#I really shot myself in the foot with the slow burn

[selenekallanwriter]

Every single time

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #creative writing #writing memes #writer problems #urban fantasy #paranormal romance #am writing #oc ship #why is the gay ship always cooler #I want then to kiss so badly #I really shot myself in the foot with the slow burn #blood moon

[rosie-writings]

You’ve Got my Body, Flesh, and Bone Part Two

Summary: You didn’t think you would let it go this far, but alcohol always gives you the bite to challenge Colby until you’re both faced with the things that keep you from being together.

Warnings: Colby x Reader smut, Angst, Slow Burn, Dom/Sub dynamic, slight Predator/Prey kink, Overstimulation, Bondage, Overstimulation, Subspace

Words: 23.4k

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘The Summoning’ by Sleep Token

Part One

My blood rushed my veins a degree warmer. I looked down the hallway from where I stood in front of the biggest mirror I had ever seen. The girls partied loudly with drinks and music, and they ruined the kitchen with snacks. I walked back over to them.

And that was the only time I broke the law for the next 10 hours.

The only recognizable thing were the messages from Colby that flooded my phone. Other than that, I woke up in a house I had never seen before. My head laid on the foot of the bed and my blanket hung over the edge. At least I was alone. But Tara and the others were not with me. 

I shot up and raced out of the room.

Tana and Brooke were passed out on the same sofa in the living room.

I checked every bedroom and finally the erratic racing of my heart stilled when I found Tara curled up in a dark cozy bed alone. 

What even happened last night?

I scoured the house for a quiet secluded place, and I went back into the bedroom I woke up in. There was a patio and private sliding doors, so I went outside. I didn’t want Tara to know that I was breaking the rule again.

He answered quickly.

”Holy fuck you sould like shit,” he laughed.

”Excuse me? I just drank myself to death and got sick like three days in a row; you can’t be mean to me.”

”No, I think this is the perfect time to be mean to you especially for how much of a lightweight you are. You’re sick all the damn time.”

”Hey! At least I get sick once and then I’m fine; you and Sam rot in bed for two days. How boring is that? That seems more like lightweight behavior to me.”

”Whatever,” he laughed. “Do you really not know where you are?”

”These are Tana’s friends I’m pretty sure. I kind of remember her talking to them, but it was kind of crazy last night, and there were a ton of people here.”

”At least you guys are safe,” he sighed. I didn’t enjoy the warmth that invaded my skin. “I’m suffering.”

”Why is that?”

”What do you mean ‘why is that?’ Now I understand why it’s taken Sam and I so fucking long to go to Australia; this flight sucks.”

“Aw poor you; willingly taking a first class flight to Australia to meet up with friends—“

”Shut the fuck up, bitch.”

”Call me a bitch again—“

”You would like that, wouldn't you?” I gasped in shock; my face flared.

”Not as much as you, you fucking asshole.”

”And who said I would like it?”

”You called me a bitch first, bitch.”

”Wow, now look who’s calling who a bitch.” I sighed in defeat. I took a breath to say something, but he interrupted me.

”You’re doing a poor job at entertaining me.”

”What? I’ve sent you two photos and have answered your texts at any chance I can.”

”Yeah like twice.”

”What can I say, I’m a busy girl.”

”Yeah, busy with partying like it’s the end of the world.”

”You’re one to talk,” I spat back. This time, my voice laced with a whiny teasing tone rather than spite. And dare I say, the joking tasted better in my mouth than the hatred.

I was fed up. I didn’t like how we leaned on one side of the fence anymore; was this uncharted territory really all that safe, albeit uncomfortable? 

“You know what? You’re right. We too will be busy with partying like it’s the end of the world with friends.”

”Aw, that sounds nice. Have fun being so busy partying with bros and fucking bitches.”

“Whoa, no one said anything about that. Got something to tell me about last night?”

”Wouldn’t you love to know.” My skin crawled at the way he sighed my name.

”Oh? Did you break your stupid rule?”

“What? You know about the rule?”

”Tara told on you. Can’t believe you’re breaking rules for me, that's so embarrassing for you.” My hand held onto the roots of my hair for support.

”You’re making me feel gross, I’m going and taking a shower—“

”Or maybe you feel gross from the partying so hard you got sick—“

”Alright motherfucker, when you haven’t drank yourself sick come talk to me.”

