. Fifteen year old me figured my body had the right idea about him. The only difference between my incident and yours is I’d been doing Taekwondo since I was six and had plenty of experience working with the opposite sex. I didn’t apply this singular experience of momentarily paralyzing a young man’s diaphragm as a weakness to all men everywhere.

We get MRAs like you every so often on this blog and, honestly, the only men who are wrapped up in the biological/physical differences in male bodies versus female bodies are the ones deeply insecure in their own masculinity. I encourage you to work on coming to terms with yourself and building your confidence in healthy ways outside of comparisons to others. Truly I do, because there are aspects of your ask which are supremely fucked up. We’re going to go over what you said in detail. Not for your benefit, but for the benefit of others.

“not to sound like a prey animal on main”

You sent this on anon. Maybe this is a Reddit thing, but your name isn’t attached so only you will ever experience the full embarrassment of trying to litigate your break-up with a complete stranger.

i feel like too many people, men and women both, do not actually understand the extent of the strength difference between men and women. 

This isn’t “too many people.” This is about your ex-girlfriend. If you’re trying to AITA this shit, I can tell you, in no uncertain circumstances, yes, YTA. (You’re The Asshole, for those of readers who don’t hang in that subreddit.) 

In the real world, not only do most people genuinely believe there’s a greater strength difference than men and women than actually exists, but they don’t realize that after a specific threshold natural advantages (whatever natural advantages exist and different body types have different advantages) cease to make a real difference. Physical strength is one of those. The general population actually puts too much importance on “natural advantages” over training and practice. That happens when people fail to grasp their own ignorance. (People, perhaps unironically, like the person who sent this ask.)I’ve done martial arts for most of my life, strength differences don’t matter to me because I know how to nullify my opponent’s strength. Violence is a lot more complicated than strength v. strength, and also a lot simpler. Force isn’t generated by the upper body alone and force application has nothing to do with the size of a person’s biceps or what they can lift. If flat strength mattered, bodybuilding would be more than cosmetic. The reality is bodybuilders struggle to draw bows. The reason for this ignorance is simple, as most cops will tell you, most people haven’t been in a fight since high school (if they’ve ever been in a fight at all.) This results in a skewed perspective in a society that already trains a skewed perspective on the gender divide from birth. Gender roles are socially manufactured, sorry.

In the professional field, nobody talks about strength because (surprise!) strength doesn’t actually matter. Martial combat is all about learning to utilize the advantages of your own body while stripping your opponent of theirs. You fight with the body you have. Want to fight? Learn to work with what you’ve got. On a practical level, that’s the end of the discussion. The rest is semantics.

Women do martial arts. They practice against men and women. That’s the end.

“it is actually surprisingly easy for a man to kill a woman, in fact it can be done accidentally”

I know this is going to come as a shock, but it is surprisingly easy to kill anyone accidentally. That’s a human thing. While you may feel otherwise, society actually labels women as acceptable targets for masculine aggression and so they are more likely to be on the receiving end from an abusive partner. This doesn’t mean women aren’t abusers, some are, and the treatment of women by society at large means even fewer female abusers get recognized. Male violence against women is unfortunately common. That doesn’t make women weaker. In fact, it gets us into a discussion about societal training and victim blaming for confirmation bias that I don’t feel like getting into.

I’m really hoping you didn’t accidentally kill your ex though. The fact you chose to include this line in your ask is pretty telling about where your mental state is.

“The only people who deny it are either blinded by ideology.”

People who know what they’re talking about don’t deny it, they say it doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing. That’s the difference. However, this line is pure projection. You are blinded by your own ideology. I know this because you came here to argue with me, a third degree black belt who did martial arts for thirteen years. You didn’t stop and consider that my lived experience regarding this subject might be slightly more extensive than yours. Also, you’re relying on confirmation bias to support your point.

Your ideology as expressed in the ask you’ve submitted gears itself toward denying that any natural advantages exist outside of those gifted by size and the upper body’s musculature. Which is, sadly, incorrect. Biologically, it is true that male and female bodies aren’t the same. Historically, in Western countries, we haven’t truly explored the advantages gifted by female bodies, we know remarkably little about female bodies in general. This is largely due to the fact that society is geared toward maintaining male as default. Science knows more about how to give you an erection than it does my period.

However, the gap isn’t as massive as some would like to believe. Different isn’t less.

There are quite a few countries outside the West where the concept of women fighting isn’t alien, or even up for debate. Their history is filled with female rulers, female politicians and power brokers, women going into battle, and practicing martial arts. They’ve even founded martial arts. Europe’s is too, they’re just a little more difficult to locate.

“Women can’t fight” is a cultural invention. Pop culture still largely supports a majority white male default, but that isn’t reality.

“or have never wrestled with someone of the opposite sex.”

Your only example for this is limited to a singular instance, so we’re going to take this with a grain of salt. I can tell you’ve never wrestled with anyone who knows what they’re doing because you put way too much importance on height, specifically being taller than your opponent. Height is actually a detriment against someone who knows how to manipulate it into a particular disadvantage, one that gives an advantage to the biologically female body, we’ll get to that in a second.

Female martial artists regularly practice against men, usually men of all ages because there just aren’t enough participants to break down evenly by sex/gender. If they start young, they’ve been practicing against larger opponents for most of their life. (The same is true for young boys too.)

“I had a girlfriend who was extremely athletic,”

So, being athletic doesn’t mean jack shit. That’s true for both genders. The type of muscles you develop heavily depends on the type of sports you do. In addition, the vast majority of people are completely reliant on their upper body. The upper body strength contest is where men have a natural advantage, they’re better at building muscles in the upper body where women build up muscle more quickly in their core and their legs. Depending on how tall the man in question is, he’ll also start with a leverage advantage. He’s going down, while his shorter opponent is going up.

Both these advantages are nullified by martial arts and completely non-existent against someone who practices wrestling. I don’t mean “wrestling” as in grabbing someone and hauling them around the yard, or professional wrestling which involves professional stuntmen performing choreographed fights, I mean wrestling the sport. This will be covered in the grappling side of martial arts like jiu-jitsu, judo, etc.

Anyone who practices wrestling will perk up when you say, “I’m 6”4” and rub their hands with glee. They all know it’s the short wiry fucks you’ve got to watch out for.

Glee was my response at hearing about your height, by the way.

“but had only ever played on all-female teams, and her little brothers were very young so she could throw them around.”

I find it hilarious that you and your ex engaged in the exact same tactics when it came to the fake wrestling and you came away thinking there was a real difference between you. All your anecdote proved was two humans engage in the same natural behavior. Which is why we tell our that training matters. Neither you nor your ex have any idea about how to utilize your lower body or attack your opponent’s center of balance. Or, you know, leverage. That’s completely normal for untrained people.

In comparison, every one of my boyfriends except Starke have all failed to hold on to me in any meaningful fashion. I had an ex who always tried to playfight and pin in bed. Did it work? No. The answer to this one isn’t strength, it’s knowledge and technique. I know how to grapple and practice wrist releases, he didn’t. I don’t need to be stronger when I can be bendy and slippery instead. There’s no need to force anything.

“I’m 6’ 4″, and she honestly thought she could hold her own against me.”

So, let me explain what happened with your ex. She played sports, which is a confidence builder, especially if you’re good at it, and she’s gotten a lot of dopamine hits from adrenaline. Adrenaline makes you feel good, it makes you feel strong and tough. Both built an overweening sense of confidence that ultimately proved false. That’s a human thing, not a gender/sex thing. This happens all the time to men too. Plenty of guys who scrap in high school think they know how to fight. They don’t. Hell, in the scenario provided, she’s not any different from my high school ex who liked to kick other guys in the balls. He only kind of knew how to use his legs because soccer, and only in the way soccer taught him. (His kicks were cringe.)

Height is physically intimidating to most people, but only because they haven’t spent most of their life physically tackling taller people. The irony is that tall people have a whole slew of disadvantages that make them more easy to deal with than humans of average size or those who are short. In male bodies, the center of gravity is higher due to hip position. The center of gravity in biologically female bodies is lower, meaning they have an easier time maintaining their balance. 

Taller people have to get much lower to the ground to maintain stability, they’re easier to knock over, destabilize, and throw. Their limbs are also longer which makes it much easier to perform joint breaks. Humans with high levels of muscular definition provide you with visual lines straight to all their pressure points. Pressure points are more difficult to locate in biologically female bodies due to the subcutaneous layer of fat.

If you don’t believe me, I encourage you to join any judo or jiu-jitsu dojo. Have fun learning how difficult throwing a five foot, ninety-pound girl can be. (Damn you, Kristen.)

The sexes aren’t as different as you’d like to believe. The real problem for you is your lack of self-confidence, especially when it comes to your masculinity. 

What does it matter that your ex believed she could overpower you? 

Why does the fact she had confidence in herself and her own abilities bother you? 

Why did it irritate or anger that she didn’t automatically acknowledge your (supposed) superiority? 

Why do you need to feel superior?

Healthy relationships are built on mutual regard, understanding, and respect. You obviously didn’t respect your partner’s passion for sports or see it’s value, so it’s not surprising you broke up. All girls who practice sports have heard the whiny bullshit about how they’re not as good as men, how their achievements are meaningless because they’re not men, and how they’ll always be second class. You’re not telling your ex or me anything we haven’t heard hundreds of times before. Thousands, probably.

You know who I never heard that bullshit from? My martial arts instructors. I’ve trained with a lot of men over the years and it never came up, not once. There was no, “boys are better.” They never needed to put down others, exert their superiority, or exclude in order to feel confident and comfortable with themselves. They didn’t need the clubhouse. And, honestly, neither do you.

Let it go.

-Michi

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We See These Misogynistic Idiots in Our Inbox Occasionally was originally published on How to Fight Write.

[mlm-writer]

Alter Egos (Leonard Snart x Bigender!Reader)

Pairing: Leonard Snart aka Captain Cold (LoT ver.) x Bigender Reader (no birthgender specified) For the pride prompt: Bigender reader sometimes presents very masculine, other times very feminine. Their dumbass crush thinks there are two separate people they are in love with and is having severe bi-panic until they find out they are in love with just one person. Rating: Teen and Up Words: 652 POV: Second Summary: You lead a double life and know your crush Leonart Snart in both of them, but for a smart man he is awfully blind. Notes: Happy Pride! See all works for pride 2022 here. Reader is also a criminal in this one. Their bigender experience or birth gender is not mentioned, nor anything about transitioning. This is just fun shenanigans in headcanon format. Tags: romcom, mentions Mick bc I love him, reader is badass, Leonard is a cool dude, swearing, alcohol mentions and crime mentions 

You’re an information broker. You got a network of people feeding you information, but few people are aware of this side of you. Most people know you as the hot ‘girl’ working in a shady bar, where most of its patrons are criminals. 

Your agents know you as Mr Smith (nerd!) though and your clientele as well, including Captain Cold. 

For someone with that name, he was incredibly hot. He was as decent as crooks go. He paid you for your services and never seemed disgusted with your flirtations. Though he did not seem to reciprocate them. 

Unless you were at the bar and serving him whatever he felt like that night.

First time he came in, you were worried your day job and night job were gonna get messily intertwined, but for someone as smart as he, he was awfully dumb. 

Being an information broker, you knew all about him, but Leonard was getting to know you in two different ways. 

He obviously was not going to make a move on Mr Smith, because dating with a business partner was bound to get messy, but to your utter frustration, he also did not make any serious move on the best barkeep of the neighbourhood. No amount of flashy shows while making a cocktail was gonna change that.

So you took a chance as a bartender. He turned you down, saying he had an eye on someone from work. 

So you took a shot as Mr Smith. He turned you down, because he had an eye on a bartender he decided not to name. 

You swore he was playing games with you. 

Next time he came in unannounced to your den, you awaited him in your bartender look. 

“Since you wanted to date someone from work and a bartender, I thought I’d give it to you both.” 

Leonard was so confused. He was not playing games with you. He just liked two people and had not decided yet whom he wanted to pursue. But now person A was sitting where person B was usually sitting. 

Then it kind of clicked, because the voice was the same. The eyes. The nose. The way you carried yourself. 

He needed a drink and a lot of explanation. 

Leonard: “Not to be rude, but I do wonder if I should call you miss or mister.” 

“My liege is gender neutral and totally acceptable.”

Leonard: “Not outside of the bedroom…”

He is totally chill (lol) with you being bigender. Whether you experience it as being male and female both at the same time or alternating. Leonard is the type to, in the end, not give a shit. 

Oh but the amount of agents that now come to you to tell you your boyfriend is canoodling with some ‘whore from a bar’. 

“We could kill her for you, Mr Smith.” | “I’d like to see you try.”

You can handle an attempt on your life every now and then. It does tell you who your most loyal agents are.

Also shows how misogynistic they are, because none of them are blaming Leonard for being ‘seduced’. 

In any case, being with Leonard is easy. He listens, makes a point of addressing you gender neutrally and you can often joke about him ‘cheating’. Sometimes it is a ‘buy one get one free’ joke. 

It takes a long time for Leonard to tell Mick though. Mick thought Leonard was having two partners for almost a year. 

He does ask some intrusive questions, but if he goes too far you will let him know. He means well and also he and Leonard are a package deal 

Mick really wants to know what’s in your pants. You suggest a threesome so he could find out. He was too afraid that it was a penis to agree to that. You knew he did not have the balls, but Leonard was not happy you pulled that stunt. 

Please reblog to give your local writer happy hormone so he writes you more content. 

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 6

Part 1 Here

Next part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

Before Bakugou could reply, the jeweler came back into the room and handed Denki a piece of paper.

“All right sir, here is your receipt! Your ring should be ready in three days.”

“Thanks.” Denki shoved the receipt into his pocket, quickly making his way to the door. “See you around Bakubro. Don't want to be late for my shift.” The door closed behind him with a bang.

Bakugou wasn’t annoyed though. Now he could pick out the perfect ring for Y/N and not worry about Kaminari being nearby. Everyone knows Kami can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep all of this a secret.” Denki moaned into his hands. He was sitting with his head buried in his arms. Y/N reached across the table and gently petted his hair.

“I know what you mean, but I don’t think either of us are in a good position to start telling people.”

Y/n and Denki sat in a secluded corner of a dimly lit cafe. Both of them had this time free and both of them definitely needed to talk. They stood a lot less chance of anyone asking questions if they were just two friends getting lunch instead of them privately going to each other’s apartments.

Denki looked up, giving Y/N a wide eyed expression. “I know, but I wasn’t expecting Bakugou to show up when I was dropping off that abomination of a ring! I just was lucky the jeweler had already taken it to the back. You were right by the way, that thing is absolutely horrendous. Like, was the designer blind?”

