#this drawing brought to you by Taylor Swift and Sleeping At Last

[rai-knightshade-art]

"...but it's all over now. All out to sea... I've got a lot to pine about, I've got a lot to live without; I'm never gonna meet, what could've been, would've been... What should have been you..."

Bigger Than the Whole Sky, Taylor Swift

(image ID in Alt text)

[timeforsomethrillingheroicsblog]

Syd/Richie Fic Recs

WIPS

Corner - Syd and Richie get sent on a roadtrip to pick up a new stove for The Bear, but they might get more than they bargained for along the way (Chapters: 3/?. Characters: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Carmen Berzatto, Neil Fak, Natalie Berzatto, Original Male Characters. Word Count: 8,510)

Loser Bitch (All The Way Down To The Bones) - Loster. N. A person or thing that loses or has lost something, especially a game or contest. (Chapters 2/3. Characters: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Carmen Berzatto, Marcus, Tina, Angel, Gary Woods, Natalie Berzatto, Eva Jerimovich, Emmanuel Adamu. Word Count: 7,623)

MULTI-CHAPTERED WORKS

In a New Light - Syd likes Richie a lot more than she initially thought she did. The only problem is that she isn't sure they're capable of liking each other without drawing blood. (Chapters: 5. Characters: Carmen Berzatto, Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 24,871)

SERIES

It Happened One Night - Sydney learned a long time ago to take her anger out on something she can’t hurt. (Works: 2. Characters: Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Characters: 13,449)

ONESHOTS

All Good Here - The only times that Syd and Richie had ever managed to get along were in fleeting moments, seconds that never lasted long enough and were always brought to an abrupt end with a sarcastic or scathing comment. (Characters: Carmen Berzatto, Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 3,599)

As Long As You're Here - Sydney has had a really, really long month and now she's 5 second away from throwing a glass at an annoying bartender. (AU. Characters: Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 4,508)

Bone Broth - It’s a gray Monday afternoon when Sydney rounds a corner at the grocery store and sees him at the other end of the aisle. (Characters: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich. Word Count: 10,020)

Chill Out - “You’re cold.” “Am not.” (Characters: Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 2,141)

I Close My Eyes and the Flashback Starts - "D'ya like Taylor Swift or not, Syd?" (Characters: Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 2,410)

I Feel For You - The thing with Richie was an accident; as much as going down on a man in your boss’ office after work can be an accident. (Characters: Carmen Berzatto, Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 3,318)

The Horoscope Today Said Things Would Go My Way - "What happened to 'rules are just unhelpful suggestions' and 'let go and live a little, Sydney'?" (Characters: Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu, Tiffany Jerimovich. Word Count: 1,909)

Tough - "Thanks," Syd said. "Mike, right?" "Berzatto," Mike said. He grinned, lopsided, and said, "It's a family place." (AU. Characters: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Michael Berzatto, Carmen Berzatto. Word Count: 13,737)

I'll Sleep in the Rain Under Your Headlights - “Wow, Richie, that’s so charming. You’re so fucking charming.” “Yeah, sweetheart, you could learn something.” (Characters: Carmen Berzatto, Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 6,407)

Mindfuck - "Alright, just checking. Because yesterday, you didn't even like me." "Well, whoop-de-fuckin'-do, I changed my mind," Syd said. (Characters: Carmen Berzatto, Eva Jerimovich, Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 25,232)

Sheets to the Wind - Sometimes you just want to be kissed. Sometimes you just need to feel somebody. Sometimes you have like, ten beers and you’re both there and bad tension is still tension so you make out. (Characters: Richie Jerimovich, Sydney Adamu. Word Count: 3,318)

[danisbrainrot]

lucy gray x reader

inspired by this song:

the beautiful sound of lucy gray humming in the kitchen brought a smile to your face, as you wrap your arms around her waist. you nuzzle your face into her neck, as she finishes the last of the dishes.

"I wrote a poem," she whispers, drawing a soft smile from you. you kiss her neck softly, before placing another soft peck on her cheek. "about you," you giggle, looking away to hide how flustered you were.

lucy gray grabs ahold of your hand, leading you to the communal sleeping area and sitting you down on her bed. she kisses your forehead before running off to fetch her guitar—you laugh, never really believing it was a simply a poem. lucy gray didn't write poems, she wrote lullabies.

once she was sat in front of you again, she began to softly sing and you recognise the tune from what she was humming before. it was a sweet, loving song about how much she appreciated you—your heart swelled with adoration for her. she sings, staring deeply into your eyes.

when she finally finishes, she grabs your hand and interlocks your fingers. "I just want you to know how much I appreciate you. you're not just my girlfriend. . . you're my best friend. the one person I find myself running home to. everyone always wants something from me, but with you. . . all you ever want is sweet nothing."

you laugh, wiping away tears you hadn't realised were forming. "I thought you were a performer," you tease. "you live for this kind of stuff."

she repositions her body, so that she could lay in your lap. "I know. I love what I do, truly. . . just sometimes I'm too soft for all of it," she replies, resting her head in your lap while you run your fingers through her hair.

you hum softly, soothing her as she felt her eyelids grow heavy and drift off to sleep.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

[This got very long, for which I'm very sorry, there was probably a more concise way of putting all of this but I'm bad at it.] Setting aside the questions of whether Harry wants to continue with his Blank Space approach to image (basically unknowable as fans) and whether it's long-term feasible (fascinating but different conversation), I wonder whether you think it's likely to be a successful approach even in the short (ish) term. Of course, Harry is wildly successful right now and I don't want to imply that's not the case or not acknowledge it. But I do think that the attitude towards him has changed, at least in the kind of media and cultural conversations about him. Some of that is I think just due to the fact that he got incredibly popular, but I do think some of it is as a result of choices he's made about how to handle things in the last year.

I tend to think that Holivia (writ large - it, the conversation around it, etc) did in fact harm his image, but I also think a lot of people who think that think it's because Olivia is a bad person and associating with a bad person made people dislike Harry, and I disagree pretty strongly with that explanation. But reading your post about the foundations of Harry's womanizer image made me think about this question slightly differently and maybe realize something. I think you were spot on in describing Caroline Flack and Taylor Swift as two seminal PR relationships in establishing Harry's appeal with women, and I think they both played into female fantasies. Especially, I think about the fact that one of the "dates" Harry and Taylor went on (and one that I still see a lot of pictures of brought out to this day) is the one where they took Lux. I think it was in part meant to soften the womanizer image - like, Harry might sleep with a lot of women, but he's not sleeping with hot models, he likes older women, he likes kids, he's a sensitive womanizer, or a womanizer without edge, maybe?

In any event, I can see how Holivia, in theory, hit some of those themes again - older woman with kids, yes, but the idea being, Harry is okay with women who have power, women who have complicated lives, hitting the liking kids theme again and hinting at a maturity in his image. And yet, it seems to have really fallen short of communicating those themes about Harry to the public, in ways that I think also translated to his broader image. Even though I think a lot of it was rooted in misogyny, it's impossible not to reckon with the fact that Olivia did draw a lot of negative attention and criticism while dating Harry, and I think that's where the Blank Space approach maybe fell apart. A lot of narratives about Holivia sprang up, even outside of Larry circles, that kind of had the effect of "absolving" Harry of dating someone as hated as Olivia. (I find it fascinating that there is a significant story in his fanbase in which Harry is attracted to and dates women and yet Olivia specifically was a PR relationship forced onto him by her/his team.) But there was also the good boyfriend Harry story, where he was in love with Olivia and hurt by her treatment from fans. Those two strands of stories were very inconsistent, in ways that made the Blank Space, leave room for both approach very difficult, if not impossible. I think people were expecting good boyfriend Harry to more definitively signal his support for Olivia and commitment to her, but doing that in a significant or definitive way would have jeopardized the alternative stories. And, for reasons that he knows and we don't, Harry never really seemed willing to definitively signal that support (i.e. at Venice, even just calling her his girlfriend - the most we got were his kind of mild comments about fans making it difficult to date, but that also included the "I don't think I've ever publicly dated anyone" comment so it was kind of a wash overall).

I think in choosing to handle that issue that way, Harry did some damage to his image, because the Blank Space approach seems to hinge on leaving room for multiple plausible positive stories to explain your behavior. Post-Holivia, I think the good boyfriend narrative has warped a little bit and people who believed that story now see him as more of a typical womanizer, and what had previously been believed to be a genuine sensitivity/maturity became perceived as like, a faux-soft fuckboy, because for all his sensitive lyrics when his girlfriend was getting absolutely hammered in the press and by his fans, he still didn't even call her his girlfriend (so how good of a fantasy boyfriend is he really?). I'd also argue this is where the queerbaiting discourse about Harry should be categorized - it's all kind of in the space of, we believed there was more to Harry behind what he showed us publicly and now we think there really is just blank space there, he's not as interesting as we gave him credit for (not saying any of that is either fair or true, but I think that's the undertone to conversations other people are having about him). And on the other side, by continuing to leave open the space for the Harry as victim narrative (and by playing into it with the MFASR mv), that narrative has only continued to grow - the Houdini/caged bird narratives about his upcoming music video (whether official or, more likely, fan-made), the response to the new tour dates. I just think Harry's been remarkably lucky in that the Blank Space approach has allowed for multiple positive narratives to coexist about him without really many negative narratives arising, whereas now it seems to me like, by failing to commit to one of the narratives he was trying to tell, he seems to have undermined the strategy as a whole and allowed for a lot of negative narratives to fill in that space. And I guess I just wonder where he goes from here, if not to actively establish some positive story about himself to combat those negative stories.

Thanks for your thoughts anon - I think they're really interesting and have sparked a few thoughts in me.

I'm going to deal with the Olivia question first and separately I think, before moving on to Harry. I think the important piece you're missing is that Holivia turbo-charged Harry's career and moved him up a level in terms of celebrity. If you're assessing the impact on his career, but only looking at the last six months, you'll miss entirely.

In terms of the questions you ask about Harry - I think it is a really interesting one. The idea you seem to be exploring is that by being too much of a blank slate has backfired and allowed negative narratives to rise up.

I think I'd question a little bit some of the timing. When it comes to 'queerbaiting' - I think you're suggesting that the people who are responding to Harry in that way used to think that there was more to him, and have become persuaded that there's not. I actually don't think that's what is driving the 'queerbaiting' discourse. I think it almost exclusively comes from people who have had a vague idea of Harry and are now really thinking about him in any sort of way for the first time when he's on the cover of Vogue in a dress. It's people who are annoyed by Harry who are justifying it - rather than people who are invested in him (one of the many reasons why 'queerbaiting' is a terrible term and a terrible way of understanding the world).

More generally - I think it's possible that the last six months has had an impact on Harry's image, but it's way to soon to tell. It's certainly had an impact on the way he's talked about. The Guardian opened it's paragraph naming As it Was the fifth best song of 2022 'In some ways it’s been a hard year to be Harry'. But the Guardian is not the world - and I don't think there's any way of telling if it's made a difference to either the fans or casual listeners, which is what's important to his career. We may get a sign if ticket sales are soft, but I suspect we won't have any way of knowing until we see how his next major project is received.

[afteriwake]

For your 25th -- Pondlock, bright red, 11

I went back to an old Pondlock series for this fic, "A Past Love." The prompt for this one was "She needed to proofread her work," and the 30 Day Writing Challenge prompt was "18. Use the title of the last song you've listened to," which happened to be "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift. Enjoy!

Blank Space - Amy has insomnia before John and Molly's wedding and attempts to write, but finds she's blocked until Sherlock makes a suggestion.

READ @ AO3 | SERIES PAGE

Amy stared at the word document page open on her laptop. It was a blank space surrounded by the margins and the commands that the program used, because she was blocked. As a child she had made up stories about the Doctor and the adventures they would have had; now, as an adult, she had the urge to write something but nothing came. She couldn’t sleep after her trip with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Molly, and she’d gone to her laptop to toy with some ideas she’d had based on her adventures with the Doctor and the stories she’d made up as a child.

But her mind was drawing a blank at the words.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and pushing her glasses up. It was easy to write travel stuff that went with her modeling. Writing her speech for John and Molly’s wedding had been a snap. Writing lyrics to some of the compositions Sherlock had shared with her of his? Piece of cake. But trying to actually write was like dipping a sieve into her brain and watching all the good ideas run right back in.

Two hands on her shoulders told her she wasn’t alone anymore and she looked up to see Sherlock looking down at her. “Insomnia?” he asked.

“A bit. I just...traveling with the Doctor again inspired me, but I can’t get the words out. I know I was writing in the past, but now I just...can’t.”

“Maybe I can help,” Sherlock said. “Bring your laptop to the sitting room.”

Amy raised an eyebrow but did as he said, following the man she loved now to see what he could do. She took a few minutes to really study him; that was one thing John didn’t do in his blog entries was to really describe the way he looked, the way he moved with a feline grace, the way he held himself.

“You’re thinking about me the way a writer would,” he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“I am,” she admitted with a soft smile. “Just thinking about how John never describes you in his blog posts. But I could do it.”

“Then do it,” he said, gesturing to her favorite seat in the sitting room. “I’ll go make us some coffee because I’m awake too. I’m too nervous that something will go wrong with the wedding to sleep.”

“We’ll be no good to John and Molly if we’re zombies.”

“We just need to stand by their sides and make it through the reception. After that, we can crash.” He waited for her to sit before he went into the kitchen. “Write about me, and then try and write how you would describe the Doctor.”

“Which incarnation?”

“Whichever one you feel inclined to,” he said, filling the coffee pot up with water. “You aren’t used to this new incarnation, so I’d imagine you’ll have an easier time with the earlier one.”

She nodded and he continued to make coffee as she typed out first a description of Sherlock and after three full paragraphs moved onto the Doctor. Just picturing the mop haired older version made it easier, and by the time Sherlock brought her a cup of coffee sweetened to her taste she’s already moved on from descriptions to an actual story. He read over her shoulder for a moment, not interrupting her, and then kissed the top of her head and moved to his seat, picking up an old case file and looking it over. As the sun rose, she realized she had an entire chapter of a story loosely based on her childhood done. She needed to proofread her work soon, but having that much written was an accomplishment. Her fingers were flying over the keyboard, the blurred bright red shapes of her painted nails clicking on each key...she hadn’t felt this inspired in a long time.

Maybe something good would come out of it...

[captainsimagines]

dreaming in june || five

Summary: At the request of an old friend who now happens to be the new Captain America, you move to a place that only vaguely feels peaceful, to secretly protect his best friend. There you meet Bucky Barnes, your next door neighbor, who has also lived countless lives, seen a lot of things, and lost the one he loved. You have more in common than you thought.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x (F) POC Enhanced Reader

Based on the Song(s): Heat Waves by Glass Animals and iann dior ; Coney Island by Taylor Swift and The National

Series / AO3 Link

(5/15)

Warnings: suicidal thoughts; angst; discussions of suicide; therapy session; strong language; plot twists!

Word Count: 4,500+

Author’s Note: hehehehehe xxMoni

~

“I’ve been wanting to try, too.”

~

      The two of you talk all night. 

About Steve, about Ari, about what decades and decades of history can do to a person. So many stories are shared—the happy, the heartbreaking, the painful. Granted, you don’t share the fact Sam asked you to look out for Bucky or that you’re enhanced. But everything else is spilled: Bucky now knows more about you than any other person this century, this planet. 

You don’t sleep. Bucky wants to know every detail about Ari and your people. You can skip describing Ari to him—the drawing does him complete justice. Steven Grant Rogers, Bucky’s one who got away, was the one who brought Ari back to life for you. You were starting to forget the shape of Ari’s eyes and that was Hell looming too close. You don’t forget faces. You don’t forget names. But the slight slant of his eyes and the way his prominent cheekbones made them look smaller… that was starting to become a little harder to conjure from memory. 

So you had put an ad out in the newspaper, completely anonymous. And this sixteen year old kid, with messy blond hair and bad knees, responded. His letter read: I would be honored to draw this requested portrait. And because this letter is private, and because I’m swallowing my pride, I want to let you know that I desperately need the money. 

You met Steve at Coney Island, where everyone was allowed at the time and wouldn’t question why the two of you were seated together, sitting at some bench in front of the ferris wheel. Of all your years on Earth, you had never ridden a ferris wheel. 

“Can you start with his facial shape? Bone structure, I mean,” Steve had asked, sitting criss-cross apple-sauced on the bench with a sketchbook in his lap. He was so young, so excited to make fifty dollars. You originally offered thirty but seeing Steve act so… natural about this? He didn’t accept the hundred extra you tried to slip in. 

Once he was done, Steve marveled at his own creation. “He reminds me of those Indian war heroes we read about in school.”

“He wasn’t—”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Native. I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “He was just Ari. He was the Chief’s son. He was my best friend.”

Steve didn’t question the past tense word usage. He didn’t dig deeper into your history or try to pry. He simply thanked you for sharing Ari with him and asked if you’d like to ride the ferris wheel. You declined. You hadn’t even looked at the drawing yet. You said your goodbyes, made it home, and turned the protective sheet over. 

It was the first and last time you looked at the drawing. Until tonight. 

And Bucky, feeling so fucking happy to finally speak to someone who understood time gained, time lost, and love stolen, is just happy he’s still discovering new things about Steve even after he’s been long gone. 

Now, at seven in the morning and nursing two massive coffees while walking the streets of Brooklyn, you and Bucky find a sort of comfort with each other that’s rare. He’s also tired of living, but Sam makes him want to live more. You’re tired of living, and are feeling as if there might be something new to live for. 

“I have to admit something to you. I’m a lot older than you think I am.”

Bucky didn’t exactly carbon-date you. When you mentioned Ari and where you came from, he didn’t think you could be older than him. No one is older than him. 

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t completely honest. But I didn’t lie.”

“That’s not something a former Russian assassin likes to hear.”

A laugh bubbles from your throat and escapes your lips before the hot coffee can pass through. The streets are practically empty; a hazy fog has started to settle on the sidewalk and the sun is creeping in behind the skyscrapers. The more you walk, the farther the two of you get from the apartment. “I died.”

Bucky stops mid-step, mouth parted around a silent gasp. He shakes his head, pauses, then shakes it again. It takes you a second to see he’s not directly beside you anymore. You walk a few steps back to him. 

“What do you mean ‘you died’?”

“I mean…” You fumble your fingertips around the warm cup. “I died in 1527.”

Bucky’s eyes grow three sizes. “What?” he sputters.

“Arrow through the heart. But I didn’t stay dead. I think I woke up a few hours later? Then I just…”

“Just what?”

You sigh, shrugging a shoulder. “Went back to sleep. And when I woke up again, I lost 73 years.”

It’s too much like his story. Too much. “You can’t die?”

“Trust me,” you whisper. “I’ve tried.”

You know when someone says something so goddamn powerful or astonishing your legs go a little weak and your heart pounds once, then it grows silent? Bucky feels his legs go numb, the steady vibration from all those pin-pricks clawing at the backs of his thighs. His heart beats once, startled, then everything is unnaturally silent in his chest. 

‘I’ve tried.’

Bucky, who wants to drag you into the tightest hug possible, selfishly thinks, “I’ve been wanting to try, too.”

“Are you okay right now?” Something in your chest melts from his question. He didn’t ask you when you tried, how you did it, or tried to persuade you not to do it again. He just wants to know if you’re okay right now.

You nod, “Yes, James. I’m okay right now.”

He looks down the street and takes a long sip from his coffee. “This works both ways. I don’t want you washing my hair and feeding me then throwing dirt into the hole I’m digging for myself if I’m not allowed to do the same for you.”

“You want to wash my hair and cook for me?”

“If it makes you smile, then yes. You make me smile when you do it for me.”

You weigh the pros and cons of telling Bucky even more about yourself. If you showed him your powers, then you’ll for sure amaze and bewilder him more than you want to. It’s probably best to ease him into it. Since he’s woken up and became Bucky Barnes again, things have just been shoved in his face and stolen with a rather literal snap of the finger. Easing him… that could work. 

“I will cook for you tonight,” you promise, looking down the same street as the crosswalk shines the miniature human figure. “If I go to work now, I’ll be home earlier. Are you doing anything today?”

Bucky doesn’t want to let you go just yet. He wants to walk by your side through every damn state in this country, talking about everything that slips from the tip of his tongue. He’s been keeping so much inside—he only tells Sam some of it as to not worry him. If Sam knew the true extent of Bucky’s boggled mind, Sam would either never leave his side or drag Bucky along everytime he went out. Plus, that’s what Bucky’s new therapist is for. 

His therapist. He has a session today.

“I have therapy today.” Bucky just said that out loud. Just like that. And he’s not flooded by shame. 

“Tell them hello for me.”

Tell them hello for me. That, that combination of easy words, pulls a massive smile to his face. “I will.”

~

     “New collections!” Barbara announces, earning a few shushes from unenthusiastic college students huddled in their tight study quarters. Barbara clamps her mouth shut and whispers it this time, flashing her hands toward the massive boxes the delivery driver is stacking. “New collections.”

“Jeremy isn’t coming in today,” you say, grunting as you pick up the box on the very top of the pile. You place it on the opposite counter and find a pair of scissors to slice through the tape. “We’re going to need another set of hands to help unload all these before lunch.”

Barbara blows a raspberry, fixing her glasses from their slight tilt. “You might be right.”