”But it’s so fun talking to you now.”

”Colby,” I laughed and groaned his name simultaneously. “Yeah because you’re so bored now, right?”

”Yes I am. At least bring me with you when you shower.”

”Whoa,” I faked a shocked gasp. “At least take me to dinner first.”

”I fucking paid for your rent the past two months, bitch.” 

“Your shower privileges are revoked.”

”No I didn't mean it,” he laughed. 

“Aw, you’re sounding desperate now?” 

“No, just want what you promised me.”

”And what’s that? I don’t remember promising you anything.”

”Entertainment.”

The gravity of the situation yanked my stomach out of its place. I sat in the chair frozen as my body caught on fire. I heard a singular uneven breath on the other side of the line.

He didn’t reroute his words. He doubled down on them with every silent second that passed.

”I’ll see what I can do.”

And I hung up on him before he could get another word in.

With every shaking fiber of my being, I collected myself and tried to get my ass in the shower without passing out. I would never admit to a soul—including my own—that a stupid man made me feel like this. A best friend, at that. 

Completely undressed, I stared at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror that stood in the threshold between the bedroom and bathroom.

I sat on the floor.

I snapped a photo.

I didn’t respond but I didn’t tell him that I did as he told.

I washed the heat in my body out with a chilly shower.

When I got out, I found the crew zombified trying to pull together an edible breakfast. Somehow, someway, Colby’s conversation was the fuel I needed to not tear anyone apart.

This fuel came to a climax that night when a text message revealed itself on my phone.

It wasn’t me, this time, who broke the rules. It was his fault.

I tried to keep the breath in my throat, but it left me quicker than I could hold on. My eyes raced up and down his body, and I didn’t stop myself.

I scrolled to the message he emphasized; the photo of me undressed while I sat on the floor. My vision darkened as my heart beat loudly in my ears.

I very much knew the position I put him in. I needed him to say it; paint the picture for me.

My legs pressed together and I thanked the heavens that I sat in the chair against the window that overlooked the skyscrapers of the city. The girls were lounging. We watched a show and baked cookies. It was quiet time.

And, oh, how I hated how hot my body was. The ache in between my legs should have been illegal, and I took a glimpse at the girls. I couldn’t even make up a lie. Lying was my second language, and someone my first language was annihilated before I even moved to stand up.

My legs moved before my brain processed.

”Where are you going?” Brooke asked. I paused and words left me. Tara gasped.

”Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”

The girls teased me for a moment and I flicked them off.

I still went to my bedroom alone. 

I locked the door.

I sat on the bed. My heart so ferociously worked that I wondered if I lived my last few seconds.

His lack of immediate response told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t messing around. I never pinned Colby as the type of person to mess around with things like this; but I never anticipated him being so quick. So bold with it. 

My uneven breath tangled in my throat as my back hit the bedding. 

Tears welled in my eyes from the amount of desperation that his simple texts alone injected into my bloodstream. Perhaps it was my lack of quick response, or maybe he supernaturally sensed a morsel of my trembling need, but he went gentle on me without my asking for it. My phone buzzed one last time.

And so I did.

After that, Colby and I didn’t speak for a long time.

Perhaps the pressure was relieved, and the visceral irritation I felt towards him and our situationship cooled off for the time being.

He sent me photos and updates here and there, and I ate all of them up. Of course I reciprocated, and the tension between us nearly subsided completely. We were friends—best friends—again, and there was a part of me that was excited to go home and spend time with him and Sam.

When I got home, the excitement turned into nervousness. Butterflies drenched the inside of my organs as I waited for their not-so-distant return from Australia. 

Four days.

When the morning of their arrival greeted me, a snap from Colby said hello with it.

I rolled my eyes at the way my body shuddered. Why did I allow him to swoon me like that?

I replied with finality; see you soon. 

He responded with a black heart.

Two months ago, we all planned for a party at their house because it just so happened to coincide with trips our friends took as well. Friends from other countries and also states visited LA that week, and so Sam thought it would be a perfect end to a month of traveling. He wasn’t wrong. It sounded phenomenal.

Well, it sounded phenomenal before Colby and I became something.