Y/N snorted. “From what I’ve heard, great great grandpappy had a lot more money than brains and wanted to impress his omega by shoving as many stones onto a ring as possible.”

“No kidding. I think it can be seen from space.”

“Very likely.” Y/N chuckled before slumping back into her seat with a sigh. “Though I might have an idea about what Bakugou was doing there.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Y/N nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. When I got back he invited me to the summer festival. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Ah shit, yeah. Isn’t that your guys' anniversary?”

“Yep.” Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Of course he had to pick this time to actually celebrate. We haven’t gone or done anything… God, I think since he became a hero.”

“So you think he was getting a gift.” Denki sat back as the server came, placing your orders in front of each of you. You both murmured your thank yous and waited until the server was out of earshot before resuming your conversation.

“Yeah, he had to have been. Makes me feel terrible, but there wasn’t a good time to… Well…”

Y/n gestured between herself and Denki.

“Tell him that you’ve been betrothed to an omega of much superior looks, breeding, and manners?”

You gave Denki a little kick under the table as he cackled. He grinned cheekily as he poked at his food. “Sorry. Humor is my coping mechanism. I get it though. Timing sucks all the way around.”

You nodded, sighing and taking a bite of your own food. “Can’t say anything during his heat. Then his schedule was swamped, and I had to sort things out with you. Then bam, anniversary that for some reason he decided to remember this year.”

Denki snorted, popping a bite into his mouth. “That’s about the long and the short of it. And we haven’t even begun to figure out how to tell everyone we’ve not only accepted arranged betrothals, but that we’re engaged to each other.”

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping we could just move to Tahiti and never speak to our former friend groups ever again?”

“A valid possibility. But that means we’d have to learn French and maybe Tahitian. You know I only passed English because Hitoshi and his dad coached me.”

“Fair point.” You sighed heavily. “But I’m really not looking forward to these conversations.”

“They have to happen though. You might have some anonymity to hide behind, but I’d rather my friends not find out about our engagement when they see an article about Chargebolt getting married.”

“Really?” You smirked slightly. “Then you’re going to tell everyone at your agency, hmm?”

Denki kicked you under the table. “Shut up!”

You poked at your food again as the smile fell from your lips. “So… Did you get a chance to think about what I sent you?”

Kaminari nodded. “Yeah. And I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“I thought about it a lot. I hate to leave the area, but it would be too awkward to stay here after everything.”

A few days ago you had sent Denki an email with a list of places that had job openings that would suit both of you. You both loved where you lived, but after everything, how could you stay? There’s no way the two of you could continue to keep living in the same apartment building as Bakugou. That would be cruel. Cruel to whom you didn’t quite want to think about. You spoke up again.

“Any place catch your eye?”

Kaminari nodded. “I was kind of thinking Okinawa. I have a few connections there. Decent distance from here and from our parents. And that would probably be the easiest transition.”

“Works for me.” You said, as if it wasn’t ripping your heart out to do this. It hurt. But it had to happen. In the end, you had to believe this was what was best for everyone. It might take some time, but this was it. This was what would make everyone happy in the long run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinsou was worried. Denki had been acting odd. And that’s saying something. The blond omega was usually loud and bubbly, the life of the agency. At least once a week, he invited Shinsou out for drinks, meals, clubs, karaoke, or some other nonsense. But ever since he’d gotten back from his three day leave, Kaminari had been acting strange. When he thought no one was looking, he was quiet. Withdrawn. Like he was puzzling out the toughest problem of his life.

Denki having a problem? Pretty typical. Denki having a problem and not talking to Shinsou about it? Pretty unusual. The blond had always come to the purple haired alpha with even the simplest of problems. Apartment searches, furniture assembly, what support items would suit his quirk best, even things like what to get from Starbucks. And even though he might groan and roll his eyes, secretly Hitoshi loved every second of it. When he had helped by digging through websites, cobbling together a rickety shelf, or reminding Denki that he always got the most cloyingly sweet items on the menu; Hitoshi got to pretend that he was Denki’s alpha.

Shinsou wasn’t sure exactly when he had fallen in love with Denki. Probably had been since high school at least. His dad had warned him against loud blonds while his father had laughed. But he couldn’t help it. Kaminari had been one of the first people to enthusiastically believe in him. Had always sought him out and wormed his way into Shinsou’s life and heart. And now Shinsou couldn’t understand it, but Denki was pulling away. Even as he watched the blond who was typing up a report on his computer, it somehow felt like Kaminari was slipping right through his fingers.

Shinsou cleared his throat. Kaminari glanced up. “Yeah man? What’s up?”

“You doing okay, Denks? You’ve seemed a little out of it.”

Denki met his eyes, startled, then quickly glanced away. “Yeah. Yep! Totally fine.”

“Denki. I know you.”

Kaminari sighed and slumped on his desk. “Just some life stuff. Family stuff. Friend stuff.”

Shinsou frowned, walking over to place a hand on Denki’s shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Denki snorted and laughed quietly. Shinsou furrowed his brows.

“Yeah” Denki sighed. “I know. But half of it isn’t really my stuff to tell and the other half isn’t exactly worth talking about.”

“You sure? We could go grab one of your obnoxiously sweet coffees after work. Go to mine or yours, watch an old crappy horror.”

“Tempting. Thanks man. I would, really, but I got some stuff I have to do after work. Some other time maybe.”

Shinsou frowned. It was rare for the omega to turn down an invitation for a movie night. Hell, it was rare for Denki to turn down an invitation, end stop. It made him even more worried about his omega… friend. His omega friend. His friend who just so happens to be an omega. Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he had. But he couldn’t keep this up much longer. His alpha had decided on the electric blond long ago, and the omega’s unusual behavior and unhappy scent was driving him wild with the need to protect. He really needed to pull himself together and confess soon.

“Well, whenever you’re free then,” Shinsou said, reluctantly letting his hand fall from Denki’s shoulder. “You know my number.”

Denki nodded and looked up, giving him half a smile. “I do. Thanks Shinsou.”

Shinsou walked back to his desk, his mind made up. He needed to tell his omega how he felt, and soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N twisted and turned, looking at herself in the mirror. It had been a very long time since she’d worn a yukata. It didn’t feel right to dress up like this. But wearing anything else also felt wrong. Everything about this date felt wrong. Like this was the kind of she she did in another life. And now here she was, going on a date with the man she loved. Who she’d always love. And who she’d already decided she was going to let go.

Y/N snorted and fussed with her hair a bit. Maybe she should have just refused this date. Claimed to be sick or something. But that felt wrong too. So, she just had to get through tonight. After all, what’s one more night of pretending everything is fine? Hopefully this could be a good memory from a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be. After tonight, she’d wait a couple days and then talk to Bakugou and let him go like he clearly wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki was going to throw up.

He was going to throw up, right here, all over himself and all over shitty hair, too. His red headed friend was giving him a pep talk as he helped Bakugou into his jinbei. Not that Bakugou needed the help. Or the pep talk. It just was easier to let the squad come over when they had found out about his date. It’s not like he wanted them there or anything. Once Kiri, Mina, and Sero realized he was going to use this date to ask Y/N to be his mate, they had insisted on helping him get ready.

None of them knew about the little velvet box in his pocket and that his plans went further than just asking Y/N to be his mate. Bakugou bit his lip to keep from frowning as he looked over his friends, a certain loud blond conspicuously missing. You wouldn’t hear Katsuki admit it out loud, but he really wished Denki could have been here. He loved the others, and they were great in their own ways. But Denki was his pack’s other omega. He got it in a way that the others didn’t. After tonight, he’d have to make sure to catch Pikachu up on all the news. Hell, maybe he could help his fellow blond finally talk to that purple haired idiot he’d been mooning over for years. Everyone in the pack knew Denki’s family had been harping at him to settle down for quite a while.

Bakugou looked up in time to see Mina coming at him with the hair grease. He threw up his hands.

“Fuck no! Keep that shit away from me!”

“You’ve got to do something about that pile of straw you call a haircut. Besides, Wouldn’t it be nostalgic? Weren’t you interning for Best Jeanist again when you asked Y/N out the first time?”

“Yes, and I’d rather shave myself bald than ever have my hair like that again!”

Mina sighed. “Fine. We’ll do something else. But if I can’t slick it back, you will be wearing eyeliner!”

“IN YOUR DREAMS, PINKY!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited outside the entrance to the festival. It was strangely soothing to watch the people flow by, like you were a rock overlooking a stream. There were groups of friends, couples both young and old, families where the laughing children ran ahead of their parents eager to get inside. You gave a small smile at the last. Maybe that could be you someday, a parent getting to see a festival through the eyes of a child again. Though the mental picture was hazier than it used to be. The children you half imagined just blurs of colorful yukatas, instead of loud and stubborn blond haired brats with their father’s eyes and attitude. You huffed a quiet laugh to yourself as a thought occurred to you. If you and Kaminari actually went through with this plan, decent chance the kids would still be blond. The thought hurt a little.

“Y/N!”

You looked up and had the breath knocked out of your lungs.

Katsuki was beautiful. You knew it. Thought it often, even. But tonight he practically glowed. His hair had been tamed into a softer look than usual. The jinbei he wore was the perfect compliment to his skintone. Was that… Yes. Dark eyeliner made his crimson eyes pop. Your heart ached. You’d always love this man. No matter how it tore you apart, he’d always own part of your heart and soul. You smiled weakly and raised your hand in greeting.

“Hey. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Bakugou scratched the back of his head. “Mina got ahold of me.”

“That explains it then.”

“Hey!” Katsuki gently elbowed you in the side before taking his place next to you. “You saying I can’t dress up on my own?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N!” You dodged out of the way as he swatted at you, laughing. Yes. This could be it. One last good night.

“Shall we go in?” You asked, holding out your hand.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Katsuki asked as he walked past you, ignoring your hand.

You gave a quiet smile as you followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki picked at his food, none of it making it to his mouth. He was going to be sick. He was going to be sick right here and some paparazzi was going to see and take a picture and the big headline tomorrow was going to be “A Puke Worthy Proposal.” He was trying his best to keep up the illusion that everything was fine and normal, but it was rough. It had been a long time since he’d taken his alpha on even a normal date. And this wasn’t any normal date. It didn’t help that things were feeling forced and awkward.

He wanted to hold your hand, but his own hands were sweating buckets. He tried to keep up casual conversation, but that was getting harder and harder as the night wore on. Every sentence he wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with. It was impossible to keep talking about what vendors he recognized when all he wanted to say was “I love you and I’ll always love you and I want you by my side until the sun stops shining.”

It didn’t help that things felt awkward. Almost nothing was feeling easy or natural. It really had been far too long since the two of you had gone on any sort of date. He frowned as he thought about it. It had been over a year, at least. Longer, even. Well, he was going to have to fix that. He’d be able to use some of that pro hero paycheck and spoil you like you deserved. His Y/N. His mate. And soon, his wife.

Bakugou stared at nothing, his eyes going unfocus as he started daydreaming about how spectacular your wedding would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a disaster. You glanced over to where Bakugou stood picking at his food, looking bored. You’d been trying to keep up the conversation, but for the past several minutes you’d only gotten hums or grunts in response to anything you said.

“It’s amazing how they got all those pro heroes to dance nude as one of the main attractions this year.”

Katsuki grunted.

Yeah, he wasn’t paying attention at all.

You sighed, looking down at your own untouched food. You never should have agreed to come. At least this date was proving it to you. This had to end. The two of you didn’t know how to be a couple anymore. It was even clearer that Katsuki wasn’t even interested in trying. You had no idea why he wanted to have this date in the first place. Some bizarre sense of obligation? Maybe his heat had shaken him up enough that his omega needed the sense of normalcy? This issue was this wasn’t normal for the two of you anymore. It hadn’t been for a very long time. You sighed, glancing around for a trash can to oust you untouched dango.

A loud pop caused you to look up. The fireworks were about to start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou looked up at the sound of the first firework.

“Wanna head to the pier?”

You nodded quietly, following him as he led the way. He was sweating so much now that if he set himself off he’d take out half the city.

This was it. It was almost time. The two of you were going to watch the fireworks from the out of the way pier like you had all those years ago. It was at the end of that fireworks show the two of you had had your first kiss. And this time… Well this time at the end of the show he was going to propose and you were going to say yes, and it was going to be perfect.

That is if he didn’t barf before you two got there.

“Hurry up,” he grunted as he picked up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tried not to flinch at Bakugou’s harsh tone. He clearly wanted to get this night over with even more than you did. You tried not to let it hurt.

The pier was empty as it always was. The lack of lighting keeping others away. The first time you had discovered it, it had felt hidden and intimate. Now it felt desolate. Lonely.

You walked up to the railing and stared at the sky. The fireworks didn’t feel magical anymore either. Your fingers wrapped around the railing as you glanced to the side. Bakugou wasn’t even looking up. He was staring at the reflections of flashes in the dark swirling water below.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

And that was Part 6, my darlings! Hope you're enjoying the drama, because there's more angst on the way! You can scream at me about the cliffhanger in replies, reblogs, tags or asks. :P

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[i-lovethatforme]

Jealous peter for the promptmas?

promptmas.. forgive me. also mj is a stripper now? ty!

me: just write a drabble

also me: canny shut up we know that xxxxxxx

The chairs look softer in this strip club than any of the others he’s been in and he's not sure if that's a good or a bad thing - he chooses not to think about it. The music is a little loud but the lights are low enough that his senses level themselves out.

It’s guys night. One of his favourite nights of the month because while he’s out with his friends who can barely look at a girl without their phones blowing up from their partners, Peter can let whoever he wants sit in his lap. It’s not like he minds that no one is calling him. He just never likes anyone enough to let them get close enough to want to call him.

Not that it stops his dirtbag friends from getting lap dances anyway. Harry more often than not comes out of a private room clearly having just come in his pants. Peter doesn’t care - it’s not his problem if Liz is willing to turn a blind eye once a month.

He does kinda wish he could be the one to get off though but there’s never been a girl who can get him there. His advanced senses make it harder to come than he would like - and some grinding from a hot girl through his slacks isn’t really going to do it for him.

But it’s fun all the same.

He scans the room, looking to see if there’s a girl he might like to entertain for the night and that’s when he sees her. The girl he dreamt about, the girl that was single handedly the only person he thought about whenever he jerked off. The girl who plagued his dreams both asleep and awake. The girl that barely said two words to him.

“Fuck.” Would MJ find it weird that he was here? Would she feel uncomfortable? Should he leave? Would she even recognise him?

“You alright?” Harry asks, leaning back against the bar.