You blow a similar raspberry and take off your jacket. It’s barely nine in the morning and already you’re tired. You didn’t get a wink of sleep, but it’s the sight of those boxes that’s pushing your eyeballs deeper into your skull. There’s no point in complaining further—these need to be sorted. The boxes are all labeled ‘Oxford University’. Seems like new textbooks and museum catalogs.

By ten, you and Barbara are stretching your backs when another truck drives up. You quickly run outside, holding your hands up. “Please, deliver it through the back. I can’t lug these downstairs again. Don’t do that to me.”

The delivery driver is barely detached from his seat when he registers your plea. His partner is still strapped into the passenger seat. He gives you a funny smile, lowers his clipboard, and bows his head. “Gotcha,” he says. “Making the delivery through the back, Pete.”

You fist bump the air. Rushing back in, you tell Barbara to meet you downstairs. The truck pulls up shortly after you reach the last steps. The two men quickly get to work. 

“This is my least favorite type of delivery,” Barbara mutters, her arms crossed over her chest as she watches the men unload. “Too much at one time.”

You chuckle, “I see your point.”

“Do you?” She flicks her glasses down as she turns to you. “You live for this stuff. I see you reading history textbooks all the time.”

“I read them to make sure the information is right. If it’s not, I don’t display them for the kids.”

“And how would you know?”

You bite your tongue. Because I just do. “I’m a historian, remember?”

“Still,” she shrugs, fixing her glasses again. “You can’t know everything.”

“No,” you say silently. “But I know enough.”

A loud grunt sounds from behind the truck. “You ladies need help opening these?” There’s a flirtatious grin on this man’s face. You feel your stomach flip, flattered. He leans a shoulder on the truck and winks. 

“Don’t you have other deliveries to make?” you challenge, cocking an eyebrow. 

His tongue rests gently on his incisors. He is cute. Blond hair carefully brushed to the right, freckles on his tough nose, pouty lips, and muscular build. His eyes are a calm hazel. His name tag reads Dylan.

“I do,” he says casually. “But I have no problem going at a slower pace.” He says this so smoothly that you’d be lying if you said your knees didn’t feel like jelly. 

How long has it been for you? Oh, that’s right. Nixon had been in office.

“Goddamn, Dylan,” his partner says, rounding the corner and huffing. “Stop flirting with all the clients.”

Um, ouch kid. You could have let me have this one, you think. Rolling your eyes, you turn to the intruder but freeze. 

What the fuck is Spider-Man doing driving around in a delivery truck?

“I’ve said it three times today,” Peter, or Pete, groans. “When you’re late, I’m late. Don’t do that to me, man.”

Barbara laughs loudly. She waves a hand in the air like Peter just said the funniest joke ever. Dylan just rolls his eyes and holds his hands feigning offense. They’re treating Peter… like Pete. You funnel the possible outburst of his name down to the depths of your stomach. 

“I’ll let you guys finish,” you interrupt, waving a tiny goodbye. You can vaguely hear Dylan grumbling a quick fuck you, dude to Peter. 

Barbara jokes the entire time as you resume cataloging and filing. But your mind isn’t on her. Your mind is on Peter. And Dylan. 

The first time you slept with someone after Ari, you had left in a hurry and promptly thrown up in an empty, dark alley. That was, maybe, around 1730? You waited one-hundred and thirty years since you woke up and it still wasn’t long enough. It took you five baths to wash the scent off you. A scent that wasn’t Ari’s. 

The second time, somewhere around 1780 China, you had met a prince while he was hiding in the village. It was Aladdin before Aladdin was a popular children’s story. Except this one was x-rated. At least with him, you didn’t feel that overwhelming cramp of betrayal. He was lovely, and he treated you lovely. You have him to thank for helping you regain your body autonomy, and in turn your sexuality. 

After that, you didn’t let it scare you anymore. But you didn’t do it often. If the person gave you the feeling, then you indulged. There was no harm in it. 

But you’ve been celibate for fifty years so you’re kind of cursing Peter Parker right now.

~

      “I got new chocolates. My kid absolutely loves these.”

Bucky glances at the jar full of Hershey’s Kisses and decides to take a handful. Chocolate has always been one of his guilty pleasures. “Thanks.”

His therapist, Berenice, smiles at him. She sits at her chair and opens her notepad to rest it on her thigh. He used to hate notepads. But after one of his first voluntary sessions with Berenice, she showed it to him. She had drawn little flowers and hearts all over the page. She wasn’t taking notes on him. And that made him sigh happily. Now, he notices she does take notes. However, they’re never critical or full of stupid, psycho-jargon. Just little notes here and there. Bucky misses Steve. Sam is very helpful. Ivy? That’s a new one. French fries.

The casualness of it all is what settles his nerves. 

“So,” Berenice starts. “What do you want to talk about today?”

Bucky shrugs, looking up from his handful of Kisses at her. His face pulls down slightly. 

“You know, I started this new show. Sense8, on Netflix. It’s amazing.”

“Oh?” Bucky tilts his head. “What’s it about?”

“Oh, gosh,” Berenice blows air from her mouth. “Eight people who were all born at the exact second, finding out years later that they all share one mind. They share each other’s languages, skills, visions, dreams, urges. It’s amazing. And the acting!”

Bucky smiles wide. He likes when Berenice shares snippets from her own life. It makes him feel like he’s having a regular conversation. He knows therapists aren’t supposed to divulge too much or make the session about themselves, but he’s noticed (and of course, Berenice has too) that he always feels comfortable once he knows something about the other person. Like he isn’t the only one revealing his secrets. Thus, they’re both equal human beings. 

“I’ll watch it,” Bucky declares. And he will. It sounds interesting. 

“I should warn you, though,” Berenice frowns. “It deals a lot with… Uh. Mind control.”

“Then why did you suggest it?” Bucky laughs. He opens one of the Kisses. 

“I’m so sorry,” Berenice quickly apologizes. “I was just focused on the people part of the show.”

Bucky laughs again. It’s funny seeing her all flustered. He can joke about these things now. He’s been having a good day. He can joke about these things now. “It’s okay. Maybe I can watch it when someone else is around.”

Berenice looks as if she’s going to apologize again. She’s turning all red. “I like the Korean representation. Makes me feel important.”

Bucky finally eats the chocolate. His tongue is thankful. “Any representation for me?”

Berenice dips her head and blinks. “White representation? What do you think?”

“No, no,” Bucky chuckles, moving the chocolate from the left side of his tongue to his right. “Jewish.”

Berenice stills, then clicks her pen. She practically beams. “I didn’t know that about you!”

“Eh,” Bucky shrugs.

“No, not ‘eh’. Thank you for sharing that with me, Bucky.” He likes her calling him Bucky. His old therapist called him James, even when he asked her to stop. He only likes being called James when it comes from the right person. “I don’t remember if there’s Jewish representation. I’ll let you know.”

Shortcake.

“The only person I let call me James is Hyacinth.”

“Oh, it’s Hyacinth today? Last time it was Daisy and Ivy.”

“She likes plants.”

“I bet,” Berenice grins. She quickly scribbles the new nickname in her notepad. “Do you like when she says it?”

He does. He really does. “She has a light accent. So it doesn’t sound so bold like when everyone else says it. I like her accent. When she says it, it doesn’t sound like when my handlers would call me that. It’s like she’s giving me a brand new name.”

Berenice nods in understanding. “As long as you’re comfortable. What did she cook for you today?”

Bucky stomach twists in a pleasurable knot. “We actually stayed up all night and got breakfast in the morning.”

“Oh,” Berenice blushes. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

Bucky stills as he unwraps his second Kiss. “Um. We. Um. We didn’t…”

Berenice just stares, lifting one of her small eyebrows. She’s such a little woman, but the power of that eyebrow rivals the biggest tyrants. 

“We didn’t,” Bucky insists. The chocolate stains his fingers. 

“Okay,” Berenice says. “I believe you.”

“Thank you,” he breathes. He re-wraps the chocolate and shoves the handful into his sweater pocket. 

“Would you like to tell me what you two talked about?”

No. That’s for him only. “No, thank you. She says hello, by the way.”

“Hello, back.” Berenice writes something down then cracks some of her knuckles. “I want to swing back to you being Jewish for a second. Is that alright?”

He nods. Berenice continues, “Has your faith been affected after all this time? I understand you fought in the Second World War, so it was… somewhat personal.”

“A lot personal,” he mumbles. 

“Yes.” Her lips turn down. “Anything you want to share. I’m all ears.” That could mean anything. How does that make you feel? How did the war affect you? Does it still affect you?

“I haven’t believed in God for a long time,” Bucky admits, looking down at his lap. He touches the pads of his thumbs together. “I remember believing in him when Steve rescued me and the boys. Don’t really know when I stopped.”

And that’s true. He wholeheartedly believed Steve would rescue him from Hell after he fell from that train, also. When Steve didn’t come, he lost faith a little more each day. Then one day, it just… stopped. 

“But you still consider yourself to be Jewish?”

“Yes.”

“With your trauma, it’s completely understandable why you would feel abandoned by God. In fact, I believe you were abandoned by your country. We’ve discussed how the betrayal you felt by Steve not rescuing you was valid.” Bucky nods. “We’ve discussed the continual betrayal by your country by forcing you to attend court-ordered therapy and making you say sorry for things that were never in your control.” Bucky lips tremble. “We’ve discussed how all your feelings are valid. Not believing in God but still wanting to hold onto some of your faith is valid.”

“You think so?”

“We all have things that keep us sane. If religion does it for you, grasp it. If the simple, therapeutic thought about the possibility of an afterlife does it for you, grasp it. If the idea of a peaceful end with nothing on the other side does it for you, grasp it. There’s no deadline to this, Bucky. You’ll know when you know.”

He’ll know when he knows. 

~

     “The sun is set, my back is breaking, and I am absolutely done.” Barbara slams the final textbook in her pile into the shelves. She runs a fast hand through her hair and waves goodbye to you, huffing and puffing up the stairs. You giggle under your breath, still working through your pile. 

Fuck, you think. I told James I would be home earlier. You pull your phone from your pocket and look at the time. Seven. Fuck.

“Anyone back here?” The voice makes you jump. You’re the only one down in the archives. You brace yourself, emptying your hands. 

“Can I help you?”

A head pokes around the side of the aisle you’re in. Not just any head—Peter Parker’s head.

“Hi,” he stumbles, running a nervous hand behind his neck. “Sorry to creep you out. We forgot to drop off some boxes and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay.” You guide him out of the aisle and point at the few boxes left. “You can leave them here with the others.”

He nods. You get back to work, shelving the last couple books in your pile, before you notice that Peter is lugging in two boxes at once. Dylan isn’t here. 

You decide not to comment on it. He obviously thinks you’re not paying attention. 

There’s a picture on one of the textbooks. Mesoamerican Art and Artistry. It’s a jade bracelet. It’s shown as an artifact. It’s displayed as an archaeological find. It’s displayed as ancient art. 

“Hey, hey. Stay with me. Stay with me.” Did you fall over? There are hands lightly slapping your cheeks and a worried voice ringing above you. He sounds too worried. Maybe you should open your eyes. He’s hazy. 

“Hey, hi. You’re back. Stay with me,” Peter repeats, helping you sit up. You groan and rub your cheek. You face-planted. How fucking embarrassing. Your cheek begins to swell. 

“I’m okay,” you reassure him, pushing him away. He doesn’t budge. He helps you sit up higher. 

“You just fainted. Are you anemic? Diabetic? I don’t see a bracelet. Is this normal?”

His questions hurt your head. Why did you faint? Have you ever fainted before? You know you have but recently? Your eyes travel across the floor to the book that fell with you. 

The bracelet. It’s Ari’s bracelet. On display like some forgotten piece of history, without its story. Ari.

Your eyes water unexpectedly, but you swallow them down. Your throat clenches on itself, but you force yourself to reassure Peter. “I just got distracted by this.” You point at the book. He doesn’t ask. He’s confused, but he doesn’t ask.  

“Do you need me to call someone? Do you live close by?”

“Peter, it’s fine. I’ll pick up where I left off tomorrow and just take a cab home.”

Sweet silence. Your head is banging. You just want to get home and make some dinner for Bucky. Sweet Bucky. 

“How do you know my name?”

What? 

“What do you mean? You’re Peter Parker. Everybody knows you.”

Peter takes his hands away from your shoulders, cautious. “No, they don’t. I know they don’t. How do you know my name?”

If your eyebrows furrowed any further, they would connect. Are you sure you’re the one who fell and hit their head?

“Peter Parker. Spider-Man. The Avengers. It’s okay, I live next door to Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. So, I’m not some crazy fan.”

Peter inhales a shaky breath, his cheeks going red. His eyes water and before he can control himself, a few tears escape his waterline. Shit. What did you do?

“I’m sorry,” you stutter. “What did I do?”

Peter runs a hand through his hair. His shoulders crumble. He can’t seem to hold himself up anymore. He falls to his knees next to you and stares with a slow growing smile. “You know me.”

“I know you.”

The first sob bursts from his chest. “You know me.” Another sob. “How do you know me?”

“I—” you try, but you really don’t know what to say. You have no idea what he means by that. 

“I’m Peter Parker. Tony Stark made me an Avenger. My best friends are Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones. I had an uncle. His name was Ben. I had an aunt. Her name was May. You know me.”

You search his teary eyes for answers. “I do.”

His breath falters and his face falls. Peter stands. “I have to go. I need to see someone. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod. He steps away, eyes never leaving you. He covers his mouth as another sob tries to escape, but this time, he also hides a massive smile. 

~

     “I was just about to knock on your door, Hyacinth.”

You absolutely love his nicknames. 

You twirl on the stairs and look down, finding Bucky Barnes perched at the bottom. It looks like he just entered the building right behind you. 

“Guess we’re both late, huh?”

Bucky smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry. After my session, I visited Barton. He’s in town and wanted to see how I was doing.” He stops abruptly and tilts your chin o him. The feel of his hand on your face makes you melt. “What happened to your eye?”

You wave a hand through the air. His eyebrows turn down and his eyes go impossibly sadder. You’ve seen Bucky sad, depressed. Right now, he’s devastated. 

“We had a delivery today and I tripped and fell over the mountain of boxes,” you lie, laughing to cover your nerves. You start walking up, feeling Bucky catch up. “Work was… a lot.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

The sudden realization that you can finally talk to someone about this hits you, a wonderful case of whiplash that causes your heart to lurch from your chest. “Yes.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“I was thinking of making fettuccine alfr—”

You can feel it before you open the door. So can Bucky. He moves to enter your apartment first, shielding you behind him as his face contorts into that famous angry scowl. You’ve had a long day. Every emotion a human can feel is currently at the very ends of every hair on your body, at the tail ends of every single nerve ending, bursting brilliantly at your temples. Now, you’re angry.

Bucky is still shielding you.

No. Sam made you promise to protect him and if he enters first, you’re breaking that promise. 

Ari shouldn’t have come back for you.

Your people shouldn’t have come back for you. 

No one should have protected you. 

But you’ll be goddamned if you don’t protect Bucky Barnes. 

Before he can step inside, you push him out of the way and whip your hand out, summoning the plants on the left side of your apartment to stem out across the floor. As quickly as you commanded them, you do the same with the plants on the right. Ivy’s, and hyacinths, and violets, and lavenders reach the intruder at great speed, curling around their ankles and wrists, slamming them against the wall. The force causes them to grunt painfully. Vines curl around their torso and tighten, cracking the paint on the wall and snapping at awkward angles. 

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything. When you mentioned that you’re over five hundred years old, he didn’t think you had this power inside you. He honestly believed you were immortal, like those elves he read about in The Hobbit. But this… This is something else. 

The breath catches in your throat. You step closer to the intruder as he struggles against your makeshift chains, all vocabulary strained and heart pumping overtime. You can’t believe your eyes. 

“As I live and breathe,” Druig pauses, a shaky breath stumbling from his lips. He stares directly at you with passionate astonishment. It really is him. “Princess.”

~

Taglist: @natbarnes1917 @cloudyfeel @howlermonkey69 @wintersgirl1917 @aquariusbarnes @fandoms-writings @shirukitsune @goldylions @real-jane @mannien @sentimental-for-maneskin @dezthegeek​ @cutelittletwistedhorror @gabewerk

(I sent you a private message if Tumblr didn’t let me tag you.)

[desiredmalfoy]

Champagne Problems (G.W. x Reader)

House: Slytherin 

Universe: Not Canon (I think by now its safe to say I don’t like to follow canon much in my writing )

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader 

TW: Talks about blood purity. Controlling Parents

Word Count: 3.5 K

Get ready for some angst! Based loosely on Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift because I got inspiration for it while listening to this song. It turned out way longer then I expected. Sorry if there is any mistakes, I haven’t fully edited it. Enjoy!

Note: I aged up Draco, Pansy & Blaise to be the same age as the reader and George.

(The picture above was made by me. I tried to make the handwriting seem a bit messy on purpose) Plus George would be the one to draw doodles on a note.)

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go

Growing up in a rich pure blood family, (y/n) knew what was always expected of her. She was to know her place at all times. Whether that meant knowing she was better then half-bloods and muggle-borns. You are to never be seen with their kind darling her mother would tell her since she was very little. She was also raised to not go against her parents wishes. Sit straight and make sure you always look your best her mother had ingrained in her brain. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had fretted over her looks and manners. If you want a good husband you must be your best darling. 

She was to only be friends with the children of other pure-blood families. Make strategic friendship and make sure that she kept those who benefited her the most close. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy surprisingly had become close friends of hers. They aren’t a group of friends who share their deepest secrets but they brought comfort to each other. They knew what the other was going through as they were all basically destined for the same fate. To keep their pure-blood lineage strong. 

Her future was set in stone before she could even talk. She was to marry someone of her same blood status and continue their bloodline. She was never given the option to choose who she wanted to love. She was expected to give up her life. And that’s exactly what she did as she gave up on the only man she’s loved. George Weasley. 

She had met George at Hogwarts back when they were both students. He was in the same year as her. She had heard of him, I mean who had not with the way him and Fred were infamous with their prank pulling. Life was cruel at times and she wondered if she was being punished in a way when she fell for him.

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers. You're not sure which is worse

She shared a dorm with Pansy for her final year. They had a very complicated friendship. They cared about each other and they would often share their thoughts with each other. Pansy’s parents expected the same out of her. It was nice to have another person who understood what she was going through. Although she knew to never share her deepest secrets with Pansy, she was an opportunist who would use anything against her in the end. Her and Pansy often spoke on who they thought their parents were thinking of marrying them off to. Being a part of the sacred 28 meant that there was a decent sized list of options of who they’d be married off to. It was such a twisted conversation for two young girls to be having. Childhood and lives continuously being controlled by others. 

“I wouldn’t mind Adrian Pucey”, Pansy said from her desk as she continued to write her DADA homework. “Or even Draco or Blaise.”

“Really?” (Y/N) responded all the way from her bed. She was looking for her shoes as she was about to go out for one of her nightly walks around the school. 

“Yeah. I heard he’s still single.”

“What about you”, Pansy questioned with an eyebrow raise as she dropped her quill and turned to face (y/n). 

“Not Marcus Flint that's for sure. Remember how creepy he was during the Yule Ball last year”, (y/n) laughed with an eye roll. 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t stop trying to touch your waist.”

“Anyway, enough about Flint. I’m going to go for my nightly walk. Do you want to go Pansy?”

“Nope. I have to finish this and I still have a bit to finish before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll be back later.”

That one cold October night changed her life for the better. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. This was her last and final year here before she was to return home and do what was expected of her. The days dwindled until she completely lost her freedom. At least here she had some control over her life. She on one of her nightly walks in an attempt to clear her mind when he had bumped into her. She didn’t fear being caught by anyone, her last name alone let her get away with many things. Plus Draco was the Head Boy and wouldn’t get her in trouble. Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t notice a certain ginger running down the hallway. Probably from another prank. Not looking where he was going he knocked straight into (y/n) causing her to stumble back and surely hit the floor hard. But his strong hold prevented her from falling onto the stone ground. Time seemed to freeze as she felt his touch electrify her entire body. (Y/N) stared into his brown eyes as neither said a word to each other. This was the first time they had even crossed paths with each other.

“I’m so sorry love”, he spoke as he helped her stand up straight and let go of her waist. 

“It’s quite alright”, she answered softly. “Just be careful next time.”

“Of course.”

Silence followed for a couple of seconds before he spoke up again. His face showing he was deep in thought.

“You’re not going to run and tell your friend Malfoy that you’ve caught me”, he questioned her. 

“Should I be informing Draco of something you did?”

“No. But I thought you’d be running off now to let him know. After all, you are his friend.”

“No, why would I go and let him know that? It’s not my job to patrol at night.”

A smile formed on his face as he looked at you. His smile made you weak and you didn’t even know why.

From there on a secret friendship blossomed with the red headed boy. (Y/N) wasn’t able to see him in public because word was sure to get your parents. Plus her friends aren’t exactly the nicest people to the Weasleys. Constantly looking down on them and their financial status. Last thing she needed was her mother writing (y/n) about being seen with a “blood traitor”. Merlin, she hated that word. Her relationship with him started slow as a friendship first. Fred was very skeptical of (y/n) in the beginning and it took a lot for him to trust her. Fred knew his brother had fallen for her and he wanted to do nothing more than protect his heart. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for that. Although she was never truly cruel like the rest of her friends, their reputation was attached to her.  

Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing

He wasn’t able to ask (y/n) to be his date for the Yule Ball, it was too much of a risk. Instead he watched from afar as she danced the night away with a boy from Durmstang. As (y/n) danced with him all she was wishing was that it was George that was holding her tonight. 

That night after the dance she sneaked with George to the room of requirements where the room had become the same winter wonderland as earlier in the evening. This time though, she was able to dance with the one person she truly wanted to hold her in their arms. 

“I really like you (y/n)”, George spoke as they swayed to the music.

“I like you too George.”

“Do you want  to be my girlfriend? I know it will have to be in secret but I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Of course”, she said smiling up at him. With that, she brought his face down to her level and placed a long awaited kiss on his lips. It was one of hunger and need. A need for him to be closer to her. 

Months passed where she would sneak around and have dates with George. With the help of Fred, the two were able to see each other often. It was hard keeping it a secret as you wanted nothing more than to show the world he was her boyfriend.  But (y/n) knew she couldn’t do that. They would send each other longing looks throughout the day waiting to be able to see each other again. He had once found a picture of her inside her school bag. It had fallen from one of her photo albums she had placed in her bag. He told her he was going to keep that picture in his wallet so that he would always have her near. 

Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems

One Saturday while her friends were off to Hogsmeade, she had decided to stay back and spend time with George. While sitting in the room of requirements like she always did with her boyfriend she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter she had received from her mother. The one week spring holiday that the school offered was coming up and her mom expected her to be back home. She couldn’t even stay back and spend it with her boyfriend. She was expected to go home and attend an upcoming ball the Pucey family was organizing. 

Lost in her own mind, (y/n) tried to listen to George. George spoke about wanting to start his own shop with Fred. (Y/N) placed her head on his chest as he continued to speak about what their plans would be after graduation. She played with his hands as he continued on about all the products they would have and how it would be such a great shop. She wishes she could freeze time for a while more.

Spring holiday had come quickly and before (y/n) knew it she was back home and attending countless fancy balls and dinner parties with her parents. As the oldest of her siblings, (y/n) had spent her life at countless balls and dinners with her parents as soon as she turned fifteen. Each and every event they would talk to others looking for the perfect husband for their daughter. It wasn’t until one night after a ball that her parents had informed her that they had found the perfect husband for her. She looked at them with a bit of hesitation as she waited for them to drop who she was supposed to be marrying. 

“Draco Malfoy”, your mother spoke with great excitement in her voice. Mother must be ecstatic about this. 

“Draco Malfoy?” She can start to feel her mouth become dry. 

“Yes, you know that the Malfoy’s are a good family to be marrying into darling. Your life is set”, (y/n)’s mother said as she stroked her hair. “The Flint family also inquired about you marrying their son but they don’t quite have the same status as the Malfoy’s.”

At least it’s not Marcus Flint...

“I know mother.”

“We’ll be having dinner with the Malfoy’s tomorrow night so you two can talk more.”

“Of course father”, (y/n) responded obediently. Your expression never faltering in front of your parents. Although inside you were panicking. What about George?  “I’m familiar with Draco since we are in the same house and have the same friend group.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever darling”, your mother whispered to you as she hugged you tightly. Too bad the man you want at the end of the aisle won’t be there.

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was quite uneventful other than the talk of the upcoming wedding after the both of you had left Hogwarts. Narcissa continuously complimented her on her beauty and grace. She hugged (y/n) when they entered Malfoy Manor and whispered into her ear, “We couldn’t have picked a better young lady to carry on our name.” She felt like she was about to be sick. (Y/N) did what she was taught to do, smile when appropriate and be as charming as ever. She knew she was nothing more than an object with no feeling to them. 

“Draco darling”, Narcissa spoke once they had finished dinner. “We have some things to discuss, why don’t you show (y/n) around the garden?”

“Of course mother”, Draco responded as he stood up and walked over (y/n). He helped her stand from her chair with an extended hand. He offered (y/n) his elbow as he escorted her out of the dining room and out of the manor into the garden. 

“Are you okay with this”, Draco questioned her once they had found a bench in the stunning garden. 

“I don’t know how I feel” she responded truthfully. “But I am glad it’s you. You’ve been nothing but respectful to me.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“That we have never been given a chance. But I’m glad it’s you too.”

“Were you hoping for Pansy?”, she teased him as everyone knew of Pansy’s big crush on him back in fourth year. . 

He laughed genuinely at her joke. “Anyone but her.”

It became quiet after that as they both knew what they had to do. 

“We’ll be okay”, he whispered as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand.

“We will.”

Neither of you wanted this. Seeing as Draco himself was heads over heels for a muggle-born girl in your year. He had been secretly seeing her for a while. In the shadows with the same fears you had about your parents finding out. (Y/N) had actually caught him with her on one of (y/n)’s nightly walks on her way to see George. She had let him know that she wouldn’t run to his parents and let them know what she had seen. (Y/N) had sympathized with his situation and she’d be a hypocrite if she went and told on him. She felt his pain as (y/n) told him how she was in love with George. The both of you understood the pain you’d have to face as you returned to Hogwarts in the upcoming days. 

Both of you cried that night knowing what you had to do. Neither of you had a way out. You both were just pawns in your parents games.

Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it

(Y/N) had made it back to school after the short school holiday. The end of the school year was fast approaching and exams loomed near. She avoided George at first, trying to live a few more days of bliss where she was still happy with him. But that didn’t last long, he had eventually found her after their shared class had ended. He secretly slipped a small paper in her hand. 

“Meet me in the Room of Requirements Tonight after curfew. Love George xx”

(Y/N) was dreading this meeting with him because she knew her time with him was ending. The next time she saw George he had seemed very nervous. He was pacing in the room and kept looking at the ground. He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her presence. 

“What’s wrong”, she questioned him as he suddenly lifted his head up.

“Darling I have something important to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how we’re almost graduating? I want you to come with me. I need you by my side.”

“What”, you breathed out as your eyes became wide. 

“I want you by my side” he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Inside it sat a beautiful ring with a red stone in the center of it. 

“George”, she gasped as tears welled in her eyes. She’s crying because she knows she’ll never have the life she wants. It’s like fate was taunting her.

“I can’t do this George.”

“Please (y/n) come with me”, George pleaded with her. 

“You know I can’t Georgie”, (y/n) whispered as she wiped the tears pouring down her cheeks. 

“I know I can’t give you the same you’re used to but I promise I love you!”

“I can’t go with you because I never loved you”, she said suddenly as her expression became stoic. It’s better to have him hate her then love her. It would help ease her pain.

“What”, he breathed out as he stared at her bewildered with her recent confession. He placed the box with the only ring she’s ever wanted back in his pocket. 

“I never loved you”, (y/n) repeated.

“What about every moment we shared (y/n)! You can’t fake that!”

“Please! You were nothing but a game George. You were nothing more than my entertainment for a while. I’d never thought we’d ever get this far”

“Look at me right now and tell me I never meant anything to you (y/n)”, George whimpered as cupped your cheeks. His eyes pleaded with yours to let this be nothing more than a cruel joke of yours. 

You roughly got out of his hold but not before looking right at him. “I could never love someone like you.”

“I could never love a Weasley. Especially not a blood traitor.”

His expression changed from hurt to anger in seconds. As he looked at you with pure disgust. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different from those other pure-bloods.” 

He opened the wallet in his pocket and ripped out her picture. Along with her heart. The picture fell slowly to the ground. She watched it as it floated to the floor.

“Goodbye. Hope you have a good life (y/l/n). I hope you can find happiness in your bitter existence.”

“Because only someone with such hatred in their heart plays with the feelings of others.”

As he exited the room, (y/n) broke down in tears. This isn’t the life she wanted. She hated that she was destined for this. She would do anything for another life. She wanted to have the strength to run up and tell him what she was going through. To ask him to save him from her future. But she couldn’t leave her siblings alone. If (y/n) walked out of her parents grasp, she’d be walking away from them too. She felt her chest starting to tighten and her breaths getting shorter and shorter. 

You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches

The days seemed to go by with no color in her life. This week has been pouring rain nonstop. The mood of the sky clearly matches her current situation. Pansy had noticed her slight shift in mood but she blamed her emotional turmoil on the nerves of her upcoming graduation. She seemed to believe her or simply just dropped it as not trying to intrude anymore. She watched as he walked the halls of the school with sadness clearly on his face. He’d look her way every once in a while. Some days it was also pure anger when he looked her way.  She had attempted to stay clear of him and Fred. After their shared classes she always left first or walked different routes to her next destination. 

“You know you have some nerve”, she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and came face to face with Fred Weasley. His face red with anger.

“What do you want”, she responded to him as she turned to face him. 

“You took his heart and you bloody broke it”, Fred responded angrily. “He loved you. He probably still does.”

“That’s no longer my problem”, (y/n) responded calmly. All these years of having to mask her true feelings were being used currently. 

“You see, I don’t understand how this was a game to you! You don’t just fake all that!”

“You’ll never understand”, she said in a monotonous manner. 

“Is everything alright here”, Draco questioned as he walked up to them. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. 

“Oh I see now”, Fred sneered as he looked down at her intertwined hand with Draco’s. “It was some twisted game between you two.”

“Look you don’t talk to her like that”, Draco responded as he stepped in front of you. Fully blocking Fred from your view.

“I’d hit you right now but I’m sure you’d get your daddy to fight your battles.” Fred said as he shoulder checked Draco on his way out. He didn’t bother to turn back around and look at you. 

“Don’t listen to him”, Draco said as embraced her. 

But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

She knew that George wouldn’t have a problem finding someone else. Someone who would love him like he truly deserved. Someone who could help piece back together what she had broken. He would find some who truly deserved him. Because in her opinion, she had never deserved George Weasley. She could never deserve someone like him.

Challenge to self: write angst with a happy ending??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

Tag List: @keepsmilingandstayhappy​

[kissme-hs]

Tolerate it {c.e}

Hey lovelies! Here’s a late night one shot based on the following request! I’m sorry I’ve not been active but I’ll try to be on writing as much as I can now! Hope y’all enjoy and lemme know what you think of it :) Also I’m making a taglist so let me know if you want to be added on it.

Anonymous asked: Can you write a fic with Chris Evans about tolerate it by Taylor Swift? Thanks love

Pairings: Fem! Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: angst.

Someone said once, ‘to fall in love in awfully simple, but to fall out of love is simply awful’.  The words never made sense to you until now, when you sat alone on the day which marks another year spent together. Your heart burned with the deep whole he cut in it. Every passing day you would convince yourself that maybe it’s just a phase where you both need space and time but now that you gave him all the isolation, he yelled for without saying a word, he decides to live in it.

You gasped for air taking a seat on the navy-blue couch. The walls of the house that you once decorated with love and made it home now suffocating you, the same walls choking you with the shared memories, happy memories you created with Chris.

The meal you prepared spending the whole day on your feet and little decorations which ached you back but you didn’t complain now gone cold, disgustingly cold. The candles blown off by the shivering chilly wind that oozed its way through the tiny way you gave it when you opened the wooden frame to breathe.

But the food wasn’t the only thing that was cold. Your given-up body now nestled on the couch defeated with your legs scrunched to your chest as you laid your head on the soft plushy material, letting the throbbing ache in your head and heart rest. Staring into the oblivion of dark night, you felt warm tears roll down your cold cheek, probably messing up the mascara and make up that you took your time with to doll up for the man whom you loved entirely and in the back of your head you hoped he did the same.

You lost him, alas, after trying your best you couldn’t save the sinking boat.

It was the little things in the beginning that started giving you the unfamiliar feeling of your heart dropping in the pit of your belly and you hated how it made you tremble and ever since you started living in fear that maybe one day you won’t be able to stop him. One day you will lose him, one day he won’t come home to you and that’d be it. One day you’ll be seeing him for the last time, one day you’ll kiss him for the last time, one day your love would mean nothing to him.

A person can stay strong only for a certain time, everything has a breaking point. And this was yours. The fireplace which lighten your world on dark cold night now mourned with your pain, it felt as if the wooden house saw this coming, it stopped feeling like home a long time ago. From the day he untangled his fingers from your laced hands, was the time he slipped away.

You both walked down the street wrapping up your after-dinner walk, with other hand he held dodger and his other was holding your warm hand. There was a comfortable silence, or that’s what you thought it was when he removed unwrapped his warmth stuffing it into his pocket. His legs paced up leaving you behind as if he knew you’d catch up, as if he wanted to leave you behind. But you didn’t, you couldn’t. That was when the cold started creeping up your body relation.

For how long could you draw you him portraits with his favorite colors, for how long could you do fancy shit for him only to go unnoticed. For how long could you wait by the door for him to come and hug you and tell you everything will be fine. But you still did. Every morning you’d wake up to an empty-cold bed, where was the man who’d refuse to leave the bed until you do because the sight of you, sleeping peacefully looking like an angel was the evermore beauty. Chris thought you wouldn’t notice his changes. You wouldn’t notice how he stopped eating with enthusiasm, or how he read with his head low to avoid your gaze or just come home late past your bedtime so he wouldn’t have to face you.

But you did, you noticed every slight difference and it hurt you, it hurt you so much that at a point you thought what would happen if you maybe, just maybe ran free, lose all the weight and lift yourself up? However, you still tried putting your footsteps back into his life. You polished your love for him, did everything in your will to bring the man back, the same Chris who couldn’t go an hour without kissing you, the same Chris whose arms craved your touch every night, the same Chris for whom you held his entire universe in those eyes of yours.

And the worst was, his assumption of his actions not affecting you. Where everyday you saw him slipping away through your fingers, he sat there thinking you were fine, just fine. What a shame, all these years of being together and yet he couldn’t understand the unsaid pain you bore.

A loud sniff brought you back to the reality of loneliness and growing pains. The memories were excruciating, no wonder why it made it hard for you to breath. Taking a deep inhale to calm the wild waves inside you, you unclenched your fist and the eyes teared up again with the words on that laid in his messy handwriting on scrunched piece of paper that rested upon your palm.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore”

But now, you realized sitting there in a house with haunting memories of your past, that your love which should’ve been celebrated, he just tolerated.

•

Taglist:

@sunflowercaptian

[unwritten-ravenclaw]

Rescue - George Weasley

Summary: George rescues you from a creepy crawly

A/N: Inspired by real events, dramatised to make this lengthy enough to post. Except instead of a cute guy it was my mum who rescued me and I played Taylor Swift to stop freaking out and sleep. so yeah.

Warnings: arachnophobia, descriptions of a spider, spider killing?

You had just had the most relaxing bubble bath after a long day on your feet. Dressing in your comfiest set of pyjamas, you grabbed the book you were currently enjoying and settled into the big comfy armchair your husband had so chivalrously brought up to the corner of the room. He had done so on the condition that you would sit and read when you couldn’t sleep instead of watching him while he slept, which he insisted was weird. You had agreed to this condition, but of course you couldn’t help glancing over the top of your book and taking a peek at him as he dozed. 

Despite the fact that it was a big house, you and George were usually in the same room. Most nights when he would sit in his study doing paperwork you would sit on the other side of the room and occupy yourself with this or that. But tonight you opted to be in the bedroom so that when you could no long keep your eyes open you could take two steps and fall into bed.

You weren’t sure how much reading you were going to be able to manage tonight; you were quite tired and you’d stayed in the bath so long that you had that heavy, waterlogged sort of feeling. You’d cracked your book open and read the same paragraph four times when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move near your feet. Your eyes flicked up to inspect it and instantly brought your feet up onto the chair as fast as if the floor was suddenly burning. 

It was a spider, a large brown one with thick, long legs. As soon as you had moved it had stopped dead in its tracks. Smaller spiders you could cope with, but this one was about three sizes up from those. Reaching for your pockets you realised you had none. You gazed around quickly before spotting your wand on the bedside table - on the far side of the bed from you.

You could feel your heart hammering, not the least bit emboldened by the inner voice telling you that this fear was irrational. Your thoughts were moving as fast and your nerves were pulsing throughout your body. If you put your feet down to retrieve your wand, or any other kind of defensive weapon, it would likely move, which was the last thing you wanted. On the other hand you could probably jump from the chair to the bed, but what if it still decided to move and climbed onto the bed with you via the duvet which was dangling on the floor? You sent up a silent promise that from this moment on you would never leave your side of the bed unmade again. 

You were staring at the spider intently so that if it did move you would see where it went, but the longer you looked at it the more creeped out you became. With a helpless whimper you hugged your knees tighter to your chest and deferred to the only sound plan you had.

George’s hand was cramping from all the documents he’d been filling out. He decided he’d take a break from writing and read through some of the contracts that were starting to pile up. Fred was never really one for contracts, quill poised to sign without having read the fine print, so George had taken up that responsibility. He just didn’t understand why they couldn't be straight to the point instead of drawing out terms with unnecessary flair and words that were not used in everyday language.

His eyes began to grow weary as they trekked through line after line, the words blurring together as his chin pressed heavily into the hand that was holding it up. He kept fighting it, every time his eyes fell shut he would pry them open and start again, but it was no use. He sleepily thought perhaps he should go to the kitchen for a snack to wake him up, remembering the sweet samples crammed into the back of the cupboard.

“George!”

George sat upright, suddenly more awake. For a moment he though he might have imagined it, but his imagination wasn’t that good. The distress in your voice made him panic. He stood up in a hurry, almost knocking the chair over. He raced upstairs, taking them two at a time, trying to keep his mind from horrible scenarios of what he might find when he reached you.

When he found you he saw nothing but his wife in her favourite chair. He scanned the room but found no evidence of anything amiss. He began to make his way over to you, but when he took a step into the room you squeaked. “What’s wrong?” You still didn’t look up so he followed your unwavering gaze and spotted the cause. “Oh, my love. You do know this is one of those run of the mill garden spiders, not an acroman-“

“Yes! George, please, if you love me just kill it!”

“I’ve left my wand downstairs, I’ll be right-“

“No! Don’t you leave me, George Weasley!”

“Alright, alright!” 

One of the spider’s legs moved and you flinched. You had been looking at it so long you were well into a case of heebie-jeebies. George reached for a slipper close to him and you looked up. 

“Not mine! Use one of yours!”

His eyes widened before replacing the slipper and grabbing one of the bigger pair. “For someone who desperately needs saving you sure have a lot of demands on how it should be done,” he was only joking, which he conveyed in his tone of voice, but you’d had such a long day, your nerves were frazzled and George noticed the signs that you were on the verge of tears. “It’s okay, darling. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I’ll get him now, okay?”

“Thank you,” you sobbed quietly. 

By now you were almost transfixed, and though George was here and was going to deal with it, though your eyes were burning with strain and you didn’t want to see the wretched thing for a second longer, you found you couldn’t look away, paranoid about the creature escaping and turning up elsewhere.

George raised the slipper and took two steps forward, the floor creaked under his weight and the spider scuttled about an inch across the floor before halting again, a few legs raised as if challenging George to attack. George’s eyes swiftly checked on you, your face was in a grimace but you had not moved an inch, although he thought he’d seen you shiver. He renewed his grip on the tattered slipper.

“I can’t watch,” he heard you say, but you only closed one eye and did not turn your face. 

George was at once endeared and sympathetic to you. He was only a few steps away and he wanted to reach for you and comfort you, but instead he focused on the task at hand. This time he would get it done and put you out of your misery.

The slipper cut swiftly through the air and delivered a convincing ‘thwack’. Finally he had been quicker than the creature. He was pretty certain it was dead, but he gave it another blow just for serenity’s sake. As the shoe hit the second time, the spider was thrown into the air in front of you and with cat-like reflexes you launched yourself onto George and he caught you awkwardly, dropping the makeshift weapon and instinctively taking a few steps backwards, so as not to topple over with the sheer force of your pounce. 

Your legs were clamped around his waist like you were holding on for dear life and George suppressed a chuckle. He brought a hand to caress your head soothingly, admitting to himself the warm glow in his chest at being, of sorts, your saviour. When your breathing settled and his knees could no longer bear it he set you down on the floor. You turned to see the carnage and winced. The critter had lost a few limbs and was crumpled up defeatedly. You would’ve felt sorry for it had it not just ruined the night that was meant to have been relaxing.

“All better?” George inquired softly.

Taking in a deep breath you replied, “Yes.” 

You were exhausted, yet wide awake, your body unsettled. George moved in your peripheral vision and you almost jumped, your heart picking up speed again as he pressed a kiss to your temple. When he released you, you’d made up your mind. 

“I’m sleeping downstairs tonight.”

“Wh-“ George looked between the dead spider and you. “Babe, it’s dead. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Determinedly you swiped your wand off the nightstand and headed for the door, grabbing George’s hand on the way. “You’re sleeping downstairs too.”

[got-svt]

the road not taken

summary: you live in la, he lives in seoul. you don’t think it’s ever going to work out, but he believes otherwise. especially when every year on the holidays, both of you rediscover that your hearts are still in chicago. aka the conversations that had you rethinking your relationship.   pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: angst, friends with benefits (but only on the holidays lmao — implied sex, so no actual smut), some fluff at the end kinda word count: 2637

part of my tales from the lakes series inspired by taylor swift’s ‘tis the damn season

___

Truth be told, despite the fact that you were neighbors and your parents were quite close with his, you didn’t know much about Johnny in the years you spent growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Sure, you caught glimpses of him from your bedroom practicing whatever song or dance routine he felt like he needed to improve on. More often than not, you’d find yourself laughing as he accidentally bumped into a shelf or slip and fall over on the floor. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t taken a peek out his window to watch you running lines, a script in you hand as you paced around the room, a smile creeping on his face as he watches you shake your head every time you forget a line. In a way, you both formed some sort of a relationship as you silently cheered the other on in whatever endeavor you put your minds to.