I could see it in his eyes.

I didn’t say a word, a breath of relief washed over me. I wanted to cringe at it; spit it out of my mouth. But his eyes alone felt like a welcome home hug, as much as I didn’t want to come to terms with it, and I decided to give him the responsibility of approaching me and sharing the first word between us in person in over a month. 

Colby didn’t look away from me; that was the problem. He didn’t smile either which should have been a good thing, but it was the alternative expression pulled at his face.

I didn’t think even Sam could take his attention from me.

Maybe if we were alone I would have withstood this staring contest, but we weren’t alone. The music, the voices, the partying was all too much, and even though probably not even a single one of them paid attention to us, I was convinced the world watched our every move. So I caved first.

”You made it back in one piece,” I said as he made his way towards me. He still wore the same flannel and that dumb hat. His eyes flickered to my mouth on instinct. I did talk a bit too low for him to hear in the chaos around us.

”Did you?” He asked me and chills raced across my skin from the unfiltered decibels of his voice. It wasn’t distorted by a phone call.

I also didn’t mean for that flirty smile to lift on my mouth. I shoved it back down with words as fast as it came.

”Does that matter?”

”What?” He gasped but I shook my head. A darkness covered his eyes as they lingered on me even as I broke our stare, and started conversation with other people.

I talked to Sam, to Kris, to friends I had longed to see for quite a while, and we settled in conversation about our trips. In between sentences, I took a glance at Colby, and a pit opened in my stomach when I locked gaze with his darkened eyes. He didn’t even blink. His hat and backpack were now out of sight. He swallowed the sip of his drink he took and I returned my attention to the conversation at hand.

Tara spoke enthusiastically about the night we had at the club that was particularly notable considering Brooke—of all of us who were there—was stood on the table screaming at someone. It never crossed my mind that Brooke would be the one permanently banned from a club in New York City, but I supposed I didn’t know much at all.

From the way Colby's presence ever followed me, surely I knew nothing at all.

I played it off well. His eyes were there when I searched, his back was closer to me as he spoke to people, and he moved from place to place as I did. I didn’t know how much longer we would play this game.

I was long past the finish line, and when we trapped each other in the kitchen with our best friends on either side of us, that was when I realized he had crossed it long ago as well. 

Now, we simply waited.

Maybe it was the alcohol that gave me confidence to challenge him; if often did. But as friends were distracted with their games, their conversations and sharing of substances, I found him there in that hot kitchen. 

“So what, are you second guessing the risk you took in coming back?” I asked him with eyelashes that were heavy. He looked down at me, not smiling.

”What are you asking for if not this?” He asked and the alcohol was the only thing that kept me from caving in on myself from that deep tone of voice.

”I don’t know; you didn’t kiss me when you saw me, didn’t even hug me. I was afraid you didn’t want it.” He laughed with a certain kind of venom on his smile.

”No. I’m just afraid that if I touched you right now, I wouldn’t be able to stop until I made you a mess of yourself lost in your headspace, and I didn’t think that was very appropriate for this party.” My eyebrows shot up as I stared at him in awe. 

“I mean you’ve never ruined a party before so why not do it now?” Colby laughed back at me and shook his head.

”Why should I start now? Why should I ruin my own party?”

”If anything, this is Sam’s party.” He rolled his eyes.

“That gives me even more reason to not ruin it.”

”Whatever,” I sighed as I turned back to the island and grabbed a bottle to pour another drink for myself. “I don’t care. Make me wait.”

”Yeah, I will,” he scoffed. I felt his warmth on my skin as he stood impossibly close to me without touching me at all. “I mean I’ve waited all this time to tear you apart, what’s a few more hours?”

I stared through the alcohol that poured in my cup as my vision blurred with the nasty thoughts he gave me. Then the bottle was out of my hand.

”And that’s enough.” He took the cup from my hand as well.

”What? I’m not even drunk yet.”

“Uh, you think I don’t know you? You’re drunk as hell.”

”You’re an idiot.”

”No, I just know that only drunk you can talk back to me like that.” I stared up at him in frustration. “Fine, take it back.” He held the cup to me. “But I would rather you remember the first time I take my time with you.”

He smiled evilly as I walked away from him empty handed.

It was two hours later when I heard his voice again.