“I know her,” Peter says, watching Harry follow his eyeline until he whistles. Peter doesn’t love it.

“That chick?” Harry asks, his brows high. “She’s hot.”

“I was fucking in love with her in high school,” Peter laughs. And probably kindergarten and all through his childhood if he’s being honest. He’s not sure the feeling ever completely went away with how he feels a little bit like he’d easily fall straight back into it if she only looked at him.

“Oh shit, she’s your ex?” Harry asks, choking a little on his beer.

“Nah, I was never that lucky. She never looked at me twice.”

“I mean, no offence man, but I can see why. Maybe I’ll get a dance from her,” Harry says, glancing at his ringing phone only to silence it with an eye roll.

Peter doesn’t get jealous. Jealousy is not a thing he does because he doesn’t care about people enough to want them to himself. But with Harry’s words and the way the guy talking to MJ is staring, he thinks he might be the jealous type.

“Not a chance,” Peter says, attempting to be neutral but he’s not sure how well it comes out.

Peter scans MJ’s body, the legs he’s thought about an embarrassing amount of times, the curve of her arse he never thought he’d get to see out of baggy gym shorts. Fuck she’s so hot.

“Peter?”

Oh shit. He’s been caught. She walks over and he can feel his dick twitching at the sight of her and God, this is the best night of his life.

Lucky for him he’s learnt a little bit since high school and he’s pretty sure he can talk to her now without stuttering in her face. Maybe. She’s miles taller than him now, the heels she’s wearing leaving him in the dust but he doesn’t mind. He never minded looking up at her.

“Hey, MJ,” he says. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I can’t say the same, Peter. Always knew this is where I’d need to go if I needed you.”

“So you need me now?” he asks, enjoying the way she scrunches her nose as she looks away from him.

“Did you just stare at me so you could be mean to me?” she asks, frowning at him as she laughs.

“You just caught me checking you out,” he says with a small smile, enjoying the way she bites her lip. He’s not sure if it's nerves or just something she does at work but it’s really working for him.

“It’s payback for high school,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear though it falls back over her shoulder.

What? Did she catch him checking her out in high school as well?

“High school, huh,” he says, reaching to twist a curl between his fingers.

“You aren’t allowed to touch me,” she says and he drops his hand like a hot potato. Obviously, anything he thought was flirty was just her doing her job and obviously, he shouldn’t just reach out to touch her because he’s wanted to do nothing more since preschool.

“So - sorry.”

“Peter,” she laughs - a little pretty thing. “It’s just a club rule, you’re not going to get killed.”

“Oh… well you didn’t need to say it like that!” he says, the widest grin on his face that he’s had in a while.

“But messing with you is so fun,” she replies, her lip caught between her teeth.

“Mich -” he starts but then music drops and her name is called over the speaker and he already misses her presence and he thinks if he has to watch her dance for someone else he might combust on the spot.

“I’ve got to go on stage,” she says, leaning closer to him and he can pick up the scent of cherry chapstick. The same one he obsessively watched her reapply in school. “I better be able to see you when I get there,” she whispers.

Peter uses his strength to worm his way through the crowd, elbowing some of the patrons who clearly enjoy watching MJ on stage.

He sees why when the music starts. The bass thumps through his body, his dick hardening as he watches her strut on stage. Her hips sway perfectly in time with the music, her hair swinging as she twists and he’s utterly hypnotised.

There’s a guy on stage, sitting in a chair with a Chesire smile on his face and Peter’s not sure how he got there but he wants to pull him from his chair and take his place. He won’t. Obviously. But there is deep jealousy coursing through his veins that’s battling his lust for dominance as MJ runs her hands over the guy's chest.

But then she locks eyes with Peter, her mouth curling into a smirk that has him groaning against his glass.

Watching MJ on stage while he can hear the leers and the hushed whispers from people on the floor is a bizarre experience. One he’s not sure his heart would be able to take again - yet he knows he’ll be back here next week if she only hinted that she wanted him there. He’s immensely proud of her and yet he wants to gauge everyone’s eyes out.

He watches her move, her smile bright and confident and he can’t help but smile back. She’s not even looking at him but there’s just something about her that makes him act like a fool. That makes him want to change everything about the way he lives and the way he loves - so he can keep her.

He watches as she slaps her arse, gripping her cheeks slightly as bends her knees, almost sitting on the lap of the guy behind her and Peter’s glass cracks in his hand. But then she arches her back instead as she barely grazes his crotch, the guy's hands clenching the arm of the chair as MJ goes back to standing.

Peter places his broken glass on a tray, signalling for another drink. The music dwindles and the crowd erupts, Peter included as he throws all his money on the stage.

MJ walks over to him, her chest heaving slightly though she’s clearly trying to keep it subtle. He’s never been able to miss anything about her.

“Hey,” he says, tucking a bill into her underwear.

“I’m surprised you have any money left with how much you threw on stage,” she laughs. She ushers him back over to his table, urging him to sit down.

“Well, you were amazing, MJ,” he says, his heart racing as she blushes.

“Thanks, dork,” she replies, looking anywhere but at him. She tucks her hair behind her ear, the shyness he was used to from her peeking back through and God, it’s a wonder he ever got anything done at school with her so close.

“I thought you might want to keep some, you know in case you wanted a dance from one of the other girls or something.”

“Michelle,” he scoffs and she smiles at him like she knew what his response would be but she needed to hear it anyway. As if he hasn’t been following her like a puppy the entire time. “How much do I need to pay to get you to stay here all night?” he asks.

“Oh, I don’t know, Peter,” she laughs, spinning on the spot in heels that are so utterly ridiculous he’s going to be thinking about them for weeks. “How much do you think I’m worth?”

“Whatever I have, you can have it,” he says, the promise so evident in his tone he’s surprised she hasn’t called him out on it.

She looks like she might but then someone comes over, their hand against MJ’s arm as they lean to talk to her. Peter misses whatever they’re saying because he’s eyeing the dimples at the base of MJ’s spine and the way the lace of her thong looks under the red lights.

He’s brought out of his trance by MJ sitting on the arm of his chair, her legs resting against his. It’s the first time she’s touched him at all and he’s still acutely aware he’s not allowed his hands on her.

“Why is he allowed to touch you?” Peter asks, his hand desperate to linger on the small of her back but he won’t.

“I like him,” she whispers, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips as her fingers trace his collar. Sometimes her skin touches his neck and he feels like he’s burning up, his dick getting hard by the mere thought of her properly touching him.

“You don’t like me?” he asks, cocking his head. There’s a playful tone to the way he asks but he’s sure she sees right through it. He’s sure by the slight furrow in her brow that she knows he’s just aching to know the answer. She was always the smartest, most observant person at high school and he’s sure she’s got even more so with time. He wants her to figure everything out, he wants to tell her anything she wants to know.

She shakes her head, her fluffy curls falling over her shoulder. She leans in and he can’t think because she’s so close. The smell of her skin intoxicates him far better than the alcohol sitting uselessly in his glass.

"Why not?" he breathes.

Her nose brushes his ear and he’d be a fool to even attempt to hide his erection now.

“You never called me back,” she says, her breath hot against him.

“What?” he asks, trying to get his breathing under control lest he starts panting at her. She pulls back, a dark look in her eye as settles her features into a frown.

“It hurts my feelings that you can’t remember,” she pouts.

“What do you - what?” he says, forgetting to feel embarrassed that he’s been around for her all of about four minutes and he’s reverted back to the mess he was at sixteen.

“Do you know how many times I called you in ninth grade?” she laughs and it’s his favourite sound. It’s always been his favourite and somehow he forgot and he’s determined to never let it slip his mind again.

“Ninth grade?” he asks, his brows furrowing. “Why were you calling me then?”

“God, you’re clueless,” she says, pushing her hair over her shoulder.

“MJ,” he stresses.

She rolls her eyes at him, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. “You’re clueless,” she repeats, leaning closer. “But you’re cute too. You always were.”

“You thought I was cute in ninth grade?”

“Are you having trouble understanding me?” she asks, her eyes bright. “Or do you just want me to tell you I had a crush on you since we were in kindergarten and I barely managed to figure out how to talk to you in high school and you still never even called me back?”

“Are you joking because it’s not funny,” he says, desperate as anything as his eyes track the movement of her face just in case. So he sees her brows furrow and then her eyes widen with a smile.

“You are the only person in Midtown that didn’t know I was completely gone for you,” she replies, her smile blinding.

“Ned stopped talking to me for a week because I wouldn’t stop talking about how pretty you were,” he says quickly, feeling nervous admitting it even now. MJ seems like she’s having the same reaction he’s still having but then her features settle.

“I guess I can forgive you. Seeing as we were both dumb,” she whispers, sliding off the arm of the chair and into his lap. He grunts at the contact of her arse against his dick and she wiggles slightly and he thinks it’s just so she’ll hear it again.

“Careful,” he replies, his hand against the arm of the chair where she was just sitting.

“And why do I need to be careful with you?” she asks, her hand against his chest. He’s sure she can feel his heart thundering, maybe she can even hear it over the sound of the music. She takes his drink from his hand, the only thing keeping his hand from running up her leg and it’s almost painful to keep away. “What if I don’t want to be?”

“You can do whatever you want to me, MJ,” he promises.

“And what do you want?” she asks as she pulls the cherry from his glass, popping the whole thing in her mouth and Peter gulps as she looks at him. Her jaw moves and he tracks the movement of her tongue behind her lips and everything in him is screaming that he’s insane for not telling her all those years ago how badly he wanted to just be able to talk to her.

He’s pretty sure his eyes are heart shaped as he looks at her and he can’t bring himself to care when she slips the knotted cherry stem between her teeth.

“You are driving me fucking crazy,” he groans, reaching to pull the stem from her lips. He’s careful not to touch her even if it’s obvious she wants him to.

MJ stands up abruptly, her heart racing and Peter thinks maybe he’s messed up. But then she holds her hand out and he links their fingers together as she pulls him through the club. There’s an urgency to the way she moves and he’s right there with her, the urge to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder becomes stronger with every person they have to manoeuvre around.

The black velvet curtains close around him and it’s just them. She’s all he can see, not that he’s been able to take his eyes off her all night.

“Peter,” she whispers, pulling him closer by his shirt. “Do you want to touch me?”

“Yes… fuck yes. But I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

He can see by her face that she’s weighing up the pros and cons of just brushing her lips against his. She huffs slightly and she’s so fucking cute he might die.

“What about,” he starts, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop from touching her. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and she rolls her eyes at him with a smile.

“You give me a dance now and then I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t finish until five,” she murmurs, though she follows him as he walks back towards the sofa.

“Then I’ll be here until five.”

[cali-holland]

Under the Stars- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: When you invite Tom and Harrison to go to a cabin in the woods with your old college friends, Tom devises a plan to finally confess his feelings for you. Little does he know, the cabin belongs to your ex-boyfriend, and he’s also seeking your attention this week.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: slow burn (ish), swearing, sexual themes (jokes/references), the reader kinda gets sexually harassed (nothing actually happens), fist fight + some blood, tom being a simp

A/N: this was a nine month process, so i hope you enjoy :) also thank you to @duskholland​ for being so supportive and reading through this fic and editing it. love you hannah! + Also reposting this because the tags didn’t work the first time :/ and tag list will be in a reblog!