He wanted you to succeed just as much as you wanted him to succeed. 

But when he moved to Korea to pursue a career as an idol, and you to LA for acting, there were little to no opportunities to actually begin a proper conversation. 

It wasn’t until in December of 2017, when both of your parents decided to have a joint Christmas dinner in celebration of both their children coming home for the holidays for the first time in years. They thought it was time for you two to meet, having settled in your respective career paths. Maybe they also wanted to see how the two of you would get along, but they would never admit it even if you ask. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He told you once he entered your parents’ house and offering a hand for you to shake, “I’m Johnny.”

“Yn.” You replied, taking his hand in yours, “And, trust me, I know exactly who you are.”

He raised an eyebrow at your statement as he let go of your hand, you shivered at the immediate loss of contact, your hand immediately growing colder at the absence of his. 

“NCT?” You asked tentatively, testing the waters of what could possibly be an exciting new friendship.  

“Ah yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “I guess there’s no use in pretending I don’t know who you are either.”

It was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Hmmm?”

“I’ve seen pretty much every show you’ve ever been on.” Johnny clarified, but his tone suggested a bit of embarrassment on his part, “The other members don’t believe me when I tell them I practically grew up next to you.”

“I guess I could say the same.” You replied with a shrug, but you offered him a reassuring smile “Nobody really believes me when I tell them a Kpop star used to be my neighbor.” 

“Perhaps we need better friends then.” He joked, but your gaze was fixated on the way the curve of his lips moved with each word that left his mouth. Johnny had always been attractive, whether it be through your bedroom window or your computer screen. But now here he stood, in front of you, bare faced in black jeans and a gray sweatshirt and somehow he had never looked more alluring. 

Johnny noticed you watching him, but he never called you out on it. Maybe because he was too busy thinking about how soft your hand was when he shook it, imagining how it must feel running over his skin. Or how your hair seemed fall perfectly, framing your face in a way that was enticing him for reasons he couldn’t exactly figure out. 

“Care for a drink?” You asked, breaking the brief period of tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, leading him to the makeshift bar your parents had near the kitchen. 

He smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, “I thought you’d never ask.”

And maybe it was because of both of your parents deciding to turn in early and the three bottles of wine that was shared between the two of you that had you pinned against the wall of your childhood bedroom, quietly giggling into his lips as he went in for another kiss. He drunkenly mumbled words that you couldn’t quite understand, but he was telling you to keep quiet. You knew you should have stopped him the second planted his lips onto yours, and he knew he should’ve pulled away when you started taking off his shirt. Maybe then you wouldn’t have woken uncomfortably cuddled up on your twin-sized bed and sneaking him out of the house before your parents could wake up. 

But both of you enjoyed the way your bodies seemed to be made just for the other too much to stop, and thus, a tradition of sorts was formed. 

2018. 

One particular night the following year had you driving around the city, Johnny had one hand on the steering wheel while the other held yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. But it did everything but comfort you or himself. Since the previous year, you and Johnny grew much closer than either have you had anticipated. You thought it would all end after that first night or maybe when you flew back to LA, and him back to Seoul. But it had been seemingly impossible to move away from whatever relationship that began to form, as both of you sacrificed nights of well warranted sleep to call or text the other, soon enough both of you were in too deep to easily get out. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, taking note of how the streetlights perfectly illuminated his face. He had been unusually quiet and you were growing tired of the Christmas songs that had been blasting on every radio station for the past few hours. 

“It’s nothing.” He sighed as he turned to an unfamiliar street, you knew better than to believe that it was truly nothing. But you also knew him well enough to not to push it. 

“Where are we going then?”

Johnny replied with a shrug, continuing down the foreign path, he knew neither of you had been to this particular part of town but at that point he’d do anything to even remotely extend the time you spent together. 

“And if we get lost?” You asked, your voice almost challenging him to turn back, but he didn’t give in. 

“Then we get lost.” He replied without missing a single beat, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards to form a smile, “You know, the road not taken tend to be the most exciting.”

“Oh wow,” You let out a laugh, and Johnny feels his heart skip the slightest of beats, “and where did that immensely profound quote come from?”

“My brilliant mind.” He grinned, briefly turning to face you. 

Johnny wished he had a camera to capture the absolute spectacle that was you. How you stared out the window, at the unfamiliar road, eyes alive with a certain curiosity. Your finger drawing little stars on the car window, pouting when it doesn’t quite look the way you wanted it to. It was at that moment he knew, you were all he wanted. 

“What are we?” He asked, causing you to jump a little in your seat, Johnny had never brought up the nature of your relationship before. 

“Friends?” You said, at an attempt to offer him an answer, but even you sounded unsure at your response which made Johnny grow hopeful. 

“Yn, friends don’t kiss.” Johnny responded, grateful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t need you seeing right through his pretend confidence, “They sure as hell don’t sleep together”

“Sure, they do.” You joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, maybe even change the topic to something—anything— else, “I do it all the time.”

“Well, acting is different.” He let out a scoff, annoyed at the thought of you not taking the conversation seriously,  “You know what I meant.”

“I like where we are now. It’s easy.” You explained, wanting to make him understand where you were coming from, “Relationships are messy, given the industries we are in. There’s no pressure with this. With you and me.”

“But what if I wanted something more—”

“It’s never going to work.” You cut him off before he could even make his case, before he could ask you to be his. 

“Now, why do you say that?” There was a slight tremble in his voice, and you had never heard him sound so nervous, scared even. The feeling of guilt slowly crept up your system, but you shook it away before it even had the chance to fully settle in. 

“Time, distance, to begin with. Not to mention both of our very busy careers.” 

“Then I guess this is good enough for me.”

For now, he added in his head, determined to make you see otherwise. 

You smiled at him, glad to have the conversation over with and thinking that this would be the last time you’ll ever speak about it. 

2019.

Johnny wanted to prove you wrong, show you that both of you could in fact make it work. You just needed to try. Which came with more calls and texts than normal as you got to know each other more than you already did, flowers sent to you on your birthday, several little gifts every now and then, and even slowly introducing you to the other members of NCT. His efforts did not go unnoticed, but it definitely left you more confused. 

When both of you went home for the holidays that particular year, you knew something had changed. Johnny was more reserved than usual, and you would usually have to be the one to initiate sleeping together. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing this?” He asked, turning to face you, as you lied side-by-side on his childhood bed. 

“Doing what?” You asked, feigning confusion, preparing yourself for the inevitable conversation you had been dreading for the past few months.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His voice was calm, but it chilled you to the core. 

“What do you want me to say, Johnny?” You snapped, the tone in your voice letting him know how exasperated you were as you shut your eyes, “That I like you? That I want to be with you?”

“Don’t you?”

You let out a sigh, still keeping your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look at him, he’d know if you were lying. You didn’t know if you had it in you to lie. Instead, you focused on the sound of his breathing, steady and almost reassuring. You imagined the rise and fall of his bare chest, covered by the thick white blanket. 

Johnny knew to drop the subject when you didn’t even make an attempt to answer his question, he probably didn’t want to know the answer anyways. But Johnny knew he loved you, and part of him knew you loved him back. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let this little charade go on for as long as it did. You just needed time. And he was more than willing to give it to you. 

“A year.”

Your eyes opened at his words, your head turned to face him,  “What?”

“I’m giving you a year.”

You didn’t have to ask again. You knew exactly what he meant, what he wanted. He wanted an answer. 

“Is this an ultimatum?”

He takes your hands in his, “It’s me letting you know that I’m serious about wanting to be with you.”

“Johnny—”

He kisses the side of your head before you could even finish your sentence, an action so tender that it caused you to forget every single coherent thought of protest. 

“Hey, you don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it. Please?”

“I will.” 

And with those two words, you stood and gathered your clothes off the floor and put them back on. He gave you a small nod as you turned to leave his room, going back into the freezing cold and leaving the warmest bed you had ever known. 

2020.

Neither of you could come home to Chicago that year. 

And so you both had to settle for a reunion through a screen. You wished that circumstances were different, but at the same time you were grateful that you didn’t have to give him an answer in person. Mainly because you didn’t have one. 

When his face appeared on your computer screen, you couldn’t help the ache that crept up in your chest at the sight of him. 

“Hey, yn.” He greeted with a smile.

You missed him.

After the exchange of pleasantries and a bit of small talk on both ends, Johnny wasted no time in getting to the purpose of your call, “I believe you owe me something.” 

“Johnny—“

“Before you say anything, I want you to know that for me, it’s always been you. After all this time, even with all the distance between us.”

Johnny moved his face closer to the camera, as if that would somehow help his point come across more genuinely. You had to stop your hand from reaching out to try and wipe the single tear that fell on his cheek.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask.” He said, trying to keep his voice from faltering too much, “After this, I won’t try to push it anymore. But I want you to tell me the truth. Don’t you wish—“

“It’s not going to work.”

“We haven’t even tried, Yn.” It almost sounded like he was pleading, begging you to give him and the two of you a chance. He wasn’t there with you in person, but he didn’t have to be for you to feel the sincerity in his words.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, finally choosing to truly let him in for the very first time since you met, “What if it doesn’t work out? I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to.”

Johnny said it with such conviction, such confidence, that you felt like you had no choice but to believe him. Your eyes studied his face, looking for any sign of wariness or doubt. Only to find none. You could only find hopefulness, and maybe even love. With one final review of his features, you had made your decision. 

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” He asked, just to make sure, but he made no attempt in holding back the grin that slowly spread across his face. The sight of which made your heart flutter. 

“We’ll try. I want to be with you.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t you had been holding as the final word left your lips. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, the floodgates in your eyes releasing the tears it had been holding onto for months now. Nervousness still coursed through your veins, but it was mixed with a different kind of emotion: excitement. 

“You’re smiling, but you’re also crying. I’m not sure if I should be concerned.” Johnny joked, the crinkles in eyes becoming much more apparent as he stared at your face through the screen. 

“I’m still scared,” You confessed, “but I’m excited.”

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle at your confession, waiting for you to wipe your tears away before he continued speaking, 

“Well, Yn, didn’t I tell you the road not taken would be the most exciting? Trust me, it’s looking really good now.”

[storiesoftaylor]

18. Daylight

reWritten by: Taylor Swift Produced by: Jack Antonoff and Taylor Swift Length: 4:53

This song was written by Taylor alone. And "Daylight" was originally going to be the name of the album Lover! After Taylor wrote "Lover" she knew that was going to be the title. I love this song because there are so many comparisons to what she believed love was, specifically the RED album. That entire album is Taylor comparing love to colors. Red, blue, gray, etc. But here, 7 years after releasing RED for the first time, she has learned that love isn't red, it's golden.

In Taylor's prologue for the album RED she writes, "And there’s something to be proud of about moving on and realizing that real love shines golden like starlight, and doesn’t fade or spontaneously combust. Maybe I’ll write a whole album about that kind of love if I ever find it. But this album is about the other kids of love that I’ve recently fallen in and out of. Love that was treacherous, sad, beautiful, and tragic. But most of all, this record is about love that was red."

She did write an entire album about what love is, and it's called Lover!

[Verse One] My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in Everyone looked worse in the light There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye In this verse, Taylor is saying that she doesn't have the best luck with finding love. And she is also saying that there are some things that she has done that she regrets, and she will tell him all about it, but she's not going to say goodbye to him. Joe is too good.

[Chorus] I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight This means Joe is the only person that she wants, the only person that she thinks about. He means everything to her, and he brought her out of the darkness. We have to remember Taylor wasn't in a great place mentally when Joe and she started dating, but the love that he showed her pulled her out of all that darkness.

[Verse Two] Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky And so I became the butt of the joke I think here she is referring to her past failed relationships and the scrutiny that she faced for it. I wounded the good, and I trusted the wicked Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke This part I believe to be about the clowns to the West, and you can't convince me otherwise. Because Taylor did try to clear the air with Clown 1, she really did. She presented said Clown with an award! Only to be backstabbed over the phone. So by answering that call, she's saying she breathed in the smoke.

(I choose to not use the names of people that Taylor is singing about or inspired by because I don't want to bring any more attention to them unless it is Joe... BUUUTTTT, I will show you photos of them where I photoshop something Taylor related to their face :) We love to talk about Joe on this blog!) Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down Maybe I've stormed out of every single room in this town Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now It's brighter now, now These last 3 lines to me sound like she is saying "maybe you were a player and afraid of commitment, and maybe I was a drama queen. But we have grown up now!"

[Chorus] I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away) I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you (Things will never be the same) I've been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night (Now I'm wide awake) Now I see daylight (daylight), I only see daylight (daylight) I only see daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight I only see daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight

[Bridge] And I can still see it all (in my mind) All of me, all of you, (intertwined) I once believed love would be (black and while) But it's golden To refer to something as "black and white" means there's no room for shades of gray. It means simple and no complications. Love is not black and white at all, but it is golden. And I can still see it all (in my head) Back and forth from New York (sneaking in your bed) I once believed love would be (burning red) But it's golden THIS IS THE BEST COUPLE OF LINES EVER! Especially because she is calling back to her old work! She's calling back to RED, we've talked about this before... She has a lot of RED comparisons in this song. In the song, "Red" Taylor sings about how loving this man was red because it burned just as bright with passion as it did pain. That's not what love is supposed to be. Love is supposed to be golden, calm, and serene and it makes you feel warm and tingly, like the sun! Like daylight! Like daylight, like daylight Like daylight, daylight

[Chorus] I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away) I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you (Things will never be the same) I've been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night (Now I'm wide awake) And now I see daylight (I see daylight), I only see daylight (daylight) I only see daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight I only see daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight (Ah) (And I can still see it all) I only see daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight (And I can still see it all, back and fourth from New York) I only see daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight (I once believed love would be burning red)

[Outro] Like daylight It's golden like daylight You gotta step into the daylight and let it go Just let it go, let it go

[Spoken Outro] I wanna be defined by the things that I love Not the things I hate Not the things I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of The things that haunt me in the middle of the night I just think that You are what you love Ugh stop Taylor! You are literally perfect, I can't.

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

captain america: the first avenger - what’s your fanfic reading pet peeve?

iron man 3 - underrated fanfic trope?

ant-man - send a few headcanons of your favorite characters!

captain america: civil war: what’s your favorite relationship to write? to read?

guardians of the galaxy vol.2 - create a playlist for one of your fics!

spider-man: far from home - share something about yourself!

Wandavision - try to draw dan art for one of your fics. (It doesn’t have to be good!)

captain america: the first avenger - what’s your fanfic reading pet peeve?  

What ISN’T my fanfiction pet peeve? Y’all don’t know this about me, but I am VERY picky. My worst one is probably when sentences are too long. Not just long sentences in general (if you’ve ever read my writing, you know that I use long sentences all the time) but when they include too much information that should have been broken up. Like, the sentence tires you out reading it because it goes past its natural endpoint. Literally one of the only things that will make me automatically back out of a fic.

iron man 3 - underrated fanfic trope?

IMO, arranged marriage au (esp. with fantasy/historical au). I find a ship I love, search for arranged marriage, and get like. 5 options. 2 are good. One of the two is 3000 words. I live in hell.

ant-man - send a few headcanons of your favorite characters!

I’ve talked a lot about my headcanons before, but here are just a few for some of my faves:

Stephen: Loves horses and was taught to ride by his sister, Donna. Tony surprised him with a couple of his own after they got married (Stephen never actually told him he liked horses; Tony just knows his husband that well)

Tony: the only language he speaks that Stephen doesn’t is Italian. So when he’s annoyed with Stephen, it’s all he speaks in. Stephen could learn, when he’s in a mood, he doesn’t really want to listen to Tony.

Sam & Bucky: Bucky brought Sam flowers for their first date. Sam’s family teased him for days afterwards, but he found it so surprisingly sweet that he ended up getting Bucky flowers the next time they went out. Now they always get each other flowers and try to top each other by leaving them in increasingly improbably places around the house.

captain america: civil war: what’s your favorite relationship to write? to read?

This is a weird one because for me it fluctuates. Right now, I’m not actually reading a lot of fic, but I’ve been on a cherik high. But my tastes tend to come in waves. My favorite ship to write ever is ironstrange - even though I’m on a break for writing them right now, I’ve written more than 30 ironstrange fics, way more than for any other ship. Legally I don’t think I could give any other answer.

guardians of the galaxy vol.2 - create a playlist for one of your fics!

I do this all the time, so here are some of my favorite ironstrange songs for From the Top:

“broken”, lovelytheband

“Sex (With My Ex), FLETCHER

“I’ll Be Good”, Jaymes Young

“In Our Bedroom After The War”, Stars

“Lamb’s Wool”, Foster The People

“Someone To You”, BANNERS

“Wish That You Were Here”, Florence + The Machine

“I Like (the idea of) You”, Tessa Violet

“Saturn”, Sleeping At Last

“This Love”, Taylor Swift

“Strawberry Blond”, Mitski

“Immortal”, MARINA

“Your Song”, Elton John

“Mary”, Big Thief

“Sick of Losing Soulmates”, dodie

“Sweetest Devotion”, Adele

spider-man: far from home - share something about yourself!

When I was in High School, the only class I got a grade below an A for was Intro. to Art. I am not an arter at all, and it can actually be very frustrating for me because I have no patience for practice and get upset about not being good at things. Why am I telling you this? Well-

Wandavision - try to draw dan art for one of your fics. (It doesn’t have to be good!)

Thanks for this one, Margaux.

Ok, I started to do something online, but I hated that. So instead I sketched this monstrosity in my journal:

This is supposed to be Jean at the end of Part Three in my fic, A Treatise on Evolution and Extinction. I only had, like, three pen colors, so the purple is supposed to represent glowy-ness. She’s wearing Erik’s jacket from X-Men: First Class and a nightgown (not that you can tell). Symbolically, I liked the contrast of the soft, innocent-seeming white fabric/gown (because Jean herself is kind of innocent, she’s just also Losing It) with the tough fabric associated with Erik and his Nazi-hunting days. I also think that it’s a nice mental image. Like, I would buy that as a poster. Or actually good fanart. (actually, if anyone wants to fanart that, hit me up and we’ll see if we can work something out)

OK, this is something a little different - this is a map I made of Genosha to serve as a reference for my fic, I still check it sometimes when I’m writing something that requires me to know where something is.

This is the only thing that’s kind of good (I can draw shapes ... mostly). It’s a Genoshan flag. I like simple, neat-looking flags. From my notes, here’s the color symbolism: “A flag with black (determination, ethnic heritage, the defeat of enemies, death, mourning/Erik), white (peace and harmony/Charles), purple (rarely ever used before the 1850s due to its expense; purple symbolizes nobility, power, wealth, dignity, devotion, pride, mystery, independence, and magic/Mutants)”. I didn’t have to put this or the map, but I put effort into these things, goddamnit.

[twomoonstwosuns]

birthday.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: smut (18+), delicious tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 3.4k

a/n: thank you guys so much for being patient, I know this took way too long. if you saw my posts you know I was dealing with some medical stuff and ended up in the hospital for a few days, but I’m better and back at work. And thank you to everyone for your kind words <3 anyways here’s some soft af smut, I hope it makes you feel feelings.

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It had been the longest three and a half weeks of your life. 

Ever since you found out he had threatened to expose your relationship, it was like you saw Hux everywhere. You had never really seen him around campus before, but now he seemed to be around every corner or in every coffee line and you could swear he was watching you. 

You had shed a few tears when you got back to your apartment, your roommates immediately sitting you down and listening to the entire story. You were still in shock that someone could be so selfish to use something so personal to someone as a weapon. Hux was a professor that neither you nor your roommates had had, but he was known as a decent teacher around the school. 

Though decent teacher and decent human being were clearly two different things. 

The collection of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts had slowly started to build since the beginning of March but there was one particular sweatshirt of his that was incredibly soft from being washed so many times that you loved. He always teased you about it because it was also his favorite. So you were surprised to find that sweatshirt plus a ratty well-loved t-shirt that featured a band you’d never heard of before in your bag when you got home, tears welling in your eyes at the touching gesture. 

Class was painful. Twice a week you were able to actually see Poe, but you had to stop yourself from staring at him like you were completely infatuated when there were other people around. Conversations with him were class-related and boring, not exactly the pillow talk you’d grown to love. It rubbed the whole situation the two of you were in right in your face. 

The closest you got to touching him was when he handed you back a first draft of a long essay he had assigned. Your fingers accidentally brushed against his as you took your paper from him and you didn’t get the chance to react because Kaydel leaned over and asked how your paper was looking. You flipped through the pages and were reading through some of the comments he made when you saw two tiny blue post it notes on the fourth page, one with an ‘I miss you’ and the other with a ‘you look beautiful today’ and a drawing of the heart eyes smiley face. You bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely, but you were swooning inside.  

Being told you couldn’t have what you wanted sucked. 

You woke the morning of your birthday with your two roommates bursting into your room blasting Taylor Swift’s “22” and holding your favorite scone and mixed coffee drink from your favorite local café. They had surprises lined up for you that night, starting at seven when you were all done with classes. When they left your room, you laid back in bed and willed the motivation to get ready for class to come to you. Your phone dinged beside you and a smile immediately formed on your face when you saw it was from Poe. 