”Sam, you’re going home with her, right?”

”Obviously,” he laughed. “And I’ll either stay with her or Jake until you text me.”

My stomach was in knots. 

It was only two am and the majority of people were gone. I hadn’t gotten as drunk as I anticipated, and Kris and Celina were sober enough to drive back to their hotel. Sam got in that Uber with the girl he introduced me to during Christmas, and then the front door was closed.

Besides the slight mess, the house was exactly the way we left it a month ago.

Only this time, it was silent. Beckoning. 

Colby turned around and faced me, and I stood like a deer in headlights in the middle of the foyer.

When his lips turned up in a smile, as did mine, and when he took his first step, I took off deeper into the massive house.

”What? Where are you going?” He laughed. But I heard his shoes chase me faster than I ran.

”No where! Why-Why are you chasing me?” I laughed back. I skirted around the bar area and through the kitchen. I ran through the room that should have been the dining room, but he was still hot on my heels.

”I wouldn’t be chasing you if you just let me catch you.”

”If you can’t catch me then why do you think you deserve to tear me apart?” His uneven gasp switched the tone of his voice so fast that I nearly had whiplash.

”Oh alright, if you wanna play that way then maybe you should run faster so that when I catch you, you can get a bigger reward.” His smile was gone and his voice reverberated in my bones. I trembled with a desperation to run, run, run and I aimlessly chose my next escape. 

“Colby!” I screamed when he also rounded the corner as scrappily as I did. “Get away from me!”

”Oh that’s not what you’ll be screaming when I catch you.” I knew better than to take the stairs; his legs were much longer than mine. I retraced my steps and took off into the kitchen again. “You’re making this too easy for me,” he sighed.

And he easily cleared the island.

”No! Colby—“

His hands grabbed my waist with an intensity I had never known.

He absorbed the shock from leaping over the island by pushing me back and back until I collided into the wall. 

A hand pinned me to the wall with enough force to convince me that he actually thought I would try to run away. 

He was finally mine, how could I?

He didn’t stop; it was all the same motion from when he cleared the island to kissing me like it was our last. It was always and forever would be like that between us, wouldn’t it? I cried into his mouth as I tasted him for the second time, but this felt like the first. 

He licked into my mouth with fervor and my hands found his neck, his hair, and I yanked him closer as if it were humanly possible. I didn’t mean to moan when he pinned me against the wall so hard that I had nowhere else to go but up. My leg wrapped around his waist, and his hand grabbed the back of the other one to lift me fully off the floor. 

“Colby—“ I quietly gasped his name in choppy breaths. He moaned against my skin as if he tried to say something, but simply couldn’t. My heart pounded from our chase, and this amount of contact didn’t aid it.

The world spun around us until there was nothing but us alone.

”Oh fuck!” I cried when he finally grinded against me. “Holy shit, I always dreamed of how you sounded,” he whispered against my hot skin before he kissed me again and again.

He drank down my moans as he kept a steady pace, and I wish he gave me the second to beg but he didn’t. My hands clawed at his clothes and he pulled them away over and over until he groaned in frustration.

”You are so impatient,” he spat when my wrists hit the wall above my head. 

“Can you blame me, fucking asshole?” I swear his eyes turned black.

”If you’re going to keep talking that way then you better choose a safe word now.” My throat clamped shut. Dizziness overwhelmed me and I tried to stand my ground.

I laughed.

”You really think you can make me use it?”

“You’re going to have to be a bit more convincing, sweetheart.” 

I stared at him dead in those fiery filled eyes.

“No. You should convince me already.” And of course Colby laughed at me.

He didn’t say another word as he all too sweetly kissed my skin. He must have felt the erratic beating of my heart, but he didn’t move furiously nor painfully. I tried to catch my breath as I sat in anticipation over his eerily gentle behavior.

When he unbuttoned my pants, I allowed him to pull them off and I graciously didn’t try to run away. 

“Oh my god—Colby—“

”Shut up,” he demanded and went back to his work. “Just shut the fuck up already and let me have you.”