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Moodboard is mine, pics used are not *

~~~

When you walked into Tom and Harrison’s house, you weren’t expecting to hear odd grunts coming from the living room. You’d heard many strange noises made in that house— a good amount of their sources were still unknown, but you’d never heard such aggressive grunts. For a moment, you considered slowly backing out of the house and knocking on the door. It would be easy to pretend like you didn’t have a key so you didn’t have to walk in on anyone doing anything gross in the other room.

But then Harrison walked into the entryway, smiling at you as a greeting, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey,” You replied, closing the front door hesitantly behind you. You pointed towards the living room, “Do I wanna know what’s going on in there?”

Before he could reply, there was a loud bang from the living room, followed by a string of curses. Forgetting all worries of what may or may not have been the cause of the noises, you hurried into the other room with Harrison trailing behind you.

Tom laid on the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his foot. Tessa, who had been checking up on her owner, popped up happily when she saw you, rushing over to greet you at your feet. Tom looked up at you and Harrison in the door, forcing out his best smile. You stared at the large tent that was currently taking up most of the space in the living room, questioningly.

“Why do you have a tent set up?” You asked. Tom hopped up off the floor, standing beside the tent.

“Well, our camping trip is this weekend, so I thought I’d make sure it’s still durable.” Tom said proudly. He put a hand against the tent in an attempt to be smooth, but the tent came collapsing down, making Tessa bolt behind you from the sudden loud noise.

“And he wanted to make sure he could actually set up a tent, which clearly he can’t,” Harrison stated, and Tom glared at him in response.

“Were you going to tell him?” You laughed, turning to the blond beside you.

“And miss the opportunity to see him struggle setting up a tent for forty minutes? No, I didn’t tell him.” He smirked, only making Tom more frustrated and embarrassed.

“Tom, it’s a cabin. You don’t need a tent unless you don’t want to stay with everyone else.” You explained. “I just said camping because it’s easier to call it that.”

“Fuck you, mate.” He grumbled to Harrison, flipping him off before starting to put away the mess of a tent. You stepped in to help him, and Harrison just laughed to himself before leaving.

“I really thought you would’ve known. Did you really think I’d invite you and Harrison to spend several days in the woods with me and my college friends in tents?” You joked, “Besides, I didn’t think you’d come if it was actual camping.”

Tom paused his movements, but you continued to undo the poles, taking no notice of his action, “Why wouldn’t I go if it was actual camping?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, looking at him with your usual charming smile, “You’re not the outdoorsy, camping type. You don’t exactly go out and rough it in the woods on the weekend, like Will or Tyler; you play golf with Harrison and your dad.”

While your words were well-intended and teasing, Tom couldn’t help but take them to heart. He took everything you said to heart.

It was hard for him to be so helplessly in love with you, his best friend (besides Harrison) from BRIT school, for the past few years while you were completely blind to it. Normally, he’d do little things to impress you because he still wasn’t sure if he wanted you to know about his feelings— if you knew, there was a chance you’d reject him, and Tom wouldn’t know what to do with himself if that happened. Recently though, he’s started to feel like his heart was going to explode if he didn’t tell you soon, but that didn’t mean he knew how to tell you.

So when you asked if he wanted to go on a camping trip with you, of course he said yes right away. His mind told him that, no, he really wasn’t the outdoorsy, “roughing it” kind of guy, but his heart told him it was a chance with you. He was a sap and thought that maybe he’d pluck up the courage to tell you how he felt under a moonlit campsite, maybe even the two of you could share a tent, maybe he could kiss you in the lake— god, did he want to kiss you.

That had all come crashing down when he’d realized it wasn’t a romantic camping getaway. You’d invited Harrison and a few college friends, friends that neither Tom nor Harrison had ever met. And there was one friend in particular who Tom never wanted to meet— Will, your ex-boyfriend. You two ended things mutually, but Tom couldn’t stop himself from feeling like he needed to compete against Will, especially when he discovered it was Will whose family owned the land you’d be camping on; Will who took you on hikes all around your college town; Will who taught you how to fish and how to kayak with the lakes nearby; Will who one time got bitten by a rattlesnake and sucked out the venom himself; Will who could climb any mountain and come back unscathed. Will was an outdoorsy “roughing it” badass fucker that Tom despised.

And now, you had just furthered proved that Tom was a delicate flower compared to the lumberjack prick that was Will. He didn’t care about being compared to Will’s best friend, Tyler, who (from what you’d told Tom) was in a serious relationship with your other friend, Jane. Besides Jane, the other person accompanying you all to the cabin was Rose, your best friend and Will’s sister. Needless to say, Tom was very grateful that Harrison was coming along too— he didn’t think he could handle a Will-centered week alone.

“We can just leave this for now. I know I promised you Nando’s before we leave.” Tom said, getting up from his spot on the floor.

“Are you sure? We can just get it on the way to the airport.” You said, looking at the tent mess before you.

“Come on, it’ll be fine.” He held a hand out to you and you took it, so that he could pull you up. Before you two could make it out the door, Harrison arrived downstairs with a loaded hiking backpack in hand.

“I know you’re not trying to sneak to Nando’s without me.” He said, and Tom glared at him from behind your back. Harrison was very well aware of Tom’s feelings for you— everyone was except for you, and he took every chance he could get at being a little shit about it, which included ruining quality time for Tom to spend with you.

The three of you left to grab your last meal in the UK before heading back to their house. Tom finished putting away the tent, and Harrison loaded up Harry’s car with your bags as well as his and Tom’s. Harry (through bribery from Tom) drove you all to the airport for the first step in your camping trip.

Since you went to school in the US, all of your friends would be meeting you across the pond. Will’s family cabin was located in Maine, so the flight wasn’t too bad for the three of you— though Tom wished it was longer so he could devise a more accurate plan to impress you this weekend. He had to prove that he could be the outdoorsy badass guy you wanted. He had to outcompete Will.

“Why would you have to outcompete him?” Harrison asked Tom after hearing his dilemma. Fortunately, you were getting the rental car for the three of you to make it to the cabin.

“Because it’s clearly a competition.” Tom stated, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he looked over at you across the way. “She told me I’m not outdoorsy like Will- that makes it a competition and I have to beat him.”

As much as Harrison loved to see his friend fail at keeping it together around you, something felt wrong about telling him, ‘yeah, it’s totally a competition, so go beat up her lumberjack ex’. Instead, he tried, “I don’t think that’s what Y/N meant. You do golf more than you go camping.”

But Tom took no notice of his advice, “Just watch. I’m going to be the manliest man this weekend.”

“Hey guys,” You smiled, coming up to them, making Tom jump very unmanly-like in the process. “You ready to go?”

The journey to the cabin was a fairly long one. After a couple of hours of driving, you parked the car in one of those reserved parking lots off the side of the road. Tom and Harrison both looked around in confusion, spotting nothing but trees and a gas station.

“Why are we stopped?” Tom asked you as you got out of the car. Tom and Harrison followed you out of the car.

“We gotta hike in.” You replied. “The cabin’s down by the lake, so there’s no actual road to get there. It’s only about a mile and a half hike in. Be ready for lots of hiking. I think tomorrow we’re going to hike 12 miles.”

By the time you three got to the little a-frame cabin, it was already dinner time, which was great because that meant you three could sleep soon. The five hour time difference was already starting to hit. Before you could even step inside the cabin, your best friend met you with a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re here!” Rose smiled, stepping out of the hug after a moment.

“We made it.” You laughed. Your other friend, Jane, stepped up next to hug you. “I missed you two so much.”

“We missed you too.” Jane replied. You caught their eyes trailing over to Tom and Harrison behind you, and you remembered that they hadn’t met before. 

“Oh, girls, this is Tom and Harrison; guys, this is Rose and Jane.” You introduced the two parties with a smile. After a polite exchanging of handshakes, you looked at the two girls curiously, “Where are the boys?”

“Will wanted to get in a light swim before dinner.” Rose laughed, and Jane made her way back to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll show you your rooms.”

Rose gave the three of you a little tour of the cabin. The front door had placed you all in a little entryway room with a simple, wooden staircase taking up most of the room; a fireplace sat beside the stairs with a small loveseat across from it. Besides a rather large bookshelf, it was relatively empty, but elegantly simple nonetheless. There were four doors downstairs, all intricately designed with the same light wood color as the stairs. The first door on the left was explained to be Will’s room, and the second was Tyler and Jane’s. The third stood as the main bathroom, as Rose described it. The fourth door led to Tom and Harrison’s room.

It wasn’t very big— neither of the rooms were according to Rose, but that was the a-frame style of a quaint log cabin. A bunk bed sat on the side of the room with a small wood dresser across from it. There was enough space for the two boys to coexist, and Tom was just grateful he didn’t have to bunk with Will of all people; he was glad he had his best friend with him.

The upstairs of the cabin held the open space of the kitchen and the main living room. With large glass windows covering one of the walls, the living room had a magnificent view of the woods outside, and three couches were set in place to overlook it. Under the couches sat a large bear rug, one which both Tom and Harrison eyed suspiciously at first before Rose laughed it off, reassuring them that it was fake. Behind the couches, the dining room was situated beneath a beautiful antler chandelier and set for eight places, completing the rustic vibe of the cabin. The kitchen, while it was small, seemed to be just as well put together as the rest of the cabin, complete with a breakfast bar. The smell of Jane’s favorite lemon salmon filled the air, making you even more excited for dinner.

Next was your own room, which was just past the kitchen. A queen bed was pushed in a nook with only the foot of the bed accessible. Unlike Tom and Harrison, you and Rose didn’t mind sharing a bed, which is why they got the smallest room downstairs. Right beside your bedroom door was another bathroom.

“You brought stuff for s’mores, right?” You asked Rose as you walked with her, Tom, and Harrison off the cabin’s porch to the nearby shed where they kept all of their hiking and lake gear.

“Yes, absolutely!” She eagerly replied, a happy skip in her step.

“S’mores are a real thing?” Tom questioned in disbelief.

“Of course! You can’t camp without—” You let out a shriek as you felt cold, wet arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. You laughed, immediately knowing it was Will. “Oh my god, Will! Put me down! You’re all wet.”

Will chuckled, setting you back down on the solid ground, “Well, if it gets you wet.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed, smacking his chest playfully. It was then that you realized he was shirtless— shirtless and dripping wet from the lake and gloriously tan and somehow more built than the last time you saw him. Tyler, on the other hand, was still Tyler; still an attractive young guy, but not attractive to you and that most likely has to do with him dating Jane for as long as you’ve known him.

“Ty!” You smiled, hugging him tightly, not even caring if your clothes got wet and gross anymore. You’d just change later when you could.

Tom straightened up a bit, already feeling uneasy about Will’s presence. Will looked like the lovechild of Zac Efron and Chris Evans, with a hint of Scott Eastwood; he was perfect, there was nothing wrong with him. It made Tom question why you two broke up. Even though Tom knew you’d said it was mutual, he also knew it took a lot for girls to walk away from guys that look like that. Meanwhile, Harrison just bit his lip to keep from commenting on his friend’s ridiculous territorial issues. 

“So, you two must be Tom and Harrison.” Will held out a hand to them, smiling politely. Tom took his hand, trying to subtly shake it sternly as if to prove he was better than Will— childish, Tom knew it, but he already hated this guy with his six pack abs and perfectly white smile. Will didn’t back down though, squeezing Tom’s hand equally as hard. Noticing both guys tensing up, you looked between them awkwardly, having never seen either of them put on the tough guy act.

With introductions out of the way, you all trekked back inside the cabin. While Will, Tyler, and even you changed into dry clothes, Rose helped Jane finish dinner, leaving Tom to frustratedly rant to Harrison in their room.

“God, he’s so annoying.” Tom scoffed.

“He said two words to you.” Harrison stated, “Try to play nice. I don’t think Y/N wants you two to keep having a ‘my dick’s bigger’ contest.”

“But mine is and I know it!” He exclaimed, before realizing he didn’t know how thin the walls were- and how odd that implication was, “Whatever. He’s stupid. This trip’s stupid.”

Harrison was too busy laughing  to even attempt a response to his friend. Instead, there was a knock on the door, pulling both of them from their conversation. Tom opened the door and immediately softened when he saw you, clad in one of his old sweatshirts that he didn’t even realize you still had. It gave him a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to worry that much about Will this week.

“Nice shirt.” Tom commented with a smile.

“Thanks,” You smiled back, “I’ve actually been meaning to give it back to you.”

“What? Why?”

“Is dinner ready?” Harrison asked, cutting off the two of you and reminding you both of his presence. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly.

“Yes, it is.” You laughed, almost embarrassed from forgetting why you had been at their door in the first place. You tugged on Tom’s hand, pulling him out of the room. Harrison grumbled something dejectedly, but you paid no mind to it. Tom sent his friend an apologetic look, though he made no attempt to make Harrison any less of the unofficial third wheel on the journey upstairs to the dinner table.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Tom how you sat beside Will, even if Tom got the free seat beside you. Harrison slipped into the seat next to him with Rose to his right. The dinner of salmon with potatoes, salad, and bread seemed simple enough, but it was still quite possibly the best fish you’d ever had.

“Did you get a bone?” You asked Tom, seeing him awkwardly moving his mouth like his tongue was fishing out a hard piece of salmon. Blushing from you calling attention to his struggle, he held up a napkin to cover his mouth, trying to spit out the bone without it looking too gross.

“Yeah,” He admitted sheepishly, muffled by the napkin.

“I thought you got them all out.” Jane said, looking at Tyler expectantly.

“Don’t look at me, that was Will’s job.” Tyler laughed as he used his friend as the scapegoat.

“Must’ve missed one.” Will shrugged, before joking, “You’re still welcome that I caught these.”

“You caught this salmon?” You said, “I thought you only did catch and release?”

“I still do, for the most part, but this salmon was too good of an opportunity to pass up.” He explained. Tom was already boiling with embarrassment, and now he had jealousy bubbling over- of course this perfect fish was caught by the perfect outdoor man beside you.

“So, Tom, Harrison, we were talking about going for a run around the lake tomorrow morning. Want to come?” Tyler asked.

“Sure. How far?” Harrison replied, and Tom nodded in agreement.

“The loop’s about five miles.” Will answered.

“Are you going to run with us?” Tom asked you, knowing back home in Kingston you’d sometimes join Harrison on runs. Tom wasn’t the type to just go out for a casual run like his best friend was, but he wasn’t about to back down from this.

“Nah, you two can keep up with the cross country runners.” You joked, “I’d much rather save my energy for the hike.”

Once dinner ended and no one choked on any more fishbones, you all migrated to the couches. Much to Tom’s chagrin, you sat in the middle couch between Will and Rose, while Tom and Harrison sat on the couch opposite a very cuddled up Jane and Tyler. The fireplace in the corner crackled, keeping the room comfortably warm. When Rose suggested you all play charades, the entertainment for the evening was decided, especially considering the cabin had very weak cell-signal and no television.

“What are the teams?” You asked, sitting dead in the middle of everyone with three friends to your left and three to your right.

“Let’s do 3 against 4, so you choose who you wanna be with, Y/N.” Jane suggested as Rose stood up to get a boxed set of charade cards from the game cabinet near the kitchen. You looked between the two sets of friends. You wanted to lean towards Tom, Harrison, and Rose, because the two boys were incredible at charades, and Rose was your go-to partner for Password at least.