At least you were still able to text him and call him and FaceTime him. 

You opened the message he sent, seeing an audio message instead of a text. The sound of his guitar filled your ears and the strings plucked the familiar tune of “Happy Birthday”, his voice soft enough to send you back to sleep.

“I miss you, baby,” he said as finished playing “Happy birthday.”

You wanted to text him ‘I love you’ right then and there, but you didn’t. It kind of scared you how strongly you felt about him after only being with him for a few months and the last thing you wanted to do was make this separation permanent. So you stayed quiet, saying it in your head as you drifted off to sleep each night. 

You hated when your birthdays landed on weekdays. There was something so much more fun about making a day out of your birthday than spending over half the day stuck in class. You paid very little attention, going through multiple happy birthday texts and social media posts from friends and family, and of course texting Poe when he was in between classes. 

Your roommates treated you to dinner at a local bistro, a place you had all been eyeing on going since you were freshmen. It was a little more upscale, so you promised yourself you’d make time for it before you graduated. Jessika had left before you and Karé to stop by work, a scheduling issue that she said would take ten minutes to fix turned into twenty and made her late for dinner. The service at the bistro was surprisingly quick for a Friday night and she had to order after you and Karé already placed yours. 

Dinner turned into wanting to grab drinks at Maz’s, the special birthday drink famously known throughout campus. On the way to the bar you got on the phone with your mom and sister, confirming the plan to drive home the next day to celebrate your birthday with them. You were so wrapped up in the conversation of what your mother was going to make for your birthday dinner that you didn’t even notice you weren’t at the bar until the car had stopped and you hung up the phone.

“Wait, what are we doing back at the apartment?”

Jessika leaned forward onto the console and looked at you. “Will you run in and get my card?”

“What? No.”

“Please.”

“Why me?”

“Because you used it last.”

“Um…no I didn’t.”

“Yes you did, last week when we ordered pizza.”

“I gave it back to you.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Oh my god, will someone just go get the card?” Karé said exasperatedly.

“Y/N, go.”

You look back at Jessika and narrow your eyes. 

“You’ve been missing your card for a week and you just noticed it was missing?”

“No time for judgment, just go find it please. I think it’s in the kitchen.”

You rolled your eyes and opened the car door, slamming it on Jessika’s “thank you”. You rushed inside, your phone buzzing with Jessika’s name flashing across your screen. 

“I swear to god Jessika, if you tell me you just found your card in your wallet—“

“I didn’t, I just remembered a few other places you could check in case it’s not where I think it is.”

You took the elevator up to the third floor where your apartment was, Jessika chattering away in your ear. You speed-walked down the hallway, pulling your keys out of your pocket. 

“Are you there yet?”

“Calm down, I’m unlocking the door now. Where am I supposed to look for your credit card?”

“Did you take it into your bedroom at all?”

“No.”

“Then try the kitchen counter first.”

You walked into the apartment, confused as to why it wasn’t pitch black. “One of you left a light on!”

Karé and Jessika both mumbled something incoherent into the phone as you walked towards the kitchen and you suddenly stopped cold in your tracks. Standing in front of you was Poe, his eyes lighting up and a wide smile crossing his face illuminated by the lamp in the living room when he saw you. A single cupcake with a lone candle sat in his hand. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

You were speechless, your mouth attempting to form words but failing miserably as your brain wondered if you were hallucinating. Birthday or not, he was the last person you expected to see. 

“Surprise!” Jessika and Karé exclaimed into the phone, taking your silence as the sign you had found your surprise. “We got you for the evening so Poe’s got you for the night! We’ve got Beebs and we’re spending the night elsewhere. Have fun, we’ll see you in the morning!”

They hung up on you but you still didn’t move, still too stunned that this was real. Poe chuckled and blew out the candle on the cupcake so wax wouldn’t melt onto it before setting it down. He tilted his head to catch your eye with a smirk on his face. 

“Sweetheart?”

You set your phone and keys down on the counter and walked swiftly towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your head in his shoulder. Poe returned your fervent embrace, lifting you off the ground as he hugged you just as tightly as you were hugging him. He pressed a kiss to the juncture of your shoulder and you brought your head around to crash your lips onto his. 

Poe’s hand came up to cup the back of your head, strands of your hair slipping between his fingers. You cupped his cheek with one hand, the feeling of his lips finally on yours bringing back the familiar butterflies you’d been missing for weeks. 

You pulled away breathless, a laugh of disbelief slipping from your lips as he set you back down on the ground but keeping his arms tight around you. 

“How!?”

“Jessika snuck me in here after you left. That’s why she was late for dinner.”

Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a watery laugh. This was, by far, the best birthday present you’d ever gotten. Poe looked at you in concern. 

“Hey, are you ok?”

You nodded and gave him a sure smile. “I’m fine. Better now.”

Poe placed his hand on your cheek and brought your lips back to his in a short, sweet kiss. He then reached behind you to the cupcake off the counter, only removing his arm from around you long enough to re-light the candle. You smiled as you blew out the candle, taking a bite of the red velvet cupcake and getting another kiss from Poe to get the frosting off of your lips.  

“I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Poe said with a soft smile as he reached his hand into his pocket. “I did anyway.”

You set the cupcake down and he placed a tiny drawstring bag into your hand. You opened it and a silver bangle fell into your palm, a small hockey skate charm hanging off of it. You laughed as you ran your thumb across it. 

“Now I’ll have daily reminder of how badly I skate,” you laughed, looking up at Poe to see a humorous smile on his face. “I love it, thank you.”

Poe grabbed it from your hand and clasped it around your wrist, the tips of his fingers moving gracefully against your skin and sending goosebumps across your skin. You admired it as you rested your hand against Poe’s chest, his hands settling back onto your waist.

“So, I get you for the night huh?” You asked, your fingers running over the collar of his shirt. 

“The whole night. Whatever you want to do.”

“How long do I have you tomorrow?”

“Just until the morning. I’ve got a ton of grading to do you and you’re going to see your mom and sister.”

You sighed. “I could ditch them. Say I have homework or something.”

“I can’t have them hating me before they even meet me.”

You giggled and glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Twelve hours isn’t enough time.”

“I know,” Poe said, squeezing your waist and leaning down to kiss your cheek. “We better make the most of the time we have then.”

Placing a hand on his cheek, you brought Poe’s gaze to you. You gave him a small smile before leaning in and placing your lips on his. Your lips moved slowly together, every intention of your desire for him expressed in one simple action. His eyes were dark when you broke the kiss, studying your face as if deciding where he wanted to kiss you next. Stepping out of his embrace, you moved to the living room to turn off the lamp before holding out your hand. He took it, squeezing it gently as you led him to your bedroom. 

You undressed each other slowly, taking time to kiss or touch every new piece of skin exposed. Looking down at you with a hand on your lower back, he guided you back to your bed. His eyes were dark but he wasn’t looking at you like a predator hunting its prey; dare you say there was complete adoration sparkling behind his brown eyes. 

Poe kissed you once more before moving down your body, kisses being pressed wherever he could reach. His lips moved along the outline of your bra, nimble fingers circling behind you to take it off and throwing it aside. He suckled your breasts, tongue gently flicking against your hardened nubs and making you sigh in complete delight. He gave your breasts equal attention before moving down your stomach, the lightness of his lips tickling your stomach. 

Poe’s fingers dipped into the waistband of your underwear and his eyes connecting with yours looking for the ‘okay’. With a sure nod of your head, he tugged them down your legs and tossed them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His fingers curled around the bend of your knee, lips connecting to the spot next to your kneecap and moving upward. His lips ghosted up your thigh, breath hot against you and long eyelashes tickling your skin as his warm breath hit your slick folds. He pressed a kiss against you, a quiet gasp falling from your lips when his tongue ran along you up to your clit. Your hands flew to his hair, a quiet “fuck” mumbled breathlessly and you briefly wondered if it would be selfish of you to ask him to stay between your legs for the rest of the night. 

He grabbed one of the hands that was in his hair and brought it down to rest against your lower stomach, fingers tangling together as he held your hips still while he worked his tongue against you. He sucked your clit between his lips, a high-pitched whine escaping you as you squeezed his hand. 

“Poe, please…” Your voice was breathy, like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. A light tug on his hair made Poe move back up your body, leaving chaste kisses all over you until he hovered over you, chest pressed against yours and his cock nestled against the juncture of your legs. He brought your hands up next to your head, holding them down with light pressure. You breathed heavily, eyes raking over his face from the shine of your arousal on his lips and the slope of his nose to the crinkle of his eyes. “I need you.”

His dark hooded eyes took you in, the pink tint of your flushed skin and the way your lips were swollen from being consumed by his. He had completely melted you into a puddle. He let go of your hand to line himself up to your entrance, his eyes never leaving your face. You leaned up and brushed your lips over his as his forehead came down to rest against yours. He pushed inside you slowly, a quiet moan coming from your throat as he settled inside you. He held still to let you adjust around him, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” he whispered as he started to move, his hips rocking into you with a tenderness you hadn’t experienced with him before. A quiet gasp fell from your lips, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. Your arm escaped his grasp above your head to wrap itself around his neck. 

Poe brought his lips down to yours, swallowing every noise you made as he kissed you deeply and slowly, the pace of his thrusts deep and deliberate. His hands ran over your body, already familiar with every curve and every place that drove you wild. Poe connected his lips to your neck, gently sucking reminders of your night across your neck and collarbone. He drove his hips into yours, the movements deep and precise and you felt like he could push you straight through the mattress. 

If he did, you’d hold him tight and drag him down with you.

You put a hand on his chest and he stilled, looking down at you. You gave him a knowing smile as you pushed against him lightly. He smiled and wrapped his arms around you as started to sit up, sitting back and pulling you into his lap. Your hands rested on the side of his neck as you ground your hips against his, the new angle sending ripples of pleasure through your bodies. Soft moans left your lips as Poe guided you up and down his cock with his hands on your hips, his own sounds against your skin making you shiver. You threw your head back, whispered praises from Poe said against your chest. 

He met the movement of your hips, the angle making his cock brush against that spot inside you with each thrust. You clenched around him, the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach beginning to form. Poe kissed up from your chest to your neck, nuzzling his nose against it and letting his teeth gently scrape the outline of your pulse point. 

“Baby…” Poe formed the word against your skin, tears pricking your eyes at the affection behind it. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

Neither of you were going to last long but the amount you cared about it was very little. You wanted it to last, but you also craved the way he made you fall apart, and you knew it would be the first of many rounds that night. Poe claimed your mouth for the hundredth time that night, another kiss of many more to come, before kissing back down your neck to your shoulder. You held him close as you fell over the edge, your whole body trembling and the the rush of your orgasm almost making you cry from the flurry of emotions you felt at that moment. Poe grunted into your shoulder, his breath hot against you as he came, stilling his movements and holding your waist tightly as he spilled inside you.

You felt like you ceased to exist, as if you had come together in the throes of pleasure and become one. 

Neither of you spoke, both of you too afraid of blurting out your shared secret. So you kissed him. You let your lips say the words you were scared to say, but you felt them. Oh, did you feel them. Poe held you impossibly close, as though he could absorb every part of you and take you back with him. His fingertips ghosted up your spine and you rested your forehead against his, breathing the same air as the euphoric high settled into a dream like haze. 

You stayed in that position until you couldn’t, the call of the bed beneath you becoming too great to ignore. Poe laid back, bringing you with so you laid on top of his chest, completely relaxed and moving your head between resting your chin on his chest to look at him and laying your cheek against his beating heart. He stayed inside of you and stroked your hair, neither one of you in any hurry to move. 

You were mostly quiet, too busy basking in each others company to have in depth conversations. Any conversations you did have ended in laughter and the swapping of kisses, limbs tangled together as you held each other as close as you could. Once again, you and Poe fought off sleep as long as you could, dreading the coming of daybreak when you’d have to part until the next time you’d be able to see each other…whenever that would be. 

But you still had that night and while you couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words, you’d show Poe just how much you loved him over and over again. 

taglist [open!] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @dameronsgalaxygal @mserynlarsen @yougottakeeponkeepinon @linibirdimagine @goddamndameron @starrykitn @cloud-leader @damnyoudameron @liadamerondjarin @april-14-blog @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol

[jalapeno-princess]

Back to you

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 11.3K

Genre: Angst with a happy ending (idk if I can even consider it happy exactly but they both get what they want in the end)

Summary: It’s been over two years since Mark decided to end your relationship together and you’ve been bitter about everything since the day he left. The last thing you expected was to see him on your front porch claiming he made a mistake in breaking up with you and no matter how much he broke your heart, there was no way you could forget just how happy you were because of him and how much you still loved him.

Author’s Note: I know I say this about most of my stories, but I really don’t know how I feel about this one. After hearing the song “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift, I really wanted to write a story based off of it because songs tend to stick in my mind until I finish writing a story so this might seemed a little bit rushed, repetitive and some of it might not even make sense I apologize in advance and I think I’m going to take a few days off from writing just because school and work is getting more and more busy (and to those who requested stories just know I still plan on finishing your requests thank you for your patience) with that, please enjoy.

Vintage tee, brand new phone High heels on cobblestones When you are young, they assume you know nothing Sequin smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing But I knew you Dancing in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby kiss it better, right And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite A friend to all is a friend to none Chase two girls, lose the one When you are young, they assume you know nothing

“Babe.” 

You could feel yourself drifting in and out of sleep and it was because you were exhausted from both work and school. Being a full time college student majoring in Biology and minoring in English while having a full-time job wasn’t the most ideal situation, but you were handling it pretty well. 

When your boyfriend picked you up right after work and took you back to his apartment, all you wanted to do was change in to one of his shirts that was two sizes too big for you and go to sleep with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. However, Mark had different plans in mind. Your boyfriend was aware that you were extremely tired and he hated how you were overworking yourself, but he knew not to say anything in fear of getting in to an argument with you. 

Being friends for over ten years and dating for three was enough time for the older boy to learn every single thing about you. You were always so independent and it was something Mark both loved and hated about you. He hated seeing you cry over how frustrating college was, he hated listening to you degrade yourself and talk negatively about your accomplishments and what he hated most of all, was not getting to spend time with you. 

If you weren’t at work, you were at school and vice versa and it wasn’t like Mark had much time on his hands either. He was four months away from graduating with his bachelor’s degree in engineering and he decided not too long ago that he would go after his master’s degree right after. Spending time with you was Mark’s favorite pastime and it didn’t matter to him what the two of you were doing; as long as you were around, he was content. 

You released an exhausted sigh when he insisted on watching a movie on Netflix, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. Even though you were on the verge of falling asleep, you were willing to do anything to make him happy. However, the two of you weren’t even halfway through the movie when Mark noticed your head bobbing up and down and the sight made him giggle softly. 

God, he was so in love with you. 

When you heard him call out for you, you practically jolted awake from being startled and gave yourself a couple of moments to process your surroundings and what was going on. He brought his hand up to your face and cupped your cheek ever so gently while running his fingers through your hair. 

“Did you want to go to sleep? We can continue this tomorrow. I’ll carry you to the room.” You gave him an adorable, sleepy smile before shaking your head. “I’m awake, I’m fine. Let’s keep watching whatever movie this is—“ you were too tired to see him playfully roll his eyes at you and before you knew it, he turned off the tv and picked you up bridal style. 

“It’s fine babe, I’m actually about to knock out myself. Plus, it’s been a couple of days since I got to go to bed next to your pretty face. I’ve missed my baby.” Out of habit, you wrapped your hands around his neck and hid your face in the crook of his nape. The scent of fresh linen and citrus made your chest feel warm. 

It was rare for Mark to do his laundry because he had no clue what he was doing. A lot of his clothes either shrunk or changed color. He didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to mix his white clothes with colors; which is why a lot of his favorite white hoodies were now bright pink. As much as he didn’t want to bother you nor did he want you having to do things that you didn’t have to, you would always do his laundry without him having to ask. You just loved doing anything to help him out because he never failed to do the same for you. 

Since these last few weeks have been pretty hectic for the both of you, you didn’t really have time to see Mark nor did you get to go over to his place. Asking you to move in with him was always at the tip of his tongue, but because he was planning on going away for his undergrad, he didn’t want you to move in only for him to leave. Once he brought you in to his room, he placed you on to his bed while he took off his shirt and got ready to join you. 

Even if you were in and out of sleep, and you’ve seen Mark shirtless on many occasions it didn’t stop you from blushing at the sight. He didn’t take too long to join you and pulled you close in to his body; he placed his chin on your head and cheekily brought his hand up in to his sweatshirt you were wearing, drawing random figures on your bare back. The cold touch of his fingers along your shoulder blades sent shivers down your spine and you smiled tiredly to yourself at his ministrations. This was when you were at your most serene; in your boyfriend’s arms, right about to enter dreamland. 

No matter how frustrating life could get sometimes, the beautiful boy whose embrace you were in right now made everything so much better. He made all the negativity disappear. What were you going to do without him once he were to transfer colleges and be thousands of miles away from you? Mark was all you’ve known for so many years; even through all your failed and toxic relationships before the two of you became a couple, he was always there and never failed to make any unfortunate situation better. 

“Y/n? Where do you see yourself in ten years?” The sudden question broke you out of your sleep induced haze and you slowly pulled out of his embrace in order to get a better look at him. You shrugged indifferently and took a few seconds to actually think about it. There was never a time in your life where Mark wasn’t around, so you knew you wanted him in your life for as long as you could have him for; that was a given. But you hardly ever had time to think about the future and what you had hoped your life would be like. 

“Hmm, if I’m being honest with you, I’m actually not too sure. I’m hoping I have a decent job that I actually like. I mean, I’m spending thousands of dollars just to learn a bunch of shit I won’t remember later on, so I’d like to think I can get a job that pays enough for me to make a living off of. I also want kids, I really want children. I’ve always dreamed about having a big family. That’s all I really care about. I want five kids at the most, but I want to be able to completely afford them and be able to take care of them so we’ll just have to wait and see. What about you? And why the sudden question about the future Mark?” He lifted up your chin and placed a chaste kiss upon your lips. 

“Do you see me in that future of yours?” You scoffed at the fact that he completely ignored your questions, and because he was inquiring on whether or not you wanted him to stay if your life; if he was the man you planned on settling down and spending the rest of your life with. You could’ve sworn you told him countless times that he was all you needed for the rest of your days and maybe he was just messing around with you. 

“Of course I do. Even when we were kids, I knew I always wanted you around Mark. We’ve known each other for almost fourteen years, there’s no way you can get rid of me now babe. I don’t care what my future looks like, all I know is that I want you in it.” He gave you his signature cheeky grin before pulling you up against his chest. 

“Good, because that’s all I want too. I want you for the rest of my life, in each and every life time.”

Winter was extremely cold this year; in fact, the local weatherman claimed that it was one of the coldest winters your town experienced in the last twenty years. Although winter was your favorite season from the time you were a little girl, the last couple of years haven’t been the best for you and you no longer felt the need to celebrate any holiday; you no longer felt the holiday spirit. 

You hated that you no longer felt like decorating your place with Halloween, thanksgiving and Christmas decorations, you hated not going over to your parent’s house to celebrate and you were upset with the fact that you’d find yourself turning off any kind of Christmas song as soon as it would play on the radio. As the days got colder, so did your heart. 

Two years ago, you had made so many plans for the winter break. You wanted to go ice skating with your friends, Christmas caroling with your family, snow boarding with Mark and his family and setting up a Christmas tree for the first time in your apartment. Your enthusiasm for anything and everything and just your life in general all changed once Mark went away. 

Right after Mark graduated with his bachelor’s degree, he took no time in applying to all the best engineering schools all throughout the world. You were extremely supportive of anything and everything that Mark wanted to do and accomplish, which is why you tried your best to hide the fact that you were bothered with the idea of him no longer being with you. It would be selfish of you to try and stop him, but deep down you were afraid of what was going to happen to your relationship and you had every right to be.

If you knew then what you know now, you would’ve ended things with him completely before letting him play with both your heart and your mind from miles away. When he found out he got accepted to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, you put on the fakest smile possible and threw him a congratulations party surrounded by both your families and a few of your mutual friends. 

Not only was he going to college almost 4,000 miles away, but you didn’t know when the next time you were going to see him was. Mark made sure to spend every single moment up until the day he had to fly out with you and he promised you each and every day that the two of you were going to be okay. That your love was enough to withstand any amount of distance and time difference. For the first few months, it worked out perfectly. Although it would be morning where he was and night time where you were, you both made it work. 

If you couldn’t face time or call one another, you made sure to send text messages to each other and made sure to update each other with how life was going. It was extremely rough; seeing him through phone and computer screens wasn’t the same as having him with you but you took what you could get. Unfortunately, only three months of being away, Mark decided that a long distance relationship was too much for him to handle. 

He texted you one night and told you he couldn’t do it anymore. At first, you thought he was messing around; even if you knew deep down Mark would never joke around about something as serious as a breakup, but you didn’t want to believe he no longer wanted to be in a relationship with you. No matter how hard it was not having him around, you could handle it. 

What was a couple of years away from him, especially because you knew he’d come home to visit during the holidays, knowing that you were planning on spending the rest of your life with him? Something had to be up; there was no way he could give up on your relationship that easily. You begged and pleaded with him to genuinely think about what he was asking for; you called many times to the point where you felt as if he would block you. You tried reaching out to him on social media and you cried for the entire night. Hell, that entire week for you was filled with multiple bottles of red wine and hundreds of tissues on your kitchen floor. 