”Take me,” rushed out of my mouth faster than I could reel in the thoughts. “Take all of me—“ I cut myself off with a gasp when he dropped me. My feet hit the floor, but he still held onto my wrists high above me. Then I looked down and watched as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

”Please-Please just let me—“

”You’re already begging for me?” He laughed. “That’s no fun now, is it?” My knees gave out at the sight of his mocking smile.

I paused, I looked up at him with a wide smile.

”I’m having fun playing along with you,” I said, and apparently it was the wrong thing to say because I was back in my place pinned to the wall with my legs wrapped around his waist.

”Alright, tell me when you’re not faking then.” My stomach twisted when his hand shoved in between us.

”Colby,” I whispered his name breathlessly. Heavy breaths came from his lips, and I couldn’t pull my gaze away from his mouth

Without another word, he pushed inside me, and he didn’t let me catch my breath.

”Colby—“ My voice rose. He didn’t answer me. Instead, he thrusted forward. Again. Again and again. “Colby.” This time my voice shook with weakness. His eyes found mine like he knew. His parted lips pulled in a small fond smile, and his free hand fell from my neck and to my hips to hold me still to the wall.

“Colby!” I finally broke, and my yell mixed with the sound of his body colliding into mine.

”What?” He sighed with a teasing pout in his eyes. “Having an issue with faking already?”

”You just feel so good,” I gasped. He faltered. His eyes glazed.

”Fuck—“ He gasped and hesitated. “The-The way you make me feel—“ He didn’t finish his sentence.

He didn’t change his rhythm and it drove me crazy.

He was too much, not enough; I couldn’t decide.

”How do-How do I make you feel?” I choked. He shook his head as his sanity melted before me.

So he fucked me harder.

”Oh my god—!” I screamed, but his thumb gouged into my side to shut me up. My back arched off the wall, and that was when his voice broke with moans as well.

“Fuck,” he grumbled lowly, and my eyes had to close our else another glimpse of his perfect face would put me in the ground. “I need—Fucking hell—“

”Colby!” I gasped, and when he let go of my wrists, my arms wrapped around his neck.

His arms held me under my thighs and I was whipped around towards the kitchen.

”Holy shit—“ I gasped shakily when my hands hit the island countertop. He stood behind me, hands on my waist.

”Need to tear you apart, remember?” He pulled my underwear to the side and shoved inside of me all over again.

My moans echoed across the granite, and I crumbled at the sound of his uninhibited moans. He was so—

Just so.

Speechlessness. It washed over me with every harsh thrust given. And when his hand met the back of my neck and pushed down, I closed my eyes and relaxed my body to give him all of myself. My fists and nails tore at the granite as if it could splinter, and I pushed my forehead to the chilling slick stone for support.

”Colby! Oh my god—I can’t—You feel so damn good.”

”Holy shit,” I think he mumbled again, and he breathed loudly as he raised my hips more. “Up here, baby,” he muttered gently, and I felt his hand link under my knee. I rested my knee up on the edge of the island so that he could have better access.

I think I blacked out.

I wasn’t sure. 

“Yeah baby, you sound so good let me hear you.” His hands pushed my hips back more, and he reached the pressure point inside of me that melted my vision. I couldn’t hold on anymore and I forgot to act. Why did we act anyway?

This was better than I could ever imagine.

”Colby—“ My voice came off as a warning.

”What?” He spat. I think I mumbled. So, his fingers tangled in the roots of my hair, and he yanked.

I gasped as my back arched and his face came to the side of my head.

”Finish your sentence,” he warned.

”I’m—You feel too good.”

He laughed again.

”I don’t think I can feel too good yet, just wait. I’ll let you know when it’s supposed to good.”

”Colby, I’m going to—“

”You’re not going to do anything except sit here and take it like a good girl.” My voice was caught in my throat. It felt like cotton stuffed in my ears and replaced every coherent thought in my brain. 

There wasn’t a feeling I experienced that compared to it, to this.

”Maybe—ugh,” I moaned as my eyes rolled back from another thrust and scratch of his nails. “Maybe you’re the one-the one who has to be good and-and fuck me like you mean it.“

”Oh my—“ He laughed loudly and pulled out of me.

”I said—“ He spun me around and his chokehold cut my sentence short.

”You’re really going to repeat that sentence?” The deafening weight of his whisper actually twinged whatever courage I mustered. I swallowed tightly, but his fingers squeezed the sides of my neck tighter. My vision blackened.