“Come on, you know you wanna be with us.” Will teased, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Just for that, nope.” You laughed and took his arm off you. You stood up from that couch and squeezed in between Tom and the arm. To make room for you and to mock Will, Tom casually put his arm on your shoulder and you made no effort to take it off.

Rose returned with the box of cards and the game began with you and Jane pantomiming first. The words ranged from silly ones like centipede to more inventive ones like lapdance; either way, you all were laughing and enjoying the evening. Tom was highly appreciative of the humor because more than once, you laughed so hard that you fell into him, clutching his knee or completely falling over into his lap. It wasn’t anything out of the usual for him to see you so effortlessly happy, but he enjoyed all the little touches.

“Okay, okay.” You breathed out, doing your best to compose yourself. You stood up from the couch with Tyler so that you two could read the answer and continue the round. Reading over the card, “Catch 22”, you began to think about what you could do to act out the card. As if it wasn’t impossible enough to describe it with words, you had to act it out. But then the lightbulb went off- you had a secret advantage and he was sitting right in front of you, as long as he could figure it out.

“Ready?” Tyler asked you nervously, and you nodded. Tyler started with the usual way of beginning: how many words and what it is. You immediately pointed at Harrison.

“Me?” Harrison spoke in confusion, and you nodded before pointing to your stomach, doing your best to act his death from the series.

“Catch 22?” Tom offered, and Harrison looked at him dumbfounded, still trying to connect how it was him as your main clue.

“Ah, thank god.” You smiled, cheering as he guessed it right. Tyler and the others sighed.

“How the fuck did you get that?” Jane questioned.

“Haz, here, was in the show.” Tom replied, proud of his friend. You were surprised by your college friends’ collective shock, but you were most intrigued by Rose’s reaction.

“Oh my god, I thought you looked familiar.” She said, impressed.

“Wait, you actually saw it?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah, I think I might have cried when you died.” She admitted, brushing a loose hair behind her ear, and that’s when it clicked for you- she was totally into Harrison.

“And you’re an actor too, Tom, right?” Will spoke up, casually taking a drink of his beer. You eyed him skeptically; he knew Tom was an actor. Back when you two were dating, you’d talk about your best friend’s accomplishments, so why was he now asking? Your only answer was it would clearly get a rise out of, at least, you, if not Tom as well.

“Yeah, only been in little indie movies. Nothing anyone’s heard of.” Tom played it off jokingly, causing you to smack him on the arm a little, your hand resting on his bicep.

“My mom loves that movie you did with Ewan McGregor.” Rose commented.

“Ah yeah,” Will laughed, “The one where you’re like 12.”

“I wasn’t 12, but thank you.” Tom replied sarcastically, and you could tell he was biting back a scoff. 

“Well, we’ve all seen the Marvel movies so you can brag a little about those.” You teased, making him blush.

“I know I cried when everyone was getting dusted.” Jane stated in a way to poke fun at Rose’s previous words.

“Never saw them.” Will shrugged carelessly.

“Yes, you did.” You corrected him immediately, and you felt Tom tense a little under your touch. While Tom liked that you were being supportive about this, he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Will acknowledged Tom’s clenched jaw and decided to press it a bit further, “Babe, if you’re talking about Infinity War, then, no, I didn’t pay attention.” He chuckled, “Don’t you remember we were in the middle of something?”

Tom wondered, at first, what he meant exactly. You dropped your hand from Tom’s arm and covered your face in embarrassment, but before you could comment, Rose let out a whine, “Gross, I was right next to you two.”

“Not like you’ve never gotten it on in a movie theater.” Tyler joked.

“Can we please not talk about this?” You groaned, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Jane stated as she stood up with a yawn. You closed your door, escaping to the privacy of your room, not wanting to think about how your ex just told everyone about that night- in your defense, you’d already seen the movie before so you weren’t missing anything.

Tyler and Will followed after Jane, leaving Tom, Harrison and Rose as they cleaned up the few cards that were left out. Feeling the awkwardness radiating off of Tom, Rose delicately spoke up, “Will’s just being a dick.”

“It’s fine.” Tom reassured her.

“Did you really cry when I died?” Harrison asked her the question that’d been on his mind since the second she’d made the comment. They started talking about the show, and Tom took that as a sign to leave. He thought for a moment about knocking on your door and checking in on you, but then he realized it might be too uncomfortable for you to talk about. There were times, like tonight with charades, that Tom considered maybe you liked him back, based on all your little touches here and there, but then, with Will’s comments floating around his mind, his thoughts were plagued by the doom of the friendzone. Tom didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep tonight knowing that you and your annoying ex ‘got it on’ in the theater during his own movie- what if he was dying on screen but you were too enraptured in Will to cry like Rose had cried over Harrison dying?

Tom only had a few minutes to himself before Harrison came back into their shared room, asking him, “How’re you feeling about the run tomorrow?”

“It’s going to kill me.” Tom sighed, and Harrison shrugged before climbing into the top bunk.

“Should’ve been running with me.” He laughed, “It’s not even that far.”

“I haven’t run five straight miles since Jake nearly killed me at the gym.” He replied, tidying up his bag.

“Why are you cleaning?” Harrison asked, looking down at his friend. “Are you worried Y/N’s going to come into the room or something?”

“Shove off.” Tom grumbled. Harrison took off his sweaty socks that he’d neglected to remove before getting into his bed and threw them down at his friend. One missed Tom completely, and the other clung to his shoulder. “That’s fucking gross.”

“If you’re cleaning, then clean them up.” He snickered. Tom threw the sock back at his friend, but it missed and weakly fell to the ground. A knock came from the other side of the door, and Tom opened it, smiling when he saw it was you, his absolute favorite person on this godforsaken trip. While you looked rather cute in your casual summer pajamas, he frowned when he saw his sweatshirt in your hands.

“Are you returning it?” He asked, and you laughed.

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore.” You said quietly, hoping Harrison didn’t hear your words. You held it out to Tom, “I figured I can give it back to you for a time, and then steal it once it smells like you again.”

“Wait a second.” Tom took the sweatshirt from you and disappeared into the room, rummaging through his once neat backpack to grab out another sweatshirt. He handed it to you, “Maybe this could suffice for now?”

Smiling, you sniffed it a little before tugging it on, “Thanks. It’s so cold upstairs, I don’t know how I’d sleep without it.”

“You could always bring your own.” Harrison said from the top bunk. Tom turned and chucked the other sweatshirt at him. You rolled your eyes at his words.

“Watch it, Osterfield, or your mattress is going to end up in the middle of the lake with you still sleeping on it.” You playfully threatened.

“I’m quaking with fear.” He laughed, laying down on the bed out of sight.

“Well, I should go.” You told Tom, “Thank you for the sweatshirt. Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He smiled softly at you. As you walked away, he slowly closed the door, pleased with himself and his choice in sweatshirts. He turned to finish getting ready for bed, just in time for Harrison to throw the sweatshirt back at him.

“I will kick you out of this room.” Tom grumbled.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You didn’t sleep well that night. Even with Tom’s sweatshirt, your room was unbearably cold, and it didn’t help that Rose snored. With only a few hours of sleep under your belt, you woke up the next morning to the sun streaming in through the large window behind the bed and Rose already up and out of the room. You padded into the kitchen, making yourself some tea with the rustic teapot that was set out on the counter. Spotting Rose and Jane standing out on the balcony, you made your way outside.

“Good morning.” You said through a yawn, coming to stand beside Rose.

“We were wondering when you were going to wake up.” Jane teased. You looked at your two friends quizzically, taking a sip of your steaming tea.

“You already missed part one of the gun show.” Rose joked, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the balcony, “They should be back any second.”

“Oh God.” You laughed, remembering the boys and their run this morning.

“I know I’m with Tyler, but damn, Y/N.” She teased, and Rose nudged you playfully. “Here they come.”

Seeing motion through the trees, you looked over at the runners. It was obvious they were racing the last bit of the run, considering how triumphant Harrison looked when he arrived first with Will right on his tail. And then came Tyler, and finally Tom. There was probably only a few seconds between their arrival, but it was still amusing to spy the looks on their faces. They were all shirtless and glistening in a layer of sweat, and they hadn’t noticed the three of you on the balcony at all- not that you were complaining. You’d rather not have them catch you all checking them out so unabashedly.

“Look at that. 24 abs right there.” Jane let out a small sigh. While her comment was for all four boys, her eyes stayed trained on Tyler. Rose, on the other hand, had her eyes on Harrison’s figure, which you noted to tease her about later. But you, you couldn’t help but check out Tom’s bare torso- there was a reason you didn’t watch either Spider-Man movie with him- you always ended up a little too focused on his shirtless scenes.

“Enjoying the show?” Tyler called up to the three of you, a cheeky smirk on his face, as they all made their way up to the cabin. You could’ve sworn you saw Tom blush a little when he met your gaze before Harrison playfully shoved his friend, making Tom lose focus on you and shove him right back.

“Boys.” Rose laughed quietly to you. You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss part two.”

The boys made their way into the kitchen, seeking out some water and gatorade as you and the girls went back inside to greet them. The sweet smell of salmon from last night was gone, overthrown by the ever lovely smell of sweaty men.

“It smells like a gym in here.” Rose gagged in disgust.

“I would’ve gone for sweaty ballsack, but yours is much nicer.” Jane laughed.

“Janie would know.” Will teased, clapping Tyler on the shoulder as he drank from his water, making the other choke a little.

“So how was the run?” You asked Tom as he and Harrison came over to you, Tom’s bottle of gatorade almost gone already. The other four got engrossed in their own conversation.

“Just a small workout, nothing too bad.” He replied, brushing it off.

“He was dying.” Harrison stated, making you laugh. “I told him he’s got to run with me more.”

“Well, you won, Haz, so congrats.” You replied.

“How did you know we were racing?” Tom asked. His ears turned pink from thinking that you knew he came in last.

“The four of you act like teenage boys; of course you’re going to make a race out of a casual run.” You teased.

“We should probably go stretch before our muscles tighten up again.” Harrison said, already backing up towards the stairs. Tom made his way to follow him, and you spoke up.

“I’ll come with.” You offered, setting your mug of tea on the counter. You followed them downstairs and out to the patio, feeling like you might as well spend some alone time with your two closest friends.

“You two think you can make it on the hike today?” You teased, already seeing Tom walk a little funny.

“Yeah, yeah, we got this.” He reassured you, sitting down on the solid ground to start stretching his legs. You started to stretch with them, and Harrison looked at you funny for it.

“Why are you stretching?” He asked with a laugh.

“It helps with flexibility.” You shrugged, switching legs as they did, all three of you mirroring the same poses. “How was the lake?”

“It was nice. We weren’t exactly looking at it though.” Tom replied with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, you were going so slow, I thought you were.” Harrison joked and Tom kicked his foot out, hitting Harrison in the leg.

“It’s shit like this that made me believe you were racing.” You laughed.

“I don’t do long distance running. I like focusing on my abs a lot more.” Tom defended himself. You flicked your eyes down to his abs, nodding a little, but Tom was so focused on his stretching that he had missed your small action, whereas Harrison fully caught it. He laughed, sending you a wink, and you flipped him off. Tom caught that exchange though, “Did I miss something?”

“Nope.” You replied quickly, only making Harrison laugh harder, “He’s just being a dumbass. Onto hamstrings.”

The three of you laid down to stretch your hamstrings, and you heard Tom let out a small groan from beside you. “I can’t do this. I fucking hate leg day.”

“Need help?” You offered. Before he could protest, you were already on your feet. He held his leg up as high as he could, and you pressed on his foot to stretch his hamstring even more.

“What if I need help too?” Harrison pouted, even though he was stretching his leg just fine.

“Sorry, Haz, it’s just you and your hand.” You joked, making Tom laugh.

“I see how it is. Ha ha, it’s me and my hand, and Tom and your hand, Y/N.” He sarcastically replied, as you dropped Tom’s leg and he bent his knee for you to lean on his shin. You helped him to deepen the stretch through his leg.

“Someone’s jealous.” Tom said, before grimacing a little.

“Was that too far?” You asked, loosening your hold on his leg, not wanting to overstretch his hamstring.

“A little.” He replied.

“God, Y/N don’t be so rough on him.” Harrison piped in, still having no issue stretching on his own.

“Haz, if you’re going to be a pouty baby about not having a stretching buddy, talk to Rose. She was totally checking you out earlier.” You stated, trying to change the conversation off of Harrison’s unnecessary innuendos. You let go of Tom’s leg and reached for his foot to stretch his other hamstring.

“Wait, really?” He asked, dropping his leg to peer at you with a serious look on his face.

“Yeah, why would I lie to you about that?” You laughed, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her read a book, so I think she was lying about Catch 22.”

Flustered, Wide eyed and blushing, Harrison mumbled something about grabbing a shower before bolting off. You exchanged a curious look with Tom, but he followed after his friend.

You made your way inside after them and went to fix yourself another cup of tea. When you saw Will alone in the kitchen, you momentarily considered changing your mind and going to your rook, but it was too late, as he had already seen you.

“Want a cup?” He asked, holding up the coffee pot after he finished pouring himself a cup.

“No thanks.” You replied and made your way to the kettle.

“Enjoy the show earlier? Tyler and I started this new training routine that’s supposed to help with bulking up.” Will said. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his words.

“And how’s that working out for you?” You asked, not even trying to hide your disinterest. You still hadn’t forgiven him for his immature comments last night. Plus, the more you saw Will interact with Tom, the more justified you felt with your annoyance.

Will stepped closer to you. Slowly, he took one of your hands in his and pressed it to his abs, and you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t feel every part of his toned stomach. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt like you were falling under his trance again. “There’s more where that came from. Why don’t you come by my room tonight?”

He dropped your hand, and you were pulled out of your foggy state. You stepped away, turning away from him to continue getting yourself some tea. You felt his body envelope yours from behind. His head rested on your shoulder and his hands smoothed over your waist. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he murmured, “I miss you.”

At his words, something inside of you snapped and you jolted away from his embrace, slapping his hands away. Firmly, you said, “I don’t miss you.”

Will left the room without another word, and you were left to ponder what the hell just happened as you stood alone in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that you all left on the hike, trailing through the towering trees to make your way to a nearby peak. You all stopped a few times for water and some food, and to even just enjoy nature. Between Jane’s ornithology degree, Tyler’s botany background, and Will’s forestry knowledge, identifying the different birds, plants, and trees around you was relatively easy.

“Can you imagine if we studied something environmental too?” Rose joked, nudging you in the shoulder as Jane mindlessly went on about the bird that had flown past nearly ten minutes ago.

“God, it would never end.” You laughed.

“What did you study?” Harrison asked Rose, making you look at Tom and roll your eyes at your friends.

“I’m a nurse.” She replied, and the two got swept into their own conversation.

“You sore yet?” You asked Tom, poking him in the side as you all continued the hike uphill.

“Me? Sore? Never.” He laughed. He shook his head to try to hide the slight hurt from the question. First, you didn’t think he was outdoorsy enough and now you think he can’t handle doing some mileage. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh sure.” You smiled at him. Tyler pointed out a specific plant as you all passed it, talking about the intricate properties of the shrub.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused about nature.” Tom mumbled to you quietly. Since you two were far enough behind Tyler, Jane, and Will, they couldn’t hear his comment.