Right after sending that message and giving you one word responses, he stopped contacting you altogether. You’ve had your heart broken a couple of times; but nothing compared to the pain you felt when you came to the realization that Mark was no longer going to be in your life. Not only were you in the middle of losing your boyfriend, you were also losing your best friend and even if things were to settle down and you were to move on; if that were even possible, there was no way you could ever be friends with him again. Not when he practically ripped your heart out right out of your chest and stepped on it like it was nothing; like you were nothing. 

You screamed, cried and even broke a couple of things that he either owned or gave to you. You even had to quit your job and take a year off of school because you weren’t in the right mind to do anything. Losing Mark was a pain you didn’t think you would ever experience because of how well things were going between the two of you. Where did it all go wrong? Everything seemed to be fine just a few days prior to his heartbreaking messages. 

When did he decide that he no longer wanted to commit to you and your relationship? You stayed away from everyone you knew; your family, your friends, some classmates you’d talk to every now and then and even some of your coworkers. Not only were you unable to get out of bed every morning, but you could no longer think or feel nor did you have the energy to eat anything. To some outsiders, you’d be considered pathetic. Why would you let something so silly like a break up wreck your entire life? You had so much going for you; why would you allow a boy to do that to you? 

But then again, Mark wasn’t just any ordinary boy. He was the love of your life, your safe haven, your best friend. He’s all you’ve ever known and wanted to know for the rest of your life. A month after the breakup, you finally allowed yourself to get out of bed and out of your apartment. It was difficult, but you knew that moping around wouldn’t do you any good. You even began to let your friends in family back in to your life. Since you didn’t want anyone pitying you or worrying about your mental and physical health, you decided to keep the breakup to yourself. 

If anybody found out; which you were sure some of your mutual friends would, then you’d let them know that it was okay even if you were on the verge of a mental breakdown almost every single day. When your friends BamBam and Yugyeom came over to spend time with you, Yugyeom made the mistake in blurting our that Mark was seeing someone. If you thought the breakup was already bad enough, hearing that Mark was in a relationship not too long after your breakup felt like a stab to both your back and your heart. It made you wonder, was he cheating on you? 

Did he realize that there were other women out there that he could actually be around? Was he that lonely that he needed love from anyone he could get possible? Did he really give up thirteen years of a friendship and relationship for someone he probably just met? It made you question so many different things and brought up so many insecurities. Did he fall out of love with you and if so, when? Was everything he told you months before he left a lie? 

Did you really mean that little to him that he didn’t care what would happen to the two of you? You hated him. Never in your life did you would be without Mark. Even before the two of you started dating, you’d always plan out your futures together and he’s told you on multiple occasions that he wanted your houses right next door to each other’s so he could see you every day. You wanted to fly up to Massachusetts and punch him in the face, but what good would that do? 

It wouldn’t bring him back to you; wouldn’t change his mind about his decision. If he really loved you, you would’ve been the only girl he’d see himself with and the thought of dating someone else would kill him. If he wanted a break to focus on school, then you’d give it to him. But now, knowing that he was in a relationship with someone else, you wanted nothing more than to remove him completely from your life and you did—or at least tried to. 

For the next two years, you were in and out of relationships and at one point, you gave up on any sort of relationship whether it was sexual or platonic completely. Nobody could ever compare to Mark and the way he loved you. Nor would you be able to love anyone or care for anyone the way you did with Mark. He had a hold on your heart; his name, his memories, his touch, his kisses, his handsome face and kind-hearted personality would be forever tattooed on your soul and you didn’t think they would ever be removed anytime soon. 

It was almost 2 in the morning and you were sitting on your couch watching reruns of Friends. For some odd reason, you couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep. Normally, you’d be exhausted from both work and school, especially because you were taking up extra classes to make up for the semester you took off. However, you’ve been trying for hours to get your well deserved rest and just accepted the fact that sleep would find you when your entire body was ready to do so. 

As much as you loved the show, it no longer made you laugh like it used to and it was probably because it was both your’s and Mark’s favorite show to watch together. In fact, you went through all ten seasons in less than a month to the point where you memorize many of the lines. This episode in particular was one of your favorites. Not only was it extremely funny, but Mark even re-enacted the scene where Joey goes and puts on multiple layers of Chandler’s outfits. 

It’s been a while since you thought of Mark and thankfully your friends knew not to bring him up, but as the episode went on you couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing. Luckily on most days, you were too caught up in both your studies and your work to even think about him but now that you had free time, your curiosity was getting the best of you. How was he doing? Did he already graduate from college? Was he still dating that girl? Did he have plans on staying in Massachusetts? 

You released a frustrated grunt and changed the episode; you couldn’t handle the over thinking and you were sure you’d end up not getting any sleep at all if you continued wondering about your ex-boyfriend. One more episode later and you found yourself finally falling asleep. Before you could completely drift off though, there was a soft knock on your front door that caught your attention. 

At first you just assumed your mind was playing tricks on you and that you were hallucinating, but the knocking continued for a few moments and although you hated being rude, whoever was outside must have known what time it was so they should already know there was a huge chance you were sleeping. When the doorbell rang, you released an exasperated sigh and took a couple of moments to get in touch with reality before getting up and making your way to see who was so desperate for your attention at such an ungodly hour. 

You had a feeling it was either BamBam or Jackson on one of their drunken stupors; this wouldn’t be the first time they showed up on your porch drunk off their asses. You never understood why they’d come over to your house out of all places at at one point you felt that they were secretly giving your address to their Uber drivers because they could trust you to take care of them. Since you were so out of it, you didn’t take the time to look in the peephole and as soon as you opened your door to see who it was, you really wish you did. 

It’s been over two years since you last saw or heard from him and you’ve tried your best to completely push the thought of him and your many years together to the back of your mind. If you were exhausted before opening the door, you were wide awake now and without even thinking, you attempted to slam the door out of reaction to seeing him again. However, Mark had faster reflexes and pushed the door before you could close it entirely. 

Everything was happening so fast and your mind was still trying to process his presence. What was he doing there? When did he get back home? Why was he at your place so early in the morning? How did he know where you lived? You weren’t sure what kind of expression you had on your face, but you knew you probably didn’t look too pleased to see him. 

But it was only natural and what did he expect after what he did to you? For you to welcome him with open arms as if the last two years didn’t exist? Did he really forget the kind of person you were? During your relationship, he knew you weren’t a force to be reckoned with whether or not he was your boyfriend so now that he was standing outside on your porch for God knows what reason, he had to know that you no longer wanted anything to do with him. 

“Y/n—“

“Don’t start with me. What the hell are you doing here Mark?”

Seeing him after two years was pulling both your heart and mind in to multiple directions. You were so confused. Your mind wanted him gone, away from you and your house but your heart wanted nothing more than to invite him inside and see what he was there for. It was if Mark aged backwards; if anything, he looked even younger and more handsome than the last night you saw him and you despised the fact that he was having such a strong effect on your heart. You might have thought you hated him before, but that was because he wasn’t around for you to really feel anything towards him. 

Seeing him after two years of being away from him was slowly driving you insane. Why did he have to come back after practically ruining your entire life? It was like he was really out to wreck your entire being. Like he got off of being the reason behind your destruction. When he brought his hand up to the back of his neck and scratched it out of habit, you let out a laugh of disbelief. You’ve known him for more than half of your life; you knew what each and every one of his ministrations meant. 

He was either nervous, worried or both. You caught on to this habit the first time he took you out on a date. Even if he’s known you and your family for so long, he was so afraid to ask your dad for permission to date his little girl. He scratched the back of his neck every time your dad brought up having you home by 10 that night and to not even think about taking things further than a peck on the cheek. At the time it was the cutest thing ever but thinking about the memory now made your stomach sore. 

“I uh—I’m sorry for bothering you and I know you’re probably going to freak out when I tell you  this—but I—I made a huge mistake in breaking up with you and I’m so fucking sorry y/n.” It was if time froze in that moment. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He regrets the breakup and he’s sorry? It’s been over two years, why all of a sudden did he think it was okay for him to come back after all the heartbreak he put you through? What did he expect was going to happen? 

Did he think you’d welcome him back with open arms and start off from where the two of you ended things? Life didn’t work out that way. He couldn’t have you when it was beneficial for him and what was really upsetting you, was knowing that there was a chance you’d allow him to fix things. Mark never did any wrong in your eyes even if he practically ruined your entire being. When he first ended your relationship, you wanted to believe he had a good reason as to why he did so. You just couldn’t believe his shit excuse of a reason and after hearing that he got in to another relationship, it just answered your many questions. 

If this was under different circumstances, you’d slap him right across of his face for even thinking he had a right to be at your house right now giving you poor apology. The laugh that fell from your lips both confused and worried Mark. It was obvious that your breakup had a huge toll on you. You lost over twenty pounds, you no longer put effort in to your appearance and you just looked more fragile and broken and Mark never hated himself more than he did in that moment knowing this was all his fault. He didn’t mean for things to go this far; couples broke up all the time but it just showed him how much he must’ve meant to you. 

“That’s a joke right? You’re fucking with me right now—look Mark I don’t have time for this bullshit right now I have work in the morning. I’m tired and I made a pact with myself to never get involved with you ever again. You can take your apology and shove it up your ass.” 

You weren’t a stranger to seeing Mark cry; he cried the night before he left at the thought of not getting to see you anymore. He cried every now and then when school got too much for him to handle, he cried during Christopher Robin when Pooh couldn’t find his friends, he cried when his grandmother passed away and although the two of you hardly ever fought, there were some arguments that caused him to tear up. 

But you weren’t expecting to see him get all worked up over your breakup especially because he was the one to initiate it and because it’s been so long. Unfortunately, you could feel your heart growing heavy at his defeated posture and as much as you wanted to keep up your angry facade, it just didn’t feel right to be so harsh towards him. Even after all the negativity he put you through mentally and physically. 

“Mark—“

“I know. I shouldn’t be here. I know it’s probably too late and I’m completely aware that you hate me. I can’t blame you, I’d hate me too. There aren’t any excuses for what I did to you and for everything you had to suffer through because of me and I don’t know what made me come here tonight I just—fuck. I’ve missed you so much y/n. I know that’s going to be hard to believe, especially because we’ve been broken up for over two years now but I need you to understand that these last two years without you, on top of the four months we were still together while I was away were the worst years of my life. There aren’t enough words to describe how sorry I am and how much I hate myself for giving up on us so easily. I thought about you every single day. I wondered how you were doing, if our breakup affected you in any way, if you missed me the way I couldn’t stop missing you, if you moved on, if you finally graduated. I know it was my fault that I no longer knew anything and the guys—they refused to update me on anything. Hell, they stopped contacting me and I only ever heard from them if I started the conversation first.” 

You released a snicker before crossing your arms in frustration. One thing that was so convenient about your relationship with Mark was that you had the same circle of friends. It was easier that way. Although Mark knew of them first and he was the reason why you became friends with them, they always seemed to show favoritism towards you. You were like a younger sister to them and you saw them practically every single day. 

In fact, they were the reasons why you didn’t end up losing yourself completely after Mark ended things with you. Jackson and BamBam made sure that you were eating and drinking enough liquids to keep your body from becoming malnourished. Jinyoung tried his best to help you with your studies so that you wouldn’t fail and Jaebeom even stayed with you at your apartment to keep you company. Honestly, you don’t know what you did to deserve any of them, but you were extremely grateful for all that they’ve done for you. It wasn’t surprising to hear that they were so hostile towards him. 

The minute Jinyoung saw his post about his new girlfriend, he wanted to get on the next plane to Massachusetts and knock some sense in to him. He, along with the rest of your friends saw how much damage the breakup caused you and they hated that he did such an unexpected thing to you. 

“Do they know you’re back? How long have you been back for? Is that why you came to see me? Are you here to stay permanently? Is that why you came here to try and apologize? Did you think I was going to forget about everything I had to go through when you broke up with me? You were a fucking coward Mark. You couldn’t even break up with me over the phone, you texted me such a pathetic excuse—what? Did you think that I would take you back so quickly because of our past together? Because we’ve known each other for so long and been through so much together? Did you think I wouldn’t hear about your relationship? From what I heard, you seemed to really like her. So what happened? Did the thrill expire? You got to experience other women and came to the conclusion that it wasn’t what you wanted? Do you know just how much shit you put me through once you decided you no longer wanted to be with me? I blamed myself for our breakup. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you. That I wasn’t worth waiting for. Are you not man enough to handle a long distance relationship? Couldn’t handle not having your dick wet for more than a few months? I’m not who I used to be Mark. You ruined me. You broke me. I don’t know what you expected after coming here tonight, but I have no intention on taking you back.” 

The longer you watched him react to your words, you could feel a stab to your chest at each quiver of his lip and furrow of his brow. You hated that you could see the twelve year old boy you developed a crush on all those years ago in his eyes. You hated that you felt sorry for him. He probably went through a lot to find out where you lived and you were mentally cursing whoever gave him your address. But if he went through all that trouble especially if he knew he’d probably get shit from your friends for trying to look for you, you had to give him credit for that. 

“I—I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry y/n. I’ll leave. I just—She was a mistake—and our relationship didn’t last long. I know—you probably don’t want to hear it. She just helped fill the void of your absence and I didn’t even like her. She just took my mind off of the distance. She gave me the attention you never failed to give me. I meant for it to be just a friendship and I didn’t break up with you to be with her. I couldn’t handle being away from you and if I could go back in the past, I would’ve stayed and went to college here. I would’ve done anything to keep our relationship what it was. You were—you are the best thing that ever happened to me y/n. Hell, I’d prevent the breakup from happening if I could. I don’t expect anything from you, I really don’t. But I’m still so in love with you and I probably always will be. You’re my soulmate y/n. It took this breakup for me to realize that there’s nobody else for me in this entire world. It’s you. You’re it for me and I’m so mad at myself for not realizing how lucky I was to have you until I fucked it all up and lost you. Even if you decide that there’s no chance for me to come back in to your life. Goodnight y/n. Take care.” 

You don’t know what came over you, but seeing him walk away hurt more than the actual breakup itself. You remembered having to go in to therapy because of how the breakup messed with your head. The thought of having to seek therapy because of something you considered to be so stupid made you feel pathetic. Your therapist was a very kind and soft-spoken older woman. She did her best to help you with moving on and had you do all kinds of things to take your mind off of Mark and what could’ve been. 

However, the only thing you could’ve done without was how she would indirectly tell you that you were too young to know what love was. To know what heartbreak was. She insinuated that you were too young to really know what a real heartbreak felt like and that you were a fool for letting someone like Mark ruin you but she didn’t know anything other than what you told her. 

She didn’t know how Mark was your best friend before he was your boyfriend. She didn’t know how he made you feel as if you were the most beautiful and most important person in the entire world. She didn’t know that you spent almost your entire life with him by your side. She didn’t know what your relationship was like and how you were willing to give up anything and everything in your possession if it meant getting to spend the rest of your life with him. Who was she to say you were too young to know what love actually was? How old did you have to be to know what love was? 

You fell in love with Mark before you learned algebra. You fell in love with him before you knew what love even was, but he made it known that he reciprocated those same feelings for you. The two of you were only fourteen when you realized that your feelings for Mark were more than what one should feel for their best friend, but you weren’t all that young to realize the effect Mark had on your heart. The sudden memory of your therapy sessions made you want to let him continue walking away; you meant it when you said you no longer wanted anything to do with him and that he was in your past and you had every intention in keeping him there. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still love him. 

No matter how much you wanted to hate him and how long it’s been since he’s been gone, you could never forget your first love. Nor could you let that many years of a friendship go down the drain even if he did it so easily. You’ve always felt like you loved Mark more than he loved you, but that was only because you’d say it more than he did. Mark was never a man of words, he was a man of actions and he never failed to show you he loved you with his actions. He didn’t have to come here tonight; he could’ve left things just the way they were. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he still loved you, which is why you weren’t surprised when you called out his name right before he could completely be out of sight. 

“It’s late. I don’t want you driving right now. It’s dangerous. You can—sleep on the couch.” The small smirk that rose on his face didn’t go unnoticed by you, even if he tried to cover it up as soon as he did it and it made your heart leap at the sight. You were a fool for the beautiful man in front of you and although it would take a while for you to forgive him, you were willing to see where things were going to go between you both. If he were to come back months ago, you probably would’ve gave in to him the minute you opened the door but because you were stronger now, you were going to let your mind make the decisions for you. 

“It’s fine y/n. Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think it’s a good idea—“

“Neither do I, but there’s a tiny voice inside my head telling me to ask you to stay. I won’t force you to, and don’t think that this means anything. But the offers there on the table if you want it.” 

You walked back in to your house and didn’t even see whether or not he was following behind you; but once you heard footsteps on your wooden floor as the door closed, you released a sigh of relief. 

“Nice place—when did you buy it?” You shrugged indifferently as you prepared the couch for him to sleep on. 

“Five months ago. Jaebeom actually lived with me for a while but I accidentally kissed him one night when I was drunk off of my ass and we decided that it was best for our friendship that he lived somewhere else.” 

Although you weren’t looking at him, you were sure he probably wasn’t too happy to hear about you and Jaebeom. Mark was an extremely jealous, overprotective and possessive boyfriend. During your relationship, he was very vocal about how he didn’t like that Jackson would be so touchy towards you and how he didn’t like the way BamBam would try and hold your hand even if it was all in good fun. He also made it known that he was jealous of your friendship with Jaebeom because he felt as if the younger boy harbored feelings for you. 

Mark might have been your boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t develop feelings for anyone else and he was afraid of losing you to his friend. When you turned around to see his reaction, you smiled softly to yourself once you saw his clenched fists and tightened jaw. You wanted him to feel what you felt the minute you found out he was seeing someone knew. You loved how jealous Mark could get; it proved how much he loved you and how afraid he was to lose you. 

“How did you even find out where I live? I’m sure none of the guys told you. They know not to even if I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think you’d come back home and even if you did, I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me anyway.” He took a seat on your couch and you couldn’t help but imagine what life would’ve been like if the two of you stuck together. You never voiced your thoughts to him about living together, but there were times when you’d stay over at his apartment and your heart would crave getting to go to sleep next to him instead of having to go back to your apartment each morning you stayed the night before. 

You couldn’t get over how much he fit in with everything and you soon grew curious about what living with him would be like but it was too late for you to crave for or even think about things like that. You didn’t want to make the situation more awkward than it already was, so you took a seat at your makeshift bar in the kitchen to give yourself a good amount of distance away from him. 

“Your mom gave it to me. I was hesitant on even trying to get in touch with her, but I needed to find you. I needed to talk to you. I came here as soon as I landed. I didn’t even think about the consequences or the fact that you didn’t want to see me. I needed to see you again. Your mom talked to me as if nothing was wrong and she told me to tell you that we should gather with our families and have dinner together. Did you not tell her about us?” You shook your head and refused to look at him in case he were to give you an expression you weren’t ready for. 

“I don’t know why, but I had a gut feeling that you were going to come back to me one day; or at least I hoped and I prayed that you would. I didn’t want to ruin her opinion of you. My mom thinks the world of you Mark. If she were to find out what you put me through, she would’ve cut off all ties with you and made sure I’d never talk to you again. You know she is. You saw how she was with all my exes and a few of my friends. I was afraid of her doing the same with you and I don’t know why. You deserve it, but I don’t know I guess my heart just wanted to believe that one day you’d come to your senses and realize that you still loved me. It fucking sucked every single time she brought you up in a conversation and talked about us getting married not knowing that we were no longer a couple. Sometimes I forgot that I kept lying to her and it almost slipped that I haven’t talked to you in years. I’m surprised your mom didn’t tell her, they go out for lunch one a week.”

“I didn’t tell my mom either. I didn’t think it was anyone else’s business but our own. I knew shit would go down if she knew, and I didn’t want her pestering you while I wasn’t there to stop her. Wait, so—you um—do you still—can you see us getting back together again? I have no right in asking you such a stupid question but you must still want me if you have yet to tell your mom.” 

Honestly, you didn’t know how to respond. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him and that you didn’t want to rekindle your relationship. But that was before he showed up tonight asking you for forgiveness. And you knew you’d never be able to forget what he did even if you did forgive him. Looking at him, you knew you still loved him but you weren’t too sure if you wanted to give him another chance. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you were mentally. Were you really going to let months of therapy, drinking multiple bottles of red wine and finding yourself in bars and clubs trying to get over him go to waste? 

Instead of responding, you made your way to your room to get him some clothes and to give yourself a minute to process the entire situation. You still couldn’t believe that he was there in your house sitting on your couch nor could you even fathom the fact that you were allowing him to stay. What had gotten in to you? If any of your friends were to find out what you were doing, they would be extremely disappointed. 

There was a time that the guys would fight over who would be the best man at your wedding and everyone knew that the two of you were practically made for one another. However, as soon as Mark made the decision to end your relationship, all of your friends looked at him in a different light. If he handle the break up the right way and explained himself, then maybe they would be a little more understanding. He made things even worse when he jumped into another relationship making it seem as if the breakup didn’t phase him at all. 

When you reentered the living room and handed him the sweats and a baggy t-shirt, he quietly thanked you before immediately taking off his shirt. You turned around to prevent yourself from looking at him; during your relationship you would always find yourself staring at your boyfriend in disbelief. For someone with such a skinny frame, he had a nice physique and over the years, he became even more built and if you could see how defined his biceps were with a shirt on, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself when he took it off. 