”I might if-if you don’t…”

”If I don’t what?” I opened my eyes again as I tried to keep myself from passing out. 

”I-If you don’t fuck me like you mean it.” His grip lightened and his thumb dragged across my cheek.

”Look at you,” he mocked sweetly. “You’re such a mess for me already; how do you know I haven’t meant it?”

”I can still talk, can’t I?”

”And is that a problem for you?”

”It will be if you don’t-if you don’t give me everything.”

”Then it sounds like you should get your ass upstairs then, hm? Or can you not walk?”

So, in my stubbornness, I shoved him off of me and waver in my stance. His eyebrows shot up.

“I can walk,” I scoffed. “You’re the one who won’t be able to catch me.” He burst out laughing. 

“I caught you once. This time you’ll just run into my trap, so—“

”How do you know it’s yours and not mine? Just ‘cause I’m not fucking you to hell and back doesn’t mean it’s not my trap.”

”You—Oh my god,” he laughed as I took off. I heard him follow me quickly, and I took three steps at a time; the adrenaline must have caught up with me.

It was flesh and blood after I burst into his room. 

The only light was the orange glow from one of the bedside tables, and my stomach turned with the realization that this was getting real. He slammed the door behind him until the walls shuddered, and I stood in the middle of his room with my back to him so that he could catch me. His hands didn’t touch my skin, no, they yanked the rest of my clothes off without remorse.

I turned around.

He actually allowed me to undress him. I unbuttoned each button of his flannel slowly to test him. I watched him and waited for him to break, but he didn’t. When the soft fabric fell from his ever darkened shoulders—I forgot, it’s summer in Australia—my hands moved to his waistband. His pants were already unbuttoned, so I pulled them down.

My eyes locked with his as I dropped to my knees.

His clothes didn’t hit the ground—they didn’t even reach his knees—before I finally had him in my hand, and had my way with him. His eyebrows furrowed and lips parted with illicit moans pouring from them. 

I didn’t take my gaze off him as I took him in my mouth. 

It took all but two motions, and his head tipped back with pleasure. His fingers found my scalp and I moaned around him.

His moans filled the air that already thickened with a tension, a frantic heat I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t use my hand, no. He grabbed my hair with two hands and I fell into him at will. His hips pushed forward until I couldn’t breathe, and I tasted him in the back of my throat. My eyes rolled back and I pushed the back of my tongue tightly around him. 

Expletives shot into the air as I was the one who quickened the pace. Then he fucked his hips forward with every yank of my hair. 

But, apparently I did too much. Or—

“Alright, baby,” he sighed unevenly. He let go of my hair. “Give me your hands.” So I raised them. He took my wrists in one hand and pinned them back to the bed. I still rested on my knees on the floor, and a high pitched whine escaped my mouth as my body bent backward in a compromising position. “You’ve had so much fun with me, but I thought you wanted me to use you. So be a good girl and relax that throat for me.”

My lips parted, and I looked up at him darkly. His legs stood on either side of me. My head hit the comforter as he thrusted back in.  

“Oh fuck—“ he gasped and instantly, my knees spread and I fell deeper under him. Again, my eyes rolled back and I relaxed. One of his hands still held himself, though, and for that I was slightly grateful, but it took me knocking his leg with my knee for him to take his hand away and catch himself from falling.

In the jostle, he fucked into my throat as deep as he could reach, and I gagged but didn’t push him away. He gasped and looked down to make sure I was fine.

I didn’t know what I looked like, but apparently it was enoguh for him to fuck his hips more and more—

I moaned particularly loudly, and his grip on my wrists tightened to the point where I assumed when I got them back they would be blue with bloody crescent moons in them.

I couldn’t believe the heat in between my legs. I needed something—anything—and I rolled my hips like there was something in front of me that could grant me friction. 

Of course cool air was all I was met with.

”You are so insane,” he gasped as he pulled out of me. I gasped for air and he pulled my hair out of my face. “Get up,” he demanded. “Get up now. I need both of my hands.”

I didn’t utter another word, no; I wouldn’t dare. Not when I knew where he was about to put the remaining of my control of self.