“Don’t worry. I have no clue what he’s talking about either.” You reassured him before letting out a small yawn.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” He asked, looking over at you in concern.

“Someone was snoring a bit too loud for me to sleep.” You said, loud enough for Rose to hear. She stopped and spun around to face you, face red in embarrassment.

“It’s a nasal condition! You know how I get when it’s cold!” She defended. As much as she tried to sound angry, she still had a small smile on her face.

“Love you, Rose.” You blew her a kiss, laughing at her reaction. She and Harrison turned back around and continued their conversation about who knows what.

“I think Harrison’s got a nasal condition too.” Tom whispered, making you stifle a laugh to not draw attention back to the two of you.

“Rose doesn’t even snore that loud.” You admitted quietly, “Even with your sweatshirt, I was still too cold to sleep.”

“I can give you another one when we get back. You can double up.” He offered, “But it was pretty cold last night.”

“Thanks. I’ll probably take you up on that.” You smiled softly at him. “You know, I’m really happy you came.”

“I’m happy I came, too. Thanks for inviting me.” He replied, and you nodded in response. Tom paused after a moment, stopping his tracks to look at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Wait, did you not expect me to come?”

You looked at him in confusion, before answering, “I mean I did, but-“

“But I’m not outdoorsy, so you didn’t think I’d actually be here.” Tom grumbled in agitation, beginning to walk again quickly to catch up to the group. You ran up after him.

“Is that what this is about?” You questioned, your voice unintentionally raised, “That I said you weren’t the camping type back home?”

Harrison and Rose turned to look at the two of you, and Tom just bit his tongue to keep from exploding about the sensitive subject. He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he just felt so inadequate with Will going on and on about trees and shit.

“What is going on with you?” You questioned with a huff of frustration.

“It’s nothing. Let’s just keep going.” Tom stated, shaking his head.

“I’m not going one more step until you tell me what the hell is up.”

“What’s the hold up?” Will called back when he noticed the stop in your hike. Tom went to step forward to continue the journey, but missed his footing on a particularly slick patch of leaves. 

A collective, concerned shout came from you and Harrison as Tom hit the ground. He groaned in pain, and Rose came to his side. All frustration at him slipped out of you as worry flooded your system.

“Tom, oh my god- are you okay?” You asked.

“I think I rolled my ankle.” Tom said, cradling his ankle in his lap.

Rose looked at it briefly, no noticeable swelling or bruising yet. “Can you stand on it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He replied before pushing himself to his feet. He bit back a grimace, standing on his ankle as normal, and you didn’t seem to be the only one to notice it. “Let’s finish the hike, yeah?” 

“You’re not hiking on that.” Rose shook her head with a small laugh.

“I don’t want to hold you all back. I can manage it, really.”

“It’s fine. We’ll continue on. Y/N can lead you back.” Jane spoke up, a little smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ll go with.” Harrison offered.

“As the house nurse, I feel obligated to walk back with him.” Rose added, and you caught the blush that touched her cheeks.

And just like that, it was settled. You, Rose, and Harrison would walk back with Tom, who was doing his best not to limp, which everyone saw through. Rose and Harrison made conversation the whole walk back, while you and Tom just stayed awkwardly silent. By the time you all made it back to the house, he still hadn’t spoken to you. You went to put away your hiking gear and found Tom a few minutes later, sitting on the porch as he looked at the forest before him, an ice pack on his elevated ankle to help with potential swelling.

“I meant what I said.” You spoke up quietly as you sat in the chair beside him. When he just continued to look straight ahead and not physically acknowledge your presence, you continued, “I am really happy that you’re here, Tom. I didn’t say that because I didn’t think you’d want to come. The only reason I wouldn’t expect you to come is because you’re always busy. I guess what I really meant was that I’m grateful you were able to make time for me this week, especially because I know the countless other, more fun things you could be doing right now. It really means a lot.”

After another brief silent moment passed between the two of you, he looked over at you with a small frown on his face. “Why would you think I wouldn’t make time for you?”

“Like I said, you’re busy. You do one movie after the other, and I feel like we hardly see each other anymore. It’s,” You trailed off, searching for the right word, “comforting that you’d want to spend your free time with me.”

“You’re my best friend. Of course, I’d want to spend time with you.”

You knew his words were sweet and that he meant every single one of them, but you still felt a small, subtle twist in your gut.  Another unnatural silence fell between the two of you until Rose came outside like a true savior.

“We’re planning on making s’mores tonight, are you down?” She asked, a cheery smile on her face.

“I’m offended you’re even asking me that.�� You stated, and she rolled her eyes at you. You turned to Tom, smiling, “You’re going to love them. Just don’t burn yourself.”

“Burn myself?” He looked at you as if you were crazy, making you laugh.

“Don’t scare him.” Rose teased, “Besides, my money’s on Harrison burning himself first.”

“I heard that!” He called from inside the cabin through the screen door.

Just as Rose was about to leave to go back inside, Tom spoke up, raising his hand a little, still confused, “How do you burn yourself on s’mores?”

Several hours later, he got his answer.

“Ow, fuck, shit, ow.” Harrison cursed, dropping his burnt marshmallow into the dirt.

“That’s how.” You laughed as Rose clinked her s’more against yours.

“How do you know when it’s ready?” Tom asked, eyeing the marshmallow at the end of his stick. He slowly rotated the stick in his hands just as you had told him to do.

“Golden brown are the best, but they’re tricky to make because you can burn them instantly, which is what Harrison did.” You teased your blond friend beside you before taking a bite of your perfect s’more and turning back to face Tom on your other side. “Burnt ones aren’t bad, they just have a more burnt flavor, obviously.”

“So is it ready yet?” He questioned, but he was looking at you not at his roasting marshmallow.

“No,” You giggled. You finished off your s’more with another bite and scooted closer to him on the log. You placed your hand on top of his on the stick, twisting it so that the marshmallow was a few inches above the flame instead of right by the firewood. “And you just keep rotating it. You can see there’s already a gold hue to it.”

You smiled, looking over at him to find him already gazing at you with a soft smile of his own playing on his lips. The light from the campfire made his brown eyes sparkle with specks of gold.

“It’s burning!” Jane exclaimed, and you quickly retracted the stick and marshmallow, blowing out the fire on the now burned marshmallow.

“Well, it’s golden on one side, but burnt marshmallows are an essential part of the s’mores making business.” You said as you passed the stick back to Tom. You gathered the two parts of a graham cracker as well as some Hershey’s chocolate and set it up for a s’more.

“I think I need help with this part.” Tom admitted with a chuckle.

“So you put the marshmallow here.” You pointed at the graham cracker topped with a piece of chocolate. He moved the stick to put the marshmallow in its proper position, and then you put the other half of the graham cracker on top. Grasping the two graham crackers with the marshmallow in the middle, you finished, “And now pull out.”

“Hah, pull out.” Tyler laughed at the innuendo through a face full of his double stacked s’mores. Tom did as told, his eyes lighting up in excitement when you presented him his very own s’more.

“Ta-da. It’s real rocket science, isn’t it?” You joked, and Harrison elbowed you, still grumpy that he had lost his first marshmallow and burnt his hand trying to catch it.

“Burnt and fallen marshmallows are just casualties of s’more making.” Rose said.

“S’mores have to be the thing I miss most about living here— the U.K. just doesn’t do camping quite as well.” You stated, shaking your head a little in disbelief.

“How could you miss s’mores more than us?” Will asked, a playfulness in his voice, but you could recognize the serious undertones of his words.

“I’d miss s’mores more than I’d miss you.” Rose teased, saving you from having to actually think of a response.

“Hand me a marshmallow. I’m ready to try again for a golden one.” Tom said to you, and you reached over into the marshmallow bag beside you, slipping him the soft treat.

“Good luck.” You encouraged him with a laugh.

Tom’s second attempt ended up burnt as well, and you gladly ate it while he made his third one. By the time it was golden brown and ready to be eaten, Jane, Tyler, and even Will had retired for the night.

“That tastes so much better not burnt to a crisp.” Tom said, impressed by his own marshmallow-roasting skills.

“Camping heaven.” You agreed, finishing off the s’more he’d burned earlier.

Rose stood up with a small sigh, stretching her arms. “I think I might head to bed.”

“Me too.” Harrison stated, getting up after her. Tom looked at him questioningly, and you bit your lip, giving Rose a teasing look. She rolled her eyes at you, smiling to herself as she turned to head towards the cabin.

Noticing how Harrison’s hand caught hers once they were a decent distance from the campfire, you called out to them, “Good night!”

“Night!” They chorused back.

“Haz and Rose seem to have hit it off.” Tom commented once they were inside. Your eyes drifted from the dying fire up to the starry sky overhead. 

“Yeah, they really have.” You nodded, caught up focusing on the twinkling lights above you. Quietly, you admitted, “I’ll never get tired of looking at the stars.”

“I bet your neck will.” He joked, making you shake your head.

“They’re just so beautiful.” You mumbled.

“Really beautiful.” You heard Tom murmur under his breath. Your eyes flickered over to him, noticing how he was definitely staring at you and not the stars in the sky. When he turned to face the campfire, your eyes diverted back up to the stars, trying your best to suppress how fast your heart was racing.

“I used to know all of the constellations too. Will and I used to camp a lot, and I’d just study the stars until I fell asleep.” You confessed, attempting to strike up a conversation to keep you from your thoughts. When Tom said nothing in reply, a small sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes trailed back down to Tom beside you. Staring right into the dying campfire, he looked deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked him, nudging him a little with your shoulder.

“It’s nothing.” Tom shook his head, but his attempts to play off his thoughts didn’t work on you. After a moment, he spoke up, barely meeting your eyes as he did so, “Did you and Will really— you know— in my movie—“ he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question. He was already apprehensive about the answer, and yet he couldn’t help himself from asking.

“In Infinity War?” You asked, laughing lightly at his question, or lack thereof. Looking up towards the sky again, you replied, “Unless you count the fastest handjob ever, no, we didn’t.”

Tom was silent, making you look back over at him. His shoulders were shaking as he bit his lip, doing his best to stifle his laughter.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, playfully hitting his arm. “It wasn’t like you were dying in the scene or anything. You weren’t even on the screen.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He insisted, before breaking into a fit of laughter, unable to contain it any longer. In that moment, you felt complete tranquility. Tom’s laughter broke through the silence of the atmosphere, making your heart flutter in happiness. His eyes were shut, and you could count every crinkle by his eyes. With the fire illuminating his features just right, he was positively glowing. If you wanted any moment to last forever, it was this one. Tom settled his laughter, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but it’s just-” He paused, and his smile faltered momentarily, “It’s a relief.”

“A relief?” You repeated before you could help yourself, and Tom realized his words.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, thinking on his feet of an explanation, “It would’ve been really awkward if I was dying, and you and Will- yeah.” He stopped himself short, and a comfortable silence overcame the two of you.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked, not wanting the conversation to end. If it ended, then that meant the night was over and your precious alone time with Tom was over.

“It’s fine, now. Honestly, it didn’t hurt that much.” He replied with a bit of a nod. You watched as he sucked in a tight breath, “I’m sorry about what happened earlier on the hike. I got frustrated and a little jealous. I was so determined to prove that I could be like Will that I just ended up being a dick.”

His words took a moment to sink in, but you found a small smile breaking over your face as you understood the layers of their meaning. You reached out and touched his knee. Softly, you admitted, “You have no reason to be jealous over Will. I’d never want you to be like him. The main reason that I broke up with him was because, well, he’s not you.”

You could see Tom think about your words for a moment before, ever so slowly, he started to lean in. Tom’s lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours, tenderly moving in sync as you both caved into your suppressed feelings. With one hand cupping your cheek, Tom’s other hand moved to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You paid no mind to the uncomfortableness of your position on the log, too lost in the kiss to think straight. For the second time that night, you wished that this moment would last forever.

But it came to a quick, bittersweet end as Tom pulled away. His face stayed close to yours, his breath fanning over your face. A smile crossed his lips, “That took us way too long.”

“Way, way too long.” You agreed. He went to pull you in for another kiss, but the sudden cold of the dying fire pulled you two back to reality. Almost reluctantly, you said, “I guess we should probably head inside.”

It was far too cold for either of you to want to stay outside without the comforting heat. Gathering the food and putting out the last of the fire, you two walked back to the cabin, hand in hand.

“Thank you for the s’mores.” Tom said quietly to you, aware that most likely everyone in the cabin was sleeping. He placed the last couple bags of marshmallows and graham crackers on the kitchen counter (the chocolate was all eaten long ago), and you made a mental note to take care of it in the morning. 

“Any time.” You joked softly. Tom leaned in to give you a quick, but just as sweet good night kiss.

As he made his way over to the stairs, he spoke up again, “Don’t get too cold tonight.”

“Good night, Tom.” You laughed lightly, turning towards your bedroom door.

“Good night, Y/N.” 

With one last exchange of soft, sleepy smiles, you both turned to go your separate ways.

When you entered your quaint cabin room, you were met with Rose’s snores, a sharp contrast to your favorite sound that was Tom’s laughter from moments ago. You quietly maneuvered around the room, getting ready for bed. A smile ghosted your lips as you tugged on Tom’s hoodie. The familiar warmth and scent enveloping you comfortably.

You waited for sleep to overcome you on the cold bed; it felt like hours (when really, it was probably only ten minutes) before you finally decided to get up. With a small sigh, you shuffled out of the bed. Maybe the couch would give you more peace than your shared room.

As you made your way out of your room, you heard a door downstairs open. Curiously, you peeked down the staircase to see Tom emerging from the bathroom, in nothing but basketball shorts.

“What are you still doing up?” Tom asked you with his voice just above a whisper. You silently made your way down the stairs until you were in front of him.

“Couldn’t sleep. The room hasn’t gotten any warmer since last night.” You admitted, subconsciously crossing your arms.

“Come here.” Tom slowly uncrossed your arms, taking one of your hands loosely in his. He led you to his room. The door creaked open and shed some light into the dark bedroom. Wordlessly, he brought you over to his bed and dropped your hand to shuffle the blankets.

“What about Haz?” You whispered as Tom slipped into his bed, laying sideways and as close to the wall as possible to make some room for you.

“It’ll be fine.” He reassured you. You slid into the bed, finding comfort under the blankets. You laid on your side facing Tom, and it was then that you realized just how small the twin bed was— you two were close enough to each other that you could feel his minty breath fan over your cheeks, which still made you nervous even though just ten minutes ago he’d kissed you.

“We’re never going to fall asleep like this.” You teased softly. Tom let out a quiet laugh, shuffling so he was flatter on his back, giving you room to lay in his arms. With your head pressed to his bare chest and his strong arms circling around you, you finally found warmth.

“You’re really warm.” You mumbled into his chest, snuggling into his embrace and letting your legs tangle comfortably with his. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had cuddled, but it was the first time the two of you have cuddled on a tiny bed and with him being shirtless.

“Makes me the best cuddling partner.” Tom mumbled, his chest shaking lightly underneath you as he chuckled. You hummed in agreement, a smile forming on your face.