Although you were mad at him and just this entire situation, you were only human and Mark was always the most attractive man in your eyes. His soft chuckle did wonders on your heart and once you turned around, you wanted to slap the cocky smirk that was now on his face. 

“What’s so funny?” He shrugged. 

“I don’t know why you’re so shy, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment although, if you had the choice you would definitely continue looking. 

“Whatever. Goodnight Mark. My room is right down the hall if you need me. But, try not to.” You began returning to your room until you heard him whisper something you were sure you wouldn’t have heard if you took a few more steps. 

“Please don’t give up on us.” You decided not to make it known that you heard him and that his words were making a mess of your mind the longer they repeated in your head. He was right; it was a bad idea to ask him to stay over. 

He hasn’t even been in your house for half an hour and you were already on the verge of crying. This was all too much for you to take in and you were afraid of what was going to happen in the morning. Your heart was racing a mile a minute and your mind was filled with thoughts of Mark and everything the two of you have been through. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for sleep to take over and soon you were off in dreamland.

“Mark—get over here! Ugh, it was the guys’ idea to come out tonight and they’re the ones who got you piss drunk so why am I having to suffer trying to take care of you?” 

Today was the last day of finals and to celebrate, Jackson suggested the eight of you go out drinking. You should’ve tried harder to coerce Mark in to staying home, but the older boy needed this well deserved break just like the rest of his friends did. Since he took his last final today, you knew he wanted to relax and let loose and who better to celebrate with than your girlfriend and your six best friends? Anyone who knew your boyfriend was completely aware of how much of a lightweight he was. 

Drink after drink, your friends; Jackson and BamBam in particular kept sending beers and shots of vodka Mark’s way and before any of you could think about the negative outcome of Mark taking down soju bombs, his high pitch laughter echoed throughout the bar and you felt embarrassed when you saw practically everyone’s eyes turn towards your table. Mark would not stop laughing to the top of his lungs. This always happened whenever the older boy had a little too much to drink. Normally he was good with his alcohol intake but tonight was a whole other story. 

He didn’t want to seem like a weakling in front of the guys and that’s why you hated going out with your friends whenever alcohol was involved. Jackson and BamBam were infamous for talking the rest of the guys in to drinking till they threw up and because Mark never backed down from a challenge, it normally got him in to a lot of trouble. You decided that it was time for the two of you to go home and when you asked the guys for help, they immediately brought Mark outside and said their goodbyes, but none of them offered to take him home. 

However, they were all pretty drunk off of their asses and you were sure they only invited you out because they knew Mark would get home safely with you around. One of the only things you could do without when it came to Mark was how clumsy and touchy he could get when he was plastered. You called for a taxi and tried your best to hold him up but he kept tripping on nothing and he even ended up falling to the ground and pulling you with him. 

“Mark! What the hell?!”

“Shit I’m sorry baby—why are we on the floor y/n it’s dirty—“ Once all the guys were to get over their hangovers, you knew they wouldn’t hear the end of it. Mark was leaving in less than a month and this was not the way you wanted to spend your last few days with him. 

“I love you y/n. I love you so much—y/nnnnn—you’re so beautiful baby—so pretty—I love youuuuuu-“ You couldn’t help but giggle no matter how frustrated you were with him; he was such a child at heart and it was even more prominent every time he would drink. 

“Mark, stop. You’re drunk.”

“And you’re extremely sexy—what? I’m just stating facts. Baby, say it back. Tell me you love me.”

“Mark—“

“Please. I need you to say that you love me. Don’t forget about me when I leave—please. I’ve been debating on leaving for the longest time—I can’t lose you y/n—you—you’re all—everything—all that I need—to me.” 

His words were slurred, but each word sent a pang of hurt to your chest. He sounded so genuine and even if there was a chance he wouldn’t remember anything in the morning, you knew there was no way you would ever forget the gut wrenching look in his eyes as he begged you not to give up on him. Instead of answering; especially because you were so close to crying at his heartfelt words, you pulled him in to a fleeting kiss. 

Although all you could taste on his lips was the cheap tequila and salt that was on the rim of his shot glass, you found yourself melting at the sensation of his soft lips against yours. This kiss was different than most of the ones shared between the two of you. While most of his kisses were rough and passionate; as if the world were to end and he needed to prove to you how much he loved you each and every single time, this kiss was softer, gentler in a way you were quite used to. 

Especially because Mark’s dominant side came out whenever he was under the influence but you weren’t complaining. It’s as if you could feel what he wanted to say through the kiss. To your dismay, he pulled away right as he began shoving his tongue down your throat and the whimper that fell from your lips made him giggle in to the crook of your neck. 

“I wanna show you exactly what you mean to me. Tonight. Are you alright with that?” If this was any other time, you would’ve said no although sex with Mark whenever one of you were drunk was always such a fun and wild experience. Even more so when both of you had a little too much to drink; but because the time for him to leave was just right around the corner, you wanted to have him to yourself as much as you possibly could. You nodded against his chest and leaned your cheek right against his heart. 

“Hearts are a funny thing don’t you think? Some people say hearts are the reason why we’re alive, but that’s because they haven’t met you. You’re the reason for my existence baby, don’t you dare forget it.” You playfully rolled your eyes and scoffed as you tightened your grip around his lower back. 

“How is it that you’re drunk as hell yet so fucking cheesy. Only you Mark Tuan.” He gave you a wide grin before letting you out from his embrace and tipsily running in to the street. Your eyes practically jumped out of your head at his sudden movement and you made your way towards him. How could someone have so much energy with all that alcohol in their system?

“Mark, get over here! Are you crazy?”

“Yeah, crazy for you! Dance with me y/n.” As silly as he looked, flailing his arms back and forth like a bird, you didn’t want to have to end up in the emergency room because of his drunken antics. He was quick to pout when you tugged at his wrist and pulled him back in to the sidewalk, but he allowed you to do so. Mark might have not been completely there, but he knew not to upset you. Finally after what felt like hours, the taxi driver pulled up to you and your boyfriend and you all but gently forced Mark in to the taxi. 

As you gave the driver directions back to Mark’s apartment and helped buckle him in, he rested his head on your shoulder. He intertwined your fingers together and stole a chaste kiss from the corner of your mouth while murmuring a quiet apology against your lips. Once the driver dropped you both off to Mark’s apartment structure, it took you almost fifteen minutes to drag him up to his unit. 

He fell asleep not too long after you drove off from the bar and you released the longest sigh of relief as soon as you opened his door. You continued the trek to his room and plopped him on to the bed with intentions of changing out of your dress. 

So much for drunk sex. 

You tried your best to remove your make up and change in to one of his shirts as fast as you possibly could in order to make sure he was still breathing, but you had nothing to worry about when you walked back in to his room. He was out like a light. You decided to leave him be, he’d just have to deal with his hungover state once he woke up in the morning. You turned off the lights and found your place next to him. 

Out of habit, you pulled him in to your body and left soft kisses along his face. These last few weeks have been some of the hardest weeks of your entire life and you tried to lie to yourself thinking it was because of school. But deep down you knew it was because Mark was leaving. There was nothing you could say or do to stop him; well, you knew if you were to ask him to stay he would. However, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing you were the reason Mark didn’t get to follow and achieve his dreams. 

“I’m not going anywhere Mark. I’m yours. Forever.” Not too long after that dream, more memories from your past with Mark began popping up in your mind; but why now? It wasn’t like you’ve never dreamt about him since the breakup, but it seemed as if your heart was trying to pressure you in to taking him back. Memories of your first date and how Mark sneaking stole a kiss from your lips as the two of you were eating ice cream to the first time you made love with one another replayed over and over and you wanted to scream. 

You could still hear him whispering sweet nothings in to your ear while he loved on each and every one of your body parts. You could still remember the way he would touch you as if you were a masterpiece. He never failed to make you feel like the most beautiful and ethereal human being in the entire world with just his touch alone. The next dream was one that you had no memory of and you couldn’t put your finger to where you were. 

All you saw were white walls and a bunch of balloons tied to flower baskets. It was then that you heard a soft cry of a baby and when you looked down, there was the most breathtaking little infant in your hands. As you caressed the baby’s cheek, you felt someone running their fingers through your hair and when you looked up, you saw Mark looking at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes. 

This was all you ever wanted from the beginning of your relationship with Mark. To settle down and start a family with him. To have little Marks or mini versions of yourself running around your house. To go on family trips, have family game nights and spend as much time with your little family. As quickly as that dream came, it went with a snap of your finger. 

This last dream was more of a nightmare and although you were fast asleep, you remembered this memory as if it was yesterday. Dropping off Mark to the airport. It had to be one of the worst days of your life. Not only did the car ride feel extremely long, but as soon as you walked with his family and your group of friends to his gate, you felt like you were going to throw up. 

“Hey, don’t cry y/n. I’ll be back. In the mean time baby, take good care of yourself for me please? God, what am I going to do without you? I love you y/n. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll call you as soon as I land. I expect five pictures a day of your beautiful self. It won’t be long until you’re back in my arms again. Until then baby.” 

That was the last time you shared a kiss together; the last time you hugged him and felt his warm embrace. The arms that once were your home was now just a memory. As you watched him walk through security, the cries fell from the back of your throat and you didn’t even realize you sank to your knees until BamBam and Jinyoung joined you on the ground. 

You stood up and attempted to run towards him, but soon the dream changed and you were in the dark. You couldn’t see anything and you felt so scared. This is what your life felt like without Mark. Scary. Pitch black. Empty. Unnerving. 

You ran in circles and began screaming; however, you were no longer dreaming and it became adamant that you were now wide awake and so was the man who was haunting your dreams. Feeling his hands grip at your arms as he started to shake you felt foreign. It’s been so long since he’s touched you, and this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you’d think about having Mark’s hands on you again. You couldn’t see him, nor could you hear him but you were sure he was yelling and trying to break you out of your little breakdown. 

“Y/n, hey, wake up y/n. Y/n, it’s just a dream. Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here, shhh—come here.” You didn’t have the strength or energy to push him away and allowed him to pick you up and rock you back and forth. Since you were still in such a haze, you didn’t even feel the gentle kiss he left on your forehead but you knew that you loved being back in his arms and you were sure you’d allow him to hold you even if you came to your senses. 

After a couple of moments and giving yourself the chance to recollect your thoughts, you sat up and got off from his lap; making your way back to your previous spot in bed. You turned around to face him yet you couldn’t look directly at him. He’d know what you were probably freaking out over just by the expression in your eyes and you refused to let him know that he was still on your mind even after all this time. 

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes; you had nothing to say yet Mark wanted to spill everything. He wanted you to know how much he regrets leaving you, how he wishes he just stayed back if it meant the two of you would still be together, how hearing you scream made his heart sink to his chest and how he didn’t hesitate to run in and check to see if you were okay even if you were to push him away. 

“Are you—are you okay?” When you didn’t say anything, he took that as his sign to leave but right as he began to stand up, you did the unthinkable. It was probably your heart acting for you, but as soon as you felt his lips melding in to yours, you felt your body go up in flames. He didn’t hesitate to kiss back as soon as you brought your lips up to his and he was quick to bring you on to his lap as if the two of weren’t apart for the last two years. 

His lips felt foreign yet all too familiar and you allowed yourself to continue giving in to him. There weren’t any red flags going off in your mind as you thought there would be and you knew that this time was different. Those dreams awoken something inside of you. After getting to experience what your future with Mark would be like, you didn’t want to  spend a future with anyone else other than the beautiful man who was currently kissing you as if his life depended on it. 

It was going to take a while for you to forgive him, but you were willing to give him another chance. It was Mark for crying out loud. You would do anything he asked of you, no matter how stubborn and prideful you were. He pulled away when he felt things were getting too heavy and placed his forehead against yours. You both took some time to catch your breath and he placed his forehead against yours while reaching for your hand.

“Y/n—“

“No. Not right now. We’ll talk in the morning. I want to go back to sleep.” 

He nodded in understanding and allowed you to climb off of his lap. He brushed some of your hair back and gently pinched your cheek as a sign of affection that he used to do to you all the time. Since he didn’t know what you were feeling or thinking in that moment, he intended to make his way back in to the living room but you had other plans. When he felt you reach for his hand and pulled him back in to bed with you, he couldn’t stop the cheeky smile that rose on his face and you wanted nothing more than to kiss that stupid smile away. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I thought you’d want to be alone.” You let out a quick scoff before wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving a soft kiss on his jaw. 

“Well you thought wrong asshole. Don’t go.” His laughter echoed throughout the room causing butterflies to erupt in your tummy. You knew when the guys were to find out what had happened tonight that there was a chance they’d be upset with you, but you didn’t care. Everyone and their mothers knew just how much Mark meant to you and you’d be stupid to push him out of your life forever. You’d sort things out in the morning but for right now, you were going to allow things to progress with the two of you. This was the first time in years that you felt safe and genuinely happy right before you went to sleep and you knew it had everything to do with Mark. As your eyes began to close, his last few words made your heart flutter. 

“You have nothing to worry about baby. I’m here to stay.”

But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends I, I knew you Your heartbeat on the High Line Once in twenty lifetimes, I And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite To kiss in cars and downtown bars Was all we needed You drew stars around my scars But now I'm bleeding 'Cause I knew you Stepping on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy I, I knew you Leaving like a father Running like water, I When you are young, they assume you know nothing But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasing shadows in the grocery line I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired And you'd be standing in my front porch light And I knew you'd come back to me You'd come back to me And you'd come back to me And you'd come back And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

[voidstilesplease]

Fandom/s: Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus

Pairing/s: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Percy Jackson

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Alternate Universe - Mortal, Cheating, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Angst, Bad Decisions, OOC Characters, a significant amount of Taylor Swift references

Chapter 3

But the possibility that Piper knows about it didn't cross her mind. Percy had mentioned being back in town for a few days now, but Piper could not have known that, right? If Piper did, she would have told Annabeth right away because if anybody knows about Annabeth's broken heart pining after Percy all these years, it's Piper. She would've said something.

III.

And soon enough, you're best friends.

Laughing at the other girls who think they're so cool.

/./

Annabeth jerks awake from disturbances originating in the general vicinity of her kitchen. In her half-asleep state, her usually sharp mind turns to a useless mush. So with what mentality she can grasp, she concludes that it's possibly just her cutlery deciding to worm their way out the drawer to skydive to the kitchen floor. Her dream-silly brain likes the image she conjures. After all, not everybody's cutlery would be as adventurous as hers if that should be the case.

Maybe they want to remind Annabeth that they still exist, and she can use them sometimes. Good point, she thinks, but between blueprints after blueprints shoved to her at work, she doesn't have the time to be guilty about using only one spoon for her morning mashed potatoes. Unless it can wash, wipe itself dry, and put itself back to the drawer, she's sticking to her one-spoon-morning routine, thank you very much - that's all she can spare the time to clean.

She squints one eye open and sighs in relief to find that her entire bedroom blanketed in the same comforting darkness that engulfed her to sleep the previous evening. Yesterday morning had been hell. The sun had glared at her accusingly like she had done something wrong by sleeping it through past her alarm after a murderous evening at work. Usually, Annabeth scares people away when she glares at them, so she tried to glare back at the sun, and if she didn't have a degree in architecture and a line of buildings credited to her name, she'd have doubted her own intellectual capacity. She had hauled her ass up from the bed and went about her routine like she'd swallowed an entire pack of Sour Patch in one go. That morning would have sucked completely if it weren't for Percy.

Percy. Who's back in town. For good.

Whom Annabeth is going to have dinner with this evening.

A smile automatically tugs at her lips. In her kitchen, something clatters again, and she sighs. She moves her head to peek up at the alarm clock on the table. It's only fifteen minutes past seven.

She groans.

Now she can hear the blender whirring to life and the unmistakable 'ding' of her toaster. Any sane person who is aware of not having a roommate should already be springing off their bed and grabbing the nearest weapon they can use to bonk the intruder's head.

But Annabeth is used to the intrusion - this is her life now. So, she calmly gets off the bed and folds her sheets. She opens the door to her room and walks the short distance to her kitchen. As the whirring continues, she remembers the first time she woke to the noises. Annabeth wishes she can say that she was calm then, but she wasn't.

She had jumped out of bed, heart drumming so fast in her chest, and took the only item she could find in her room that could bash anybody's brains out - a baseball bat. (She didn't like the sport. It was just a souvenir from a memorable day. Her heart belonged to swimming. Or, though it wasn't clear to her at the time, to a specific swimmer.) As stealthily as she could, she tiptoed on the cold floor to knock someone out who thought they could use her kitchen while robbing her blind.

As it turned out, she had almost bashed her friend Piper.

Piper, bless her, had been unfazed. Not even after seeing the raised baseball bat and Annabeth's wide, frantic eyes. Piper gave her an innocent smile and a chirpy good morning, then went back to chopping celery, ignoring Annabeth's confusion and gaping mouth.

Piper grins as soon as Annabeth appears in the kitchen. "Good morning, Annie!" she lowers the cup of coffee she's holding on the table in front of Annabeth, who immediately reaches for it.

"This smells amazing," Annabeth closes her eyes and inhales. It is why she loves having Piper around for breakfast. She doesn't remember when Piper decided to be her mother, but as long as it benefits Annabeth with cooked meals and non-Starbucks coffee, she's not complaining.

But she can't exactly complain about Starbucks coffee, though. Not when Starbucks brought Percy back to her life - sort of. She realized that if Piper had come yesterday, she'd have missed Percy. But the fates brought Piper to her apartment today so she could meet Percy yesterday. She smiles contentedly at her coffee.

Piper doesn't miss her dopey smile. She raises a brow, pouring the contents of the blender on a tall glass. "Is it that good?"

"No words," Annabeth answers with a silly grin.

Piper draws her eyebrows in suspicion, "Why do I feel like we're not talking about the coffee?"

Annabeth shrugs.

Piper narrows her eyes but lets it go. Knowing Annabeth, it's probably a work-related high. Piper sets her glass of smoothie on the table and sits beside her friend. "Hey, I remember," she says, taking her phone out and starts browsing. "Juniper asked me to show you these." Piper swipes image after image as Annabeth waits curiously. Finally, she passes the phone to Annabeth.

Annabeth takes it and promptly gasps. "Are these for the wedding?" She draws the phone closer to examine the picture. It's of a forest-painted canvas with a man and a woman in the center, holding each other's hands as they walk side-by-side in the middle of a flower-field surrounded by butterflies. Annabeth looks up to Piper for confirmation. When she nods, Annabeth shakes her head in amazement. "That is beautiful."

"I know!" Piper takes the phone from Annabeth, glancing at the picture again before putting it down on the table. "When Juniper sent the picture to me, my eyes goggled."

Annabeth chuckles, "Grover and Juniper commissioned the right artist."

Piper nods in agreement, "And they're even getting it for, like, half the usual price. I suddenly want to get married." She smiles dreamily, reaching for her smoothie.

Annabeth laughs. Jason and Piper have been together since they were in High School. To be fair, they are practically like a married couple - sharing an apartment, sharing bills, considering the possibility of sharing a dog. They've even met each other's parents and got one another's mother or father smitten with them. It's perfectly sensible if they decide to legalize it. With that in mind, Annabeth asks, "So why don't you?"

Piper stiffens, and she briefly averts her eyes before giving Annabeth a wan smile. "He hasn't asked me yet," she says softly, looking away from Annabeth, slurping half-heartedly at her vegetable smoothie.

Annabeth bites her lower lip, mentally reprimanding herself for her careless asking. She didn't mean to poke on touchy subjects. She didn't even know it was a touchy subject at all. "Well," she begins awkwardly. "I'm sure you'll get there anyway." Annabeth offers a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension.

Piper shrugs, "I'm not in a hurry. Jason's it for me." she pauses, then adds with uncertainty, "I just hope I'm it for him."

Annabeth frowns at the statement. "Now that's ridiculous, Piper." She reaches to touch her friend's hand a bit forcefully. She looks her dead in the eyes and says in total assurance. "Jason's head over heels for you, okay, it's almost criminal that you think you're not it for him."

Piper lifts her eyes, a hint of smile ghosting in her pouting lips. "You think so?"

"You're an idiot for even doubting,"

That seems to alleviate Piper's insecurity, at least for the moment, because she smirks at Annabeth. "Yeah, I guess I'm an idiot. Of course, Jason can't get enough of me. I mean, come on."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Piper's weird sometimes.

She happily slurps at her smoothie now, humming a chipper tune. She reaches for the plate of toasts and passes it to Annabeth along with a jar of strawberry jam. Annabeth just watches her with amusement.

They eat in silence for a moment before Annabeth hears a clearing of a throat. She looks up to see Piper looking at her intently. Of course, Piper didn't come into her apartment early in the morning just to accompany her to a lovely, peaceful breakfast.

"…Yes?" Annabeth prompts with resignation. If this is happening -and it is- because it's Piper's business now to harass Annabeth, she wants to get it over with sooner than later. She mentally prepares for the onslaught of Piper's usual intros. But, instead of saying "There's this spa that we should check out," or "Do you remember Mark Castillo from 10th grade? Did you see his Facebook status change to Single last night?" or "We should shop new underwears for you, Annie. What you have are boring me to death", she said:

"How's work?"

That certainly catches Annabeth off-guard. Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

At Annabeth's incredulous expression, Piper says defensively. "What?" she reaches for another toast. "Am I not allowed to ask about your work?"