He tossed me to the bed and my head hit the pillows. Before anything else, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above me. I stared at his face in a trancelike speechlessness; his eyes focused on the work of his own hands.

In mere seconds, my wrists pulled and they were so tightly locked in place that I hardly budged.

What caught me off guard, though, was the cold sharpness of the metal cuffs. I didn’t anticipate the pain. I thought my hands would be met with the warm softness of fabric cuffs or something; not a pair that no matter how much I wrestled, I would never escape without his key.

”Colby,” I cried; my voice roughened.

He sat on his knees in between my legs. 

‘Finally,’ his expression seemed to convey. Then he slowed down and took the rest of his clothes off.

“Look at you,” he sighed and I melted under his gaze. He soaked in every ounce of my body. “Your cat and mouse game was so cute.” Chills fell across my body. He crawled hauntingly slowly over me; his warmth grazing my skin. I was so attuned to it that it felt like I held onto it like my only anchor in reality. 

I looked across his body; the warm lighting of the light glowed his golden skin softly, and I wanted nothing more than to touch every inch of it. His fingers raised and touched my mouth. On instinct, I parted my lips, and his fingerprints rested on my tongue.

Oh, I pulled on him. I tasted him, licked them clean even though they weren’t dirty, and I didn’t take my eyes off of him. Then he dragged them down my chin, my throat, and my breath stopped heavily in my chest where they touched next. My stomach rose and fell again quicker and quicker as they reached my belly button and lower, lower—

His eyes looked back up at mine.

”I don’t even have to touch you,” he said. “Can already see how ready you are for me.”

’Please,’ I thought I mouthed, but no sound came from it. His head cocked to the side.

”Can’t talk already? Or are you still faking?” My heart couldn’t keep up. I blinked quickly.

My speechlessness told the whole story.

”And I haven’t even paid the attention to you that I wanted to yet.”

So he leaned over. My eyes rolled back in frustration because what now?

My chest caved in on itself when he came back.

A small wand vibrator sat in his hand. 

“Colby—“ I choked.

”Oh, now you can speak?”

”I-I—oh god—I haven’t—”

”You haven’t what?” It was the calm tone; that’s what it was. That’s what did it for me. A storm was behind his eyes, but the calmness in his tone made every hair stand up on my body. 

“Haven’t used a vibrator in so long—Please don’t—“

”Wait, what?” He gasped, out of character for a moment. “You don’t have one?”

”It-It broke so long ago and I-and I forgot to get another—Oh my god Colby, please don’t—“ His evil smile twisted my stomach with sparks.

”This got a lot more entertaining for me,” he remarked.

And he turned it on.

”Oh my—“ I gasped when he pushed it gently against my aching arousal.

Like that, I swear he brought heaven down on earth.

”Colby,” I gasped his name, and already my arms twisted in the restraints. “I-I’m not going to last long. I literally-I literally already feel like…”

”Like what?” That sweet airy tone should be the one in trouble next. No, it wasn’t fair. 

“So close,” I whined.

”It’s on the lowest setting, baby, and it’s hardly touching you.” Another string of loud moans poured from me. “Fuck, you know I’m not taking it off of you until I’ve had my way with you?”

I nodded furiously.

”Good, then that means I’ll let you come, but the sooner you do, the more orgasms you’ll have.”

Shit.

This ounce of control he gave me was already wasted.

It built in my stomach, and my muscles contracted to keep it at bay, but holy shit, it was too entirely impossible with that look raining down on me.

”Colby, fuck, oh my god, you fucking, oh my—“

”Yeah?” He laughed. His eyes watched my body. He pushed it harder against me. I gasped and my back arched. I wiggled my hips from him, but he pinned them down with his other hand.

It didn’t help that my thighs were tossed over his, and he still kept his firm stance on his knees.

”How close are you?”

”Going to,” I gasped.

”Fine,” he sighed. His eyes watched me and maybe that was what pulled it out of me so fast. Maybe that was the reason my first orgasm crashed into me with such intensity I swore I blacked out. “Holy shit,” he laughed. “Yeah, come so hard for me. Oh my fucking god, you look so good.”

”Please—“ I gasped for air. 

Then, the overstimulation.

It reigned over me without remorse. It wasn’t kind, and Colby was lesser. He didn’t take the vibrator away; he turned it onto the next speed.