“Do you two ever shut up?” You heard Harrison question from the bunk above you.

“Do you always have to ruin a perfectly good moment?” Tom replied, and you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“I better not wake up in the middle of the night to noises.” He grumbled. The bed shuffled as he flipped over in his bed to get comfortable.

“Haz, that’s just you snoring.” You teased. He muttered something incoherent and you whispered to Tom, “Let’s wait until he starts snoring and then move his mattress to the lake.”

“Deal.”

Unfortunately for you but luckily for Harrison, you drifted off quickly, listening to the sound of Tom’s heart beating underneath you. You couldn’t help yourself; he made for the best pillow and the best heat source.

The next morning, you woke up with a start, hearing a loud thud from right beside you. Blearily, you leaned over the edge of the twin bed to find the source of the sound; when you saw a groaning, half-asleep Tom on the floor below you, a fit of laughter overcame you. The blankets were falling off the bed, all tangled up in his legs.

“Did you fall off the bed?” Harrison asked, even though all three of you already knew the answer, and you looked up to see him peering over the edge of the bunk bed.

“It’s not funny.” Tom muttered, frowning in faux annoyance at your continued laughter.

You held your hands out to him, offering to help him up even though you were in an impossible position to really help, still laying in the actual bed. Teasingly, you asked, “You got an owie?”

Chuckling, Tom reached up and grabbed your hands, pulling you off the bed. You let out a yelp as you landed on top of him, in a similar position to just last night. Your legs subconsciously fell on either side of his to somewhat straddle him, and you lifted yourself up on the palms of your hands to look down at him properly, a smile etched on your face. The familiar intoxicating pull from last night returned; you almost forgot Harrison was in the room— key word, almost.

“Get up before I come down there and join in.”

And with that, you quickly got off of Tom, and he scrambled to his feet. As Harrison came down the bunk bed ladder, you and Tom put the blankets back onto the bottom bed. You pondered where last night left the two of you, and you weren’t sure how to approach the subject. You were clearly more than friends, but were you more than friends in front of the others?

“What’s for breakfast?” Harrison asked, cutting you off from your thoughts. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you tried to somehow be alone with Tom to talk things over. It felt odd how things ended last night— not a bad odd, but odd nonetheless. Between the guys going for yet another run and you all spending time at the lake together, it just seemed like the opportunity would never come.

“God, I can’t believe it took you that long.” Rose teased, a giddy smile on her face as she cut off your recounting of last night. The boys were outside chopping some firewood while you, Rose, and Jane prepared dinner.

Jane winked at you jokingly, “What was it like?”

“What was what like? The kissing?” You asked, and she nodded.

“We want all the details!”

“In all honesty, it was the best kiss of my life.” You admitted, the butterflies you felt last night returning at just the thought.

As the three of you continued to talk, coo, and gossip about the four boys outside, they were hard at work. The late afternoon summer sun was bearing down on them, and they had stripped away their shirts earlier. Tom decided very early on that he didn’t like chopping wood, even if Harrison was somehow worse at it than him. While Tom and Harrison mainly kept to themselves, Will and Tyler had their own conversations going, despite the others clearly within earshot.

“You and Jane— I don’t know how you do it. One girl for all those years?” Will commented, and Tyler laughed with a shrug.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know what I would do without her. Plus, she’s the best fuck I’ve ever had.” Tyler said crassly, making his friend laugh.

“Mine was by far Y/N.” He stated, loudly, as if to ensure that Tom would hear it. At the sound of your name, Tom and Harrison both began to listen in on the conversation.

“It’s been years. Surely, there’s been someone else.”

“Nope.” Will protested, stopping his work to lean on the axe handle, “She was supposed to come over last night, but she must’ve gotten lost.” Tom couldn’t stop himself from scoffing at his words. Hearing the sound, Will turned to face Tom, “Got something to say?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Tom said, dropping the axe. Holding himself up straighter, he made his way closer to Will. Harrison hesitantly stepped closer to Tom as the brunet continued, “She didn’t get lost, she just had a better option.”

“Better option? You mean you?” He bit back. “Yesterday, you couldn’t even do a simple hike without hurting yourself, and you’re shit at chopping wood. You may think you’re hot shit in London, but this is my turf, movie star. I’m the one who gets the girl here.”

Harrison went to grab Tom’s balled fist, but he was too late as Tom had already swung, nailing the surprised Will right in the nose. Will responded quickly, throwing a punch back at Tom. Tyler and Harrison exchanged questioning looks, silently wondering if they should break up the fight or just let them go at it, but the pair decided the former was probably a better idea.

Aware of sudden commotion outside, you, Rose, and Jane all rushed to the balcony, wondering what could possibly be happening. The fight between Tom and Will was ending as Harrison and Tyler both successfully pulled their respective friends away from the other. Even from the distance, you could see the new bruises on Tom’s face and Will’s bloody nose; it was most likely broken, but you didn’t have it in you to care. The boys were unaware of you and the others, until Harrison looked up at the balcony. He gave you a sad smile, and Tom was next to look up. Ashamed, he didn’t dare to meet your eyes and, instead, grabbed his shirt from a nearby log and trudged his way down to the lake.

Your eyes flickered to Will, and a pit of anger flamed inside you. Just by the look on his face, you didn’t even need to question who was the antagonist. Not bothering to say a word to Rose or Jane, you marched downstairs and out to where Will, Tyler, and Harrison remained.

“What did you say to him?” You questioned Will angrily. 

“Nothing he didn’t already know.” He replied nonchalantly.

“That’s bullshit, Will. This is all just bullshit. Every chance you get, you bring up something to antagonize Tom and embarrass me. And, every time you do that, you just remind me that you’re half the man Tom is.”

“You’re acting like I was the one to start the fight. News flash, princess, your man threw the first punch.” Will said, bitterly.

You stepped closer to him, your eyes hardening, and you swore you saw fear flicker in his eyes. “Believe me, if Tom hadn’t broken your nose already, I would break it myself.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and headed down to the lake. You knew they were all watching you-- Harrison, Tyler, and Will from the ground and Rose and Jane from the balcony. The sun was already starting to line the tops of the trees across the lake, and you felt your anger slowly dissipating as you saw Tom sitting on the dock. With his legs swinging off the edge, he looked at peace, but you knew him better than that; a storm was brewing in his head.

You didn’t say anything, and Tom made no effort to look away from his hands in his lap as you approached. Silently, you sat down right next to him at the end of the dock. Now that you were beside him, you noticed the bruise forming on his eyebrow and the cut on his lip. Will definitely got a few good shots at him, but you could tell Tom had gotten him worse. Your eyes trailed down to his hands; his knuckles were red in agony. Slowly, you reached your hand out to grab his injured one.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Tom mumbled, but you could tell he was holding back the truth. You tenderly placed a kiss on each of his red knuckles before intertwining your fingers.

“Wanna talk about what happened?” You asked him quietly, fearing if you spoke too loud the fragile moment would somehow be ruined.

“He was talking about you like you were just a good fuck and nothing more.” He replied, his voice just as soft as yours.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, your heart fluttering at the thought that he was defending you. You let go of his hand and turned to properly face him. The smile never left your face as you cupped his face in your hands. Confused, Tom asked through a laugh, “What are you doing?”

You kissed his bruised eyebrow before responding, “Well, I’ve got to kiss it better, don’t I?”

“I think you missed a spot then.” Tom pointed to his lips with a cheeky grin. You pressed a chaste kiss to the cut on his lip, before teasingly pulling away. You didn’t get far as Tom’s hand went to the back of your neck, bringing you in for another, deeper kiss. Caught up in the moment, you somehow forgot about his cut; it wasn’t until you nibbled on his bottom lip, accidentally catching the cut, that you remembered and Tom pulled away with a quiet groan.

“I’m sorry.” You said through a laugh, though you were still genuinely concerned about him. Your fingers traced lightly over the agitated cut.

“It’s okay.” He reassured you. One of his hands trailed up your arm to your own hand, and he brought it to his lips, kissing it just as gently as you had kissed his knuckles. “You’re cold.”

“Guess my personal heater isn’t working.” You teased.

“Come here.” Tom beckoned you closer to him. You slid into his side, snuggling into his warm embrace. With his arm hanging around your shoulders, you slipped your fingers through his, smiling at the ease of it all.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You mumbled, looking at the beauty of the lake and the sunset before you. It was like a scene from a painting, a scene you wanted to memorize forever.

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you in closer to him. “We can stay here as long as you’d like, darling.”

[falloutjay]

Craig x cheery reader please (a little context: team Craig saved her from a bully, reader secretly thinks Craig doesn't actually care about her and Clyde and her are close but like platonically)

I had such a joy writing this, I just hope it still fits the request, as I am unsure if I hit the prompt.

I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! <3

__________________________________

Craig x Cheery!Reader

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” You said annoyed.

Why wouldn’t Francis just leave you alone you wondered. You never said anything mean, more like the opposite. You were just a really friendly classmate that never said anything mean to anyone. So why out of all people Francis decided to pick you to bully was a mystery to you.

“I bet you’re only so friendly because in reality, no one loves you.” You decided that just ignoring him would probably be the best course of action, but once you kept quiet, it agitated Francis only more.

He slammed you against the lockers to your right and kept you trapped there. You actually felt terrified. Before anything could happen, a monotonous and nasal voice to your left demanded your attention.

“Francis, you’re blocking my locker.”

“Fuck off Craig, I’m busy.” Behind Craig was his gang, consisting of Clyde Donovan, Token Black, Tweek Tweak, and Jimmy Valmer.

You never really interacted with them, as they just stayed in their small group. “You’re blocking my locker.” Craig repeated. “And I said I don’t-“ Francis couldn’t get any further before Craig shoved him.

“Fuck off asshole. Get lost before we hurt you.” Craig's expression was bored as always and he flipped Francis the middle finger, his trademark.

“This ain’t over (L/N)!” Francis cursed under his breath before he took off. Nervously you turned to Craig and his friends with a big smile stretched across your face.

“Oh, thank you, Craig!” He just shrugged and carefully pushed you aside to get to his locker, which you just were pinned against. “You can’t get pushed around like that Y/N.” Clyde said with worry in his voice.

“I-Its fine, really.” You laughed nervously. “No, it’s not. Clyde is right, you shouldn’t be pushed around like that. Why don’t you sit at lunch with us?” Token now chirped in too and your eyes widened at the proposition. “I’d love too!” You beamed.

It had been ages since that day, and you still thought about that day ever so often. Francis left you alone after that day since you always hung around Craig and those guys now. You had become great friends with the guys, and you were really close with Clyde.

You rested with him next to you on his bed in just this moment. “Whatcha thinking about, Happy?” Happy was a special nickname given to you by Clyde.

You two were born mood makers and could make anyone smile, even the stoic Craig Tucker. “Nothing important. Just thinking about when you guys invited me to come sit with you.”

“Ahh, that was a great day.” Clyde mumbled. It was a regular thing for you and Clyde to just hang out in one of your bedrooms, chilling on the bed, and talk about all kinds of stuff.

“So, how’s it going with Bebe?” You asked him. “Great, thanks for that restaurant tip. She loved it there.”

“I went there with my parents, and I thought you could impress her with it.” You two high-fived, without getting up. You really couldn’t wish for a better friend than Clyde.

“So, how’s your love life going?” Aaand now you hated him. “Ahh, don’t ask. It’s shit.” Clyde furrowed his eyebrows; not like you could see. “Is it really that bad?”

“Yeah.”

“But why?”

“Clyde! You can’t just ask people that!” You said in a whiney tone.

“Ah come on Happy, tell me. I’m your best friend. Who are you gonna tell besides me?” He had a point, you thought. You propped yourself up on one elbow and gave him a death glare.

“If you talk, you’re a dead man, Donovan.” Clyde sat up and leaned on the bedframe.

“I won’t say a word.” You took a deep breath and began explaining. “So, you know…I mean I…ehhh…I kinda like someone from our friends’ group.”

“I’m sorry, Happy, but I’m already taken.” Clyde said in a dramatic fashion. You flipped him the bird, something you copied from Craig but you only used it against Clyde, since he never took it personally.

“No. Not you… Its… I like…Craig, even if I don’t think he cares that much about me.” When you said the name, it was barely more than a whisper, but Clyde still heard it. His grin widened and he seemed hyped.

His hands landed on his cheeks with a faint slapping noise.

“Oh my god. My two best friends wanna bang each other.”

“What.”

“What.” Clyde’s happy expression became a shocked one, once he noticed what he just blurted out. “So, Craig likes me?” You asked confused.

“No! I mean…Yes, but I didn’t say it!” He stressed the “I” in particular. You felt shocked. You always thought Craig didn’t like you all that much, because he was always a little cold to you and he barely interacted with you.

“But I thought he didn’t like me.” Clyde gave himself a facepalm, cursing himself out for having spilled the tea. “Well, since I am already fucked… He does like you and shit. He is just…Bad at showing it. Like, he tries to interact so little with you, because he’s afraid you will notice how you make him blush and shit.”

“I-” You pointed with your finger at yourself. “Make him blush?” You questioned. “Yes, Happy, you do. Didn’t know you’re blind.” He said and you two heard the doorbell. The others had arrived.

You had gone with Clyde immediately after school, while the other wanted to join later for the video game night. Clyde got up from the bed and stopped at his room door.

“I swear, if you snitch on me, I'll kill you. I love you, but I won't hesitate bitch.” He pointed a finger pistol at you and pretended to shoot you. You pretended to get shot and rolled off the bed in a slow and dramatic manner.

You two laughed before Clyde sprinted downstairs to let the others in. You remained on the floor, pretending to be a corpse. When the others came into the room, Token was the one to question what you were doing.

“Clyde shot me.” You explained and pretended to be in severe pain. “Cl-Clyde. Don’t shoot o-our only o-o-other fu-funny friend.” Jimmy mocked him and Clyde pretended to laugh.

“Haha, very funny.” He commented dryly. You got up and sat back down on the bed.

“You can put your sleeping bags down here and then you can help me make your pizza in the kitchen.” Clyde instructed and gave you a wink. You quickly caught onto what he was trying to do and mouthed a big fat “NO.” to him, but he just smiled.

“Ah fuck you, Clyde.” You thought. You loved him to death, but right now he was being an annoying bitch, that tried saving his skin by having you confess so Craig wouldn’t figure out that the brown-haired snitched.

You just kept sitting on the bed, while the guys one by one left the room. Craig was the last one to leave but he stopped once he saw that you stayed on the bed.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna come with us?” He questioned, but you shrugged. “I dunno. Kinda busy thinking about stuff.” You smiled warmly. “Thinking about what?” Craig left the door ajar and stepped back into the room to lean on Clyde’s white Ikea dresser, which was opposite of you.

“I think I wanna ask a guy o-out, but I don’t really know how to do that. Any tips?” You asked in your sweetest and innocent voice. You really prayed that Clyde was correct but why shouldn’t he be.

But there still was this tiny fear in the back of your head that you were gonna make a fool of yourself in a few seconds.

“Well…” Craig seemed to think about it for a second. “Personally, I would just appreciate it if someone would just straight up ask me, you know? This whole playing around shit is stupid if you ask me.” You nodded.

“Hey, Craig?”

“Yeah?” He asked and shifted his gaze from the window to your innocent face.

“Would you maybe go out with me?” You asked and felt like you just lost all ground beneath your feet. For a short second, you felt like you were going to faint.