"You're not interested in my work." Annabeth deadpans.

"I'm asking, aren't I?" Annabeth detects the unspoken 'duh'. "And I know a little about architecture, mind you. I just want to know how you're doing at work."

Annabeth hums unconvincingly, taking another sip of her coffee. She decides to ride along with it. "Well, for starters, I'm up to my neck busy. As always."

Piper nods for her to go on.

"We've contracted a new project for downtown."

Piper hums.

"It's nothing major, but the area is swarming with water pipes -many of which are old ones- so we have to be extra careful with the planning."

Piper nods, "But you aren't the only one working on it, right?"

"No. I have a team." Annabeth confirms.

"So," Piper stretches the 'o', studying the toast in her hand a little too casually. "That means that even if you weren't around, say you went out or something, a whole team is still gonna work on it?"

Annabeth narrows her eyes skeptically, "…I suppose. I'm not the project head." Annabeth answers slowly.

"So…" Piper looks away again, picking at the toast. "There's no reason to cancel Friday night, right?"

Annabeth purses her lips. She sets her cup on the saucer and folds her arms together, "I already said I would go."

Piper blushes crimson and gives up the innocent, interested-in-friend's-work scheme, "I just want to make sure!"

"I'm going, okay?" Annabeth huffs in mild exasperation. "And, if I ever go back on my promise, you have the permission to drag my ass over to the club."

"Deal," Piper quickly agrees. "Do we seal this oath with blood?"

Annabeth shakes her head as Piper starts laughing.

Piper is weird but a wonder. Annabeth is ever so thankful for having Piper as a friend. They have been friends since the 10th grade when the Cherokee girl transferred to Goode. They didn't particularly become friends instantaneously because she came around the school as Drew's half-sister.

Drew wasn't exactly Annabeth's favorite person on campus. She was a cheerleader who penned herself as the queen of Goode High, dated around, and clung to different guys when her grade couldn't even hang on to a C minus. And her face, always caked in make-up, always smiled condescendingly at everybody as if they were lesser beings. She made Annabeth want to punch something. Anything. Drew's annoying face would have been good enough.

When rumors scattered about Drew having a half-sister on campus, Annabeth was sure she'd be a clone of Drew, and Goode High was doomed. Frankly, their school had had enough mini-skirt, crop-top, belly-button girls who thought the ground they stepped on was sacred. Another one to add to them and Goode would have crumbled. After all, what else could they expect from somebody blood-related to Drew? Annabeth loathed her guts.

As it turned out, though, her half-sister hated Drew's guts just as much if not more. Literally.

She proved that during P.E. class in a volleyball game when she purposely spiked the ball straight towards Drew's midsection hard enough that Annabeth was surprised why Drew hadn't spewed her entire digestive system all over their gym court. Drew doubled over, wheezing in pain and yelling about how Piper tried to murder her. The teacher had to give Piper detention since the girl didn't deny the accusation and refused to apologize. When they took out Drew, who glowered at her sister the whole way out, Piper smirked at her unapologetically and waved her goodbye by flicking her fingers and blowing her a kiss.

Annabeth wanted to slow clap and pat her in the back for a job well done. She didn't need to anyway because the matching gleam in their eyes spoke enough for both of them. Piper and Annabeth became good friends, bonding over a mutual hatred of Drew. Then Piper started hanging out with Annabeth's group of friends, and the rest is history.

"You've got to be honest, though, Annie. You love it when I come by." She sips from her smoothie. "Because then, you won't have to eat packed mashed potatoes again."

"I love mashed potatoes," Annabeth says defensively, reaching for a toast and slathering it with strawberry jam.

"No, you don't." Piper also eats her toast with avocadoes. She gestures at Annabeth's food. "I hope you like strawberry jam."

"It's okay," Annabeth chews. It's decent enough, she thinks. Strawberry had been her favorite jam when she was younger, but that has changed now.

"I just thought maybe you should try a different flavor. All I ever see you have is blueberry. I figured maybe you miss your old favorite."

"I don't. Blueberry is everything to me."

Piper probably doesn't mean to sting Annabeth when she mutters, "Took you long enough to realize it, though."

But Annabeth is stung. And Piper is correct.

Blueberry is Percy's favorite. She had never appreciated it until Percy was gone from her life. She just one day found herself picking blueberry jam instead of strawberry at the grocery. Because, somehow, it made her feel closer to him. It was a futile act, but it was all she could cling to.

They ate in relative silence for a while before Annabeth remembers the conversation over the phone the previous day. It's time to question Piper about it. "Hey," she waits until Piper is looking at her. "You wanted to tell me something."

Piper's brows scrunch up.

"Yesterday," Annabeth clarifies. "Over the phone?"

Piper draws a blank.

Annabeth elaborates, "We were talking about Friday night, and I said yes to going, and then it's like you hesitated over something?"

Annabeth can tell when the realization hits. Piper's eyes widen a fraction. "Oh,"

Annabeth stares expectantly.

Piper looks down, breaking their eye contact, "It was nothing," she says with a small voice.

"You're lying."

Piper doesn't deny the accusation, but her eyes remain downcast.

"Piper, what are you keeping from me?" Annabeth asks, feeling that the playful air around them has been replaced by tension yet again. Piper bites her lower lip, only spurring Annabeth's curiosity. "Piper,"

"Annie, I'm sorry." Piper whispers. She raises her head to look at Annabeth with wide, desperate eyes.

"I can't accept your apology if I don't know what it is for," Annabeth's gaze doesn't leave Piper's. They look at each other - Annabeth urging and Piper trembling.

Finally, Piper sighs in defeat and quietly utters. "It's Percy."

Silence immediately follows Piper's statement. Because for the first time in many years, Piper openly mentions Percy's name in her presence.

Annabeth answers, trying to keep her voice level, "What about Percy?"

Piper gnaws at her lower lip, "I've wanted to tell you, but…"

"But?"

Like a dam breaking, Piper begins barraging. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this. I mean, yes, of course, I'm your best friend, but I'm his friend too. And after that-that," she wrings her hands. "I mean, he's been gone for so long, and maybe if I tell you, he's just going to disappear again. He never said anything about not telling you, but I - or, or maybe you're going to disappear this time and I - we can't have any of that, you know? Especially not now. So I decided to wait for the right time, but I don't know if there's ever a right time for anything, really-and, and,"

Piper is talking so fast that Annabeth struggles to catch up. "Piper, you're rambling."

"I know!" Piper whines in frustration. "And I hate to be turned into a blubbering fool, but I… but I want you to know that I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want either of you running away in different directions when the wedding's in a week!"

Annabeth grabs Piper's swinging arms. "Piper," she snaps to get her friend's attention and stop her from ranting anymore. "If you would just tell me-"

"He's in New York!"

It makes Annabeth pause. Well, she knows that. But the possibility that Piper knows about it didn't cross her mind. Percy had mentioned being back in town for a few days now, but Piper could not have known that, right? If Piper did, she would have told Annabeth right away because if anybody knows about Annabeth's broken heart pining after Percy all these years, it's Piper. She would've said something.

But Piper is in her kitchen with a guilt-stricken face. "How long have you known?"

Piper blinks, confused. "You don't sound surprised. Do you know he's back?"

Annabeth nods, "Only yesterday. We saw each other at Starbucks."

"Oh,"

"Piper, how long have you known that he's here?" Annabeth repeats her question, impatient to hear that Piper only actually found out the same day Annabeth did.

But Piper grimaces, hunching in her seat to make herself small. "Since he told Jason that he was coming home," she finally admits. She draws a shaky breath, hanging her head in guilt.

Something inside Annabeth collapses. She leans back in her seat in disbelief, "You all knew?"

Piper quickly shakes her head, "No, not all of us. Only Jason, Grover, and I." Annabeth almost sag in relief to know that she isn't the only one left in the dark about this. "None of us has seen Percy yet, though. He's been busy with the transfer of work location and settling in again. That's also why Friday night is important. He'd be there. For the first time in a long while, we'd be complete."

Annabeth is silent for a period, then nods weakly.

"Do you hate me?" Piper's voice hitches, and when Annabeth turns to her, her eyes are already brimming with tears.

She hates when Piper cries. God, it isn't even her fault that she knows. It isn't her fault that Percy told Jason and Grover, his best friends, and it isn't her fault that Jason told her. Annabeth knows Piper would rather not know. But now that she does, it's not her fault she wants to protect both Annabeth and Percy from each other. Not after what happened years ago between them.

Annabeth stands up and walks over to her friend, who is just about ready to explode. As soon as she opens her arms for Piper, her friend immediately melts into soft sobs. "I'm sorry, Annabeth. I didn't want to lie, but…" her voice catches again, and Annabeth rubs her back to soothe her. Piper must have felt bad about keeping the secret from her, knowing how important it is for Annabeth.

"I don't hate you, Piper. I can never hate you."

Piper sniffles, "I lied to you,"

"You kept a secret." Annabeth corrects. "That's hardly lying. And you did it for a good reason."

Piper pulls away from the hug to look at Annabeth, her eyes still misty from crying. "Thank you, Annie."

Despite herself, Annabeth smirks. "But you owe me a week of coffee and breakfast for this."

Piper laughs, and the heavy atmosphere around them dissipates completely.

/./ curt /./

[mamaskillerqueen]

Maybe a song fic with Ben Hardy to the song "Paper Rings" by Taylor Swift?

A/N: Hi anon!! So, I’m firstly going to apologise for how long this took me to get out. I just haven’t been loving it. I think I started over at least three times. I still don’t think that it’s my best but I do hope that you enjoy it!!

Four Years Ago: 

Is there anything worse than house parties?

If there was, it was house parties where you didn't know anyone. Your anxiety had already gotten the best of you, but to top it off with the only person you knew having left to be a host... this was not your ideal night. 

You'd met Joe the day you moved in next door. Having come a long way from your hometown to take up residency in New York, you were alone to unpack. That included all the furniture you had brought along to furnish your new townhouse just outside of the city limits. You were contemplating just sleeping on the hardwood floor because carrying your mattress up by yourself didn't sound appealing, when Joe came to your rescue.

Since struggling to get the furniture up the stairs, and yelling very loudly "Pivot!" at each other, you'd become pretty close friends. He was sitting on your couch during a FRIENDS marathon one day when he mentioned that his Borhap family was getting together at his later that week. Ben and Gwilym were supposed to be coming into town, and they were all going to be having dinner at Joe's. He extended an invitation and you immediately declined. 

The thing about your friendship with Joe was that he never let you turn down things that you'd later beat yourself up for. He insisted you be at his house, promising it was just a small get together. Somehow you didn't believe him... and here you were, standing in his foyer ready to bolt because this was not what you signed up for. As a good friend though, you elbowed your way further into the house, hunting for the kitchen. If you were going to stay, you were definitely going to need a drink.

"Y/N!" 

If it was possible to slur just a name, Joe was definitely doing it. Despite yourself, you smiled as your friend pulled you into a hug. He was drunkenly telling you how happy he was that you were here, vaguely pointed to his friend beside him but didn't actually introduce you two. Before you could even say anything else Ben, as you recognised him from all the Instagram posts, was pulling Joe away from you.

"Nice to meet you, love." 

He called it over his shoulder, even though you weren't actually introduced. How rude. 

Deciding that he wouldn't notice if you didn't stay, you quickly slipped out the way you came. The house reeked of smoke and sweat and booze, the combination of smells turning your stomach. It was good you were leaving, you wouldn't be missed because everyone was so out of their mind they wouldn't notice. Not to mention, you literally knew one person. He saw you, that was all that mattered. 

The next day you woke up earlier than usual, having gotten to sleep far earlier than you had anticipated. After your morning coffee, yoga, and a shower it was time to adult and go to the grocery. If you could get by just eating food delivered to your door step, you would. That would be the life, however, you couldn't. What even is a delivery expense if the driver doesn't actually see that extra money?

The day was nice, far too warm for being so early but you weren't going to complain. Much. With your purse over your shoulder, you locked the front door and started down the steps. Movement caught your eye on the steps next to you and that was when you got a really good look at Ben. Photos didn’t do him justice. 

Despite the direct eye contact, you completely ignored him as he started to wave. You came to the sidewalk as he was calling your name, trying to catch your attention. Without a word you looked up at him, a brow raised in question.

“Hope we didn’t keep you up too late last night.” 

There was a smugness to his tone that made you roll your eyes. It was a playfulness you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Slept like a baby.”  

You yelled over your shoulder at him, and went on your way. Most of your interactions went like this. A playful banter, and he often left you rolling your eyes. You didn’t see him too often though, only when he was out for a smoke at the same time you were passing by. Joe mentioned that Ben was crashing at his for a while, something to do with work. Anytime you were invited to hang out, you quickly declined. 

There was no way you were getting caught up in that party scene again. 

At least that was what you thought. Joe came by your place, insisting on squeezing in a few episodes of FRIENDS because it had been far too long. There was no refusing that but, that was your first mistake.

He swore it wasn’t going to be a huge gathering. Ben was wrapping up the project he’d been working on the last few months and Lucy and Rami wanted to say congratulations and goodbye before he hopped a flight back to England. You’d already missed your chance to meet Gwilym, and you weren’t going to lie, meeting Lucy sounded like a blast. 

One could always use more girlfriends. Or just a girlfriend, as you hadn’t made any since moving to the city. 

“Fiiiineee...”

The dramatics made him laugh, and despite yourself you laughed too. When the day finally came, you couldn’t help but feel kind of nervous. Even as you knocked on the door, it felt more like the first day of school than anything. You’d been playing this game with Ben for weeks now, almost like a cat and mouse. There was no denying you were interested though. 

If you were being completely honest, you may have completely stalked him on the internet. Probably more than once.... okay, definitely more than once. Something about the playful banter made you want to know him more. The only problem was, you didn't want to lose the light fun you always had when you interacted. We'll just pretend anxiety didn't play a part. 

In very Joe fashion, the party started out just the five of you but quickly developed into quite a bit of people. It was like every friend any of them had ever made ended up at Joe's house. The music was loud, because how else can one dance? They all just wanted to have fun, and sure after a few drinks that was definitely what you were having. You still barely knew anyone but it was a lot more than just one person now. 

Even with all the fun, you felt the need for some fresh air. The backdoor was much closer than the front, with far fewer people between you and it. You'd been back there a few times, loving the fact that your neighbour had a pool. Summer days were always great by the pool but as autumn was giving way to winter, the pool was the last thing on your mind. Or so you'd thought. 

"Hey." 

Ben's deep voice startled you as you closed the door behind you. You were probably a sight as you jumped, clutching your chest as your heart tried to jump out of it. After a moment you caught your breath and took a seat on the lounge chair beside him. 

"What are you doing lurking out here?" 

You were responded to with a laugh as he held up a cigarette. You nodded your head in answer and then turned to look over the pool. Joe hadn't closed it up, saying he was going to have a heater installed so that it was usable all year round. That was something you'd have to see to believe. 

Silence stretched out for a while but it was surprisingly comfortable. Until Ben finished his smoke, that is. He was over the silence, apparently, and ready to annoy you again. He quickly shed his jacket and pulled the beanie off his head.

"What are you doing?"

"We are going swimming, get up."

"Are you insane?" 

"Maybe. Let's go love." 

He had already taken off his shirt and shoes and was working on his belt by the time you gave up arguing. You just sat there and watched him as he dropped his pants. He looked over his shoulder at you once and then offered a wink before jumping into the pool. Clearly, he'd lost his mind.  

"What are you waiting for?"

"Summer, like a sane person." 

"You're so boring." 

The chuckle made your roll your eyes, a comeback wasn't going to help you. You slid from the seat, quickly removed your sweater and pants before quickly jumping into the pool. It was far more freezing than you had anticipated and when you surfaced again you couldn't help but gasp.  

"This was a stupid idea!" 

You were shivering but you weren't alone, no matter how much he tried to hide it. 

 "I didn't think you'd actually do it." 

"You thought wrong." 

 Three Years Ago: 

You were more than surprised to see how quickly your friendship with Ben grew from that night on. He left only two days after the pool night but you didn't go a day without talking. It was weird for you but somehow through the distance you'd grown closer. So much closer that you found yourself hopping a flight to London and crashing on his couch. 

It was that trip to London that ended in a relationship. 

Trips back and forth weren't a rare occasion. You often found yourself in London, and if you weren't there, it was a guarantee to find Ben in your bed in New York.

"I know you were planning on coming back to London with me this week but I've had a change of plans." 

You were laying in bed, the chill of winter crippling your little town house. It was late, the midnight sky leaving just a soft moon light coming through the blinds. You were wrapped up in Ben's arms, your head resting on his bare chest. It had been nearly a year since the party at Joe's house. Nearly a year of being together. 

"And, what kind of change are we talking?"

"I've gotta get a flight home to see my brother. He and his wife are expecting a daughter any day now." 

A smile pulled the corners of your lips up, your eyes transfixed on the finger that was drawing mindless patterns on his chest. He always spoke so fondly of his brother, and he'd been so excited to become an uncle. It was all he'd spoke about since he found out.

"I promised to help paint the nursery." 

You hadn't realised how long the silence had stretched on until he'd spoken again. 

"Sounds like a lot of fun." 

He hummed and silence stretched again. It was so long this time you'd nearly fallen asleep. 

"Come with me." 

You were surprised, the thought of meeting his family was crazy. It was probably way over due but it still made you quite nervous. You still agreed to go, and you both got there with perfect timing. The day you landed his sister-in-law went into labour, leaving the two of you to get the finishing touches done on the nursery. 

It was so much fun, getting to paint the walls and move all the furniture back in. You'd gotten to meet his parents when they dropped by before going to the hospital to meet the baby. It was a great time, and you weren't sure what you had been worried about before. Ben insisted on staying behind and waiting to meet his new niece until she made it home. 

Something about him seemed off after his parents left. He wasn't as excited, it seemed like something was bothering him. You waited until you had everything in its rightful place before you even attempted broach the subject. 

"You wanna talk about it?"

He looked up with a raised eyebrow, as if he didn't know that he was completely obvious about his feelings. For someone who often wanted to hide the way he was feeling, and for being an actor, he was terribly unconvincing.  

"It's nothing." 

Normally, you weren't one to push. When you uttered the same words you wanted enough respect from someone to be left alone for you to deal until you were ready to talk. Today seemed to be an exception.

"It's not nothing. This should be a happy occasion right?" 

It was after the words left your mouth that you felt maybe you were the problem. Maybe he felt as though he wished he hadn't brought you along? 

"Do... is it... I mean, is it me? Do you not want me here?" 

You stuttered as you got the words out and when you finally managed a coherent sentence you were immediately soothed with a 'NO! Of course, I want you here'. He sighed and then motioned for you to follow him. You made your way down the stairs to the kitchen where coffee was immediate set to make.

"I just look at all of this, and you deserve this one day." 

He motioned around the house and as you looked around your brow furrowed. This was just stuff, and with how well his career was taking off, he could more than afford to give you stuff. Not that you wanted any of it. For you, all that mattered was that you had him. 

"You're going to have to elaborate, darling." 

He chuckled at you before explaining further what was bothering him. 

"One day, when it's time for you to have a baby.. if that's what you choose, you should know that your husband is going to be there with you." 

"And you can't provide that?" 

The confusion was clear in your voice as well as on your face. Ben always told you that you were such an open book, and easy to read. You never took that as a compliment until times like these when you wanted to convey your genuine feelings.

"Not if I'm on a set thousands of miles away from you." 

He seemed so genuinely upset but all you could do was scuff at this. When he heard your reaction his head shot up to look at you. Now it was his turn to be confused. 

"I don't need any of this. I need you. It doesn't matter if your thousands of miles away or not. I would marry you with paper rings. All of the ex's, the fights, the flaws, we wouldn't be here. I adore you, if that hasn't been abundantly clear the last year or so. As for the rest of it... we can figure it out as we go. You and me. We got this."

Your shoulder bumped against his, and he couldn't help but break out into a smile. You could tell almost immediately that he felt much better. In return a smile lit up your own face, your head falling to his shoulder as you hugged his arm. 

"I think you're pretty great too, just so you know." 

Present Day: 

The mosh pit that was happening in your stomach was becoming rather annoying. You just wished your baby knew what night and day time were. The clock on the bed side table flashed a ridiculously early time at you, informing you that sleep wasn't happening any longer. 

Nights like this was when you found yourself reminiscing. It hadn't been very long after sitting in Ben's brother's kitchen that you ended up engaged. Even shorter time frame from that you were married. The shotgun wedding was only six months ago, and here you were five months pregnant. Sometimes it all felt so fast but then you looked at the snoring butt head beside you and you didn't mind one bit. 

You found yourself marveling at the fact that when you first met, you kind of hated him, and then you stalked him on the internet, and now you watch him breathe. Kind of crazy how life works out. Who knew moving into that small little townhouse in New York was gonna change your life so drastically, so quickly. Not that you were complaining.

"You're staring darling, and quite frankly it's a bit creepy."

His thick and sleepy voice startled you, making you jump before chuckling. Normally, he would have been laughing with you but he was clearly too tired for that. 

"Can't sleep?" 

"I'll get there eventually, go back to bed. I love you." 

His hand reached over, finding your growing stomach and rubbing soothing circles. They were slow and lazy, but they seemed to do that trick as the summer salts that were happening came to a slow and then a halt all together.

"I love you too. Both of you."