I screamed as the burning pleasure turned into pain. His eyes glazed into darkness as they focused on my face.

”You know your safe word.” The challenge still hung on his words. I opened my eyes, and I smiled back.

He turned it higher.

Maybe it was a mistake to challenge him back, I couldn’t decide. This wasn’t a pleasure I was familiar with. We had never met before. His nails made permanent imprints on my thighs to keep them spread. I tried to kick my legs, but he was still so much stronger than me. 

It was the first time that I thanked the gods that their house was big enough to contain the loudest noises.

“Please-Please, Colby please! Holy shit!”

”You are so fucking hot,” he laughed. “But no. I’m not done with you. I thought you were going to be good and take it.”

”I-I am! I did.”

”No, I’m not done yet.”

”Inside.”

”What?”

“Inside, please!”

”I don’t know what you’re asking me for. That’s not a full sentence baby.”

”Ugh! Oh my god, fuck you—“ The words hardly escaped my mouth before he slapped the fuck out of my hip.

”I’m playing nice right now, baby. If you want me to be mean I can be, but you won’t be too happy about it considering you can barely handle this.”

”I need you inside of me, please! Need to be full.”

”There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” I hummed a mixture of whines and moans.

He didn’t let up the vibrator. Two of his fingers accompanied it and pushed ever so slowly inside of me. I ached—writhed and gasped and moved—for more, but only his fingertips teased me.

”You want it that bad?” He asked sweetly.

”Yes, I need it. You-You were already inside of me once! How-How—I need it again.” My voice tore out of my throat harshly. He didn’t even flinch.

”Tell me how much you want me to fill you.”

”I need you so bad I’m going to cry; please! Give me your fingers I need them.”

”Tell me you’ll be so good and sweet for me, and that you’ll take what I give you.”

”I’ll be so-so good for you, Colby,” I whined as my hips shook with another harsh was of overstimulation. His eyebrows shot up as he pinned them down. “I’ll do anything you tell me to; I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”

”Alright, you said you’ll take whatever I want to give you so…”

My breath was taken from me when three fingers pushed into me. He thrusted them in and out with no remorse, and mixed with the vibrations, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I met another high. 

Which terrified me.

Rarely ever did I finish more than once in a single session, but something about the way he touched me promised me another one and another—

Then he found it, aggressively.

”Fuck!” I gasped quietly. My back arched and he used his elbows to keep my legs apart still. “There, there, there,” I whined.

”Yeah? Does that feel so good?” He teased. I nodded quickly. Tears flooded my eyes. “You going to come again?” He asked.

”I-I—“

“Tell me, baby.”

”Yes, I’ll come again.”

He didn’t say anything else. He moved quicker and quicker, and my breathing rose and rose—

He pulled his fingers out of me when my orgasm was two paces in front of me.

”No! Please don’t! I’m—Oh shit—“ My orgasm was ruined on the vibrator, and I shook from the violent sting of it. 

“And that was called punishment for teasing me for so fucking long and making me want you the way I do.”

”Colby,” I gasped. It was a habit at that point.

And just as the overstimulation came with a vengeance, he pushed himself inside of me.

Another wave of moans and noises poured from me, but he didn’t move. I saw it on his face, oh, he wanted to fuck me until I couldn’t breathe, but he waited. He watched, he listened. I writhed on him and humiliation showered on me when I realized he smirked at the fact that I was crying on him without him even moving.

”You’re so pretty when you cry,” he sighed. 

Then he slowly pulled out of me.

”But only when you’re crying on my dick.” And he pushed back in. A gasp ripped from me. He pulled out and pushed back in again, and again.

”You’re-You’re fucking—Ugh, Colby,” I cried, and dragged out his name with a whine.

”Yeah, holy shit, you feel so good,” he moaned and he savored some selfish seconds for himself as he gained speed.

I dug my head into the pillow as he pushed my hips further back. One of his hands pressed against the underside of one of my thighs, and I couldn’t look away from him. His hair began to separate from the heat in the room, and his eyebrows furrowed with pleasure again. I only needed to watch his face to find my pleasure, so I tried to block out the feeling of the powerful vibrator in between us or else I would finish again.

”Colby.” Now I was embarrassed about the amount of