But once you saw that a faint shade of pink appeared on his face, you felt giddy, the butterflies in your stomach were going wild. Craig cleared his throat, before answering with a red face; “Y-Yeah sure. What about tomorrow? If you want, I’ll walk you home and we can hang out alone.”

You nodded; a big grin spread across your face. “That sounds amazing.” Craig offered you his hand and you stared at it for a second.

“Maybe we should go downstairs. You know…Otherwise, Clyde will choose our pizza toppings.”

“And we don’t want that, do we?” You asked you both laughed. You took Craig's hand and admired how warm it was.

“I’m surprised you like me. I always thought you didn’t care about me.” You whispered. Craig laughed, which caught you by surprise. “I'm just not good at these type of things.” He admitted sheepishly and scratched his neck.

“I guess.” You laughed to make the situation less awkward. Craig started leading you downstairs, not letting go of your hand. In the kitchen you found the others, fighting about their pizza toppings. Clyde was the only one to notice how you both had that light shade of pink lingering on your cheeks and that you held hands.

He smiled brightly and then made space for you two to also make your own pizza. The rest of the night went by peacefully, you guys played video games, snacked food, and talked about stupid stuff. The main entertainment was Jimmy, Clyde and you of course, as you were just the life of every get-together.

Craig watched you and Clyde in glee, as you and Clyde were playing Just Dance together like your life depended on it. He was sooo happy to now have you, someone who could break his stoic façade.

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Prologue}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both Shelby and I’s blogs! >> @snelbz​

We hope you all enjoy. :)

Cassian knew very little about Nesta Archeron, but he knew one thing for certain: she was hot as hell.

He had sworn he’d never go on another blind date, but Rhysand had begged, over and over again, for him to go out with the eldest sister of his girlfriend. So, to shut his brother up, Cassian agreed.

Reluctantly, but nonetheless. 

He took a quick shower where he bathed himself in a new bottle of body wash before stepping out and towel-drying his hair. Considering Nesta was Feyre’s sister, he felt the need to make a good first impression, although he wasn’t sure what a good impression was to Nesta Archeron.

He was hoping he was sufficient enough.

He dressed in his usual attire of jeans and old boots, but decided to wear a button up for once, rather than one of his go-to t-shirts. Still, he pulled on his leather jacket and grabbed his keys before hurrying out the door.

He typed the address Rhys had texted him into his gps, seeing the drive was going to take him nearly twenty minutes longer than he’d anticipated, thanks to an accident on the interstate.

He swore under his breath, throwing his truck into motion. He hurried across town and parked in front of Nesta’s townhouse, fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to. Flipping down his sun visor, Cassian ran a quick hand through his loose hair and was heading up to the front door, knocking twice.

Or he would have, if the door wasn’t pulled open the second his fist made contact with it.

Suddenly, in his jeans and leather jacket, he felt extremely underdressed.

Nesta Archeron wore a beautifully fitted dark blue dress that fell only a couple inches above her knees. She wore heels, and her hair was curled. A silver clutch was gripped tightly in her hand.

She eyed Cassian, from the top of his head to his toes. For once, even though he was half a foot taller than she, even in heels, Cassian felt smaller than shit.

“Hey,” he said, at last, once the silence became unbearably awkward.

“You’re Cassian?” she asked. 

“Were you expecting someone else?” he shot back.

Nesta’s lips thinned. “You’re late,” she said, instead. 

“At least I came,” he grinned. “Hungry?”

Nesta took a deep breath as she lifted her chin. “I suppose so.”

“Good,” he said, gesturing toward his running truck. “Let’s go. I made reservations.”

She locked her door and followed him down the sidewalk. “Are we going to be late for those, too?”

Cassian elected not to answer her, pausing at the passenger door and opening it for her. He let out a sigh as he rounded the truck to his own seat.

Something told him this was going to be a long night.

He was absolutely right.

Not a single word was said on the way to the restaurant across town, and, by some grace of the Cauldron, they made it on time for their reservations.

They were set at a table by the entrance quickly, and once their server arrived, Nesta ordered a glass of wine, while Cassian stuck with his usual beer.

“So,” Cassian began, clearing his throat as they waited for their drinks to arrive. “What should I know about you, Nesta?”

“That’s it?” she asked, brow raised. “That’s the question you’ll begin with?”

Cassian’s head fell to the side. “What question should I have gone with?”

Nesta took a moment to look around the bustling restaurant. “Well, you’ve yet to tell me how beautiful I look, or ask me how I’m doing tonight.”

Cassian couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine. You look nice. How are you?”

Nesta snorted. “Well, I waited twenty minutes for my date, thinking he wasn’t coming. Other than that, fine, I guess.” 

“You don’t do this often, do you?” Cassian asked. There was nothing accusatory in his tone, just simple curiosity.

“Do what?” Nesta asked, the words nearly clipped.

“Date,” Cassian replied, simply. “Go out with someone for the first time.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No. I don’t particularly have a lot of free time to waste.”

Cassian’s eyebrows rose at her choice of words. “You don’t have to be here, you know?”

The server quietly returned to the table, setting their drinks down, before hurrying away, sensing the tension between the two. Nesta’s eyes didn’t leave him the whole time. She picked up her wine glass, taking a long drink, before she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you clearly would rather be anywhere but here,” Cassian replied, leaning back in his seat. “I’d hate to waste your time.”

She was about to reply when a voice came from their left.

“Cassian?”

He looked over his shoulder to find an old friend - a term that he used very, very loosely. 

Tanwyn and he had a very complicated relationship. They were friends - at least, they had been at one time. It had all become very complicated the first time he had invited her into his bed.

And the second time.

And the third.

And every time after that.

He smiled at her, almost hesitantly. “Hey, Tan. What are you doing here?”

“Here with some friends,” she grinned, approaching their table. “And you?”

“Here with…” Cassian’s voice trailed off as he looked across the table. “This is Nesta Archeron. Nesta, this is Tanwyn-.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nesta said, words clipped. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re on a date.”

She blinked, taken aback at Nesta’s cold greeting. “Right… Sorry to interrupt. I’ll see you later, Cass.” She nodded to Nesta. “Nice to meet you.”

She was gone before Cassian could say another word, and he looked at Nesta incredulously.

She raised her glass before putting it to her lips. “So when is the last time you slept with her?”

Cassian was stunned, shaking his head. “She’s a friend, there was no reason to be rude.”

“My question still stands.” Nesta folded her hands on the table, her eyes on Cassian’s.

“How do you even know-? What are you, a psychologist?”

“No, I’m a chef,” she said, glaring at him. “But you show everything on that pretty little face of yours. It was easy to read.”

He closed his eyes, dragging a hand down his face. “We just need to…start over. This is all going wrong.”

Nesta stayed quiet before finally nodding. “Fine.”

The server picked that time to return, the two of them ordering their food, and the awkward first date conversation began again.

“I have to be honest,” Cassian began. “I’m not sure where to even begin.”

“Your name would be fine,” Nesta said, sipping from her glass.

Cassian watched her for a moment to make sure she was serious before saying, “Cassian Nazari. Childhood friend of Rhys’.”

“And your occupation?” she asked, in all seriousness. 

“I’m a bartender,” Cassian said.

Nesta stared at him for a moment before asking, “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously, and before you make any judgements, bartenders make damn good money,” Cassian said.

“Interesting,” Nesta said, watching him intently. 

“Right,” Cassian muttered. “Now, will you give me some insight into you or should I beg?”

Nesta rolled her eyes before saying, “I’m Nesta. And, yes, lie I said, I’m a chef. I’ve got a little restaurant in the Square”

“That sounds…interesting,” he said, repeating her words. “And your Feyre’s sister?”

“I am,” she said, pausing as the server brought out salads and she began to eat hers, without any dressing.

Cassian, on the other hand, nearly drowned his in ranch dressing. He watched as she ate her plain lettuce. “That looks…boring.”

“Salad dressing is fattening. It negates all of the goodness of the salad.” She took another bite, chewing and looking at him, then his salad swimming in ranch. “You look like you take care of yourself, I’m surprised you don’t watch what you eat as well.”

He scoffed. “I work out, but I’m not going to be miserable and eat rabbit food.” He gestured to the bowl in front of her.

She rolled her eyes, but continued to eat her rabbit food.

Silence grew between them but neither of them attempted to break it. It wasn’t until their main courses arrived that Cassian nodded toward the cursive ink on the inside of her wrist. 

“You have a tattoo,” he said.

She eyed the ink that swirled around his arms, up beneath his rolled up sleeves. “I have a few,” she confessed. 

“What are they?” he asked, starting to cut up his steak.

She took a bite of her salmon, chewing it slowly before deflecting his question with one of her own, “What are yours?”

Cassian glanced down at the swirls and marks of black ink that covered his forearms. “They’re Illyrian tribal marks. They all mean something different, but I would be lying if I told you I knew what every one of them meant.” 

Nesta snorted. “Then why have them?”

Cassian met her eyes. “My mother was Illyrian. I grew up in Illyria, with her tribe.” 

It seems the answer nearly took her back, but she ended up nodding, curtly. “How is your steak?”

“Too done,” he said, shrugging as he took a bite. “I like my meat red.” Her nose crinkled slightly. He asked, “What?”

Nesta shrugged. “I don’t eat meat.”

He blinked and watched as she took another bite of salmon. “You’re…eating fish.”

An eye roll was her reply. “I don’t eat red meat,” she clarified.

“So you’re a vegetarian?” He asked.

“No, I just don’t like to eat red meat. Chicken, pork, fish,” she gestured to her plate. “I like that. But I just prefer not to eat red meat.”

“Hmm.” It was more of a non-answer than anything, but before she could say anything, a man appeared, standing next to their table. Cassian glanced up at him. “Can we help you?”

He wasn’t looking at him though. He was looking at Nesta, who was pointedly not looking at him.

“What are you doing, Nes?”

She took a drink of her wine, draining the glass. “This doesn’t concern you, Tom.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “We take a break and less than a month later, you’re on a date?”

She finally looked at him. “We’re not on a break, I broke up with you.”

Cassian cleared his throat. “Is this where all exes gather?” He looked around again to see if he saw Tanwyn, but she was gone.

“Leave,” Nesta said, plainly. “I can’t enjoy my dinner with you standing over me like the controlling bastard you were in our relationship.”

Cassian’s lips nearly fell open.

The woman had balls.

He respected that.

“I hate to break up this little reunion, but this is awkward as hell,” Cassian muttered, popping a spoonful of garlic mashed potatoes into his mouth. 

“This doesn’t concern you,” Tomas said, looking to Cassian, using Nesta’s own words.

Cassian chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll give you two choices here, Tom. Either I call someone to take your ass away from our table or I make you leave, myself.”

“Tough guy, huh?” Tomas asked, putting a hand on Nesta’s shoulder.

Nesta brushed his hand off the second it made contact with her skin. “This is ridiculous. I’m calling over the server. We’re leaving.”

Cassian was inclined to agree. This date had been a catastrophe so far, but he was hopeful that maybe if she invited him in, he could salvage it.

Tomas seemed to take the hint, looking back to Nesta. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll talk about this entire situation then.”

She flagged down the server, but said to Tomas, “Don’t waste your time or mine.”

He walked away, muttering something under his breath, but the server returned and after a quick explanation from Nesta, she was off to get their check.

“Well, that was awkward,” Cassian said, clearing his throat, taking a drink of his beer, planning to finish it off.

“No more awkward than running into your fuck buddy,” she replied, pulling her lipstick out of her purse to re-apply it.

Cassian managed to swallow the mouthful of beer before he spewed it all over her. He coughed quietly. “You don’t tiptoe around anything, do you?”

Her answer was curt. “No.”

The server returned, standing the check book on the edge of the table, and Cassian elected to let the conversation drop at that. He reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

And froze.

It wasn’t there.

He checked every other pocket he had on him.

Nothing.

“Fuck,” he breathed, patting himself down.

Nesta arched a brow. “Issues?”

“I have to run out to the truck,” Cassian said, quietly. “I can’t seem to find my wallet.”

Nesta froze from where she sat behind her half-eaten salmon. “You forgot your wallet?”

“It’s probably in the truck-.”

“I didn’t see it in the truck-.”

“Then the glove box, maybe,” Cassian snapped. “Just, give me a minute.”

“Don’t bother,” Nesta bit, reaching across the table to grab the check.

Cassian got to it first and held it outside of her reach. “I can pay for it. I took you out, I’m paying.”

Nesta scoffed. “Spare me your holier than thou male bravado.” 

Cassian stood. “I just need to run out to my truck.”

She was on her feet, snatching the check book from him and looking at the total. Without another word, she reached into purse and laid down a series of bills, before closing it and heading for the door.

Sighing, Cassian followed her, his cheeks heating. Never had he let a woman pay for his dinner, and he’d sure as hell never let her pay for the first date.

He didn’t say a word as he unlocked her door, opening it, and closing it after she’d climbed in. He rounded to his own door, immediately looking around the cab for his wallet. It was nowhere to be seen. He reached across, opening the glovebox, pulling a few things out.

His wallet wasn’t one of them, but Nesta didn’t fail to notice the gold foil wrappers. And how many he had. She scoffed, buckling her seatbelt and looking out the window.

“I’ll pay you back,” he said, after he’d started the truck and had pulled onto the main road.

“No need,” she snapped, staring out the passenger side window. “Dropping me off and leaving me the hell alone will do.”

The words were barely audible. She spoke the words under her breath. And yet, Cassian felt them like a slap in the face. 

He was mortified.

He was at a loss for words.

He just wanted to go home.

He also wanted to make a move on Nesta Archeron.

There was something about the head-strong, independent woman that made Cassian swoon.

Not that it stopped the car ride back to her home any less silent and awkward.

“You’re Feyre’s sister,” Cassian said, randomly.

Nesta blinked, looking toward him. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No,” Cassian said quickly. “It’s just that, you’re so…” Different. Cruel. Different. Opposite. Different. Vindictive. Different. “Not the same,” Cassian finished, at last.

“I am my own person,” she snapped, as he stopped in front of her townhouse.

“I know you are, just-.” He sighed, turning to look at her. “This has been a mess from the start. Can I come in? I’d like some time for us to talk, just the two of us. No ex’s, no servers, no interruptions. I just want to get to know you.”

She laughed once.

The sound infuriated him.

“You mean you want to fuck me,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. He was, once again, caught off guard by how blunt she was. She pulled open his glovebox and removed the strip of condoms, holding them up. “Forgot your wallet, but made sure you didn’t forget these.”

Cassian slowly looked at her. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” she repeated. “What are you, a child?”

Cassian couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve tried to be the perfect gentleman tonight, alright? Yeah, I forgot my wallet, but-.”

“And we also ran into your fuck buddy, don’t forget about that,” Nesta said, with a vindictive grin. She opened the door, grabbed her purse, and hopped out.

Cassian was close behind her, following her up her walkway. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Nesta spun around. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she laughed, humorlessly. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Cassian asked, as she approached her front door.

“Yet you’re still following me to my door,” she said, not looking back at him. She unlocked the door, opening it and stepping inside. Turning back to him, she held the door in one hand, the hand holding her purse propped on her hip. “Thank you for a truly unforgettable evening, Cassian, but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, letting his gaze slowly drag from her head to her toes and back up again. He watched as her cheeks heated, anger lighting up her eyes. “Yeah, I think you’re right. You’re too stuck up for your own good. Too bad.”

She groaned before slamming the door in his face, praying she’d never have to see Cassian Nazari again.

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

                    Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

                      Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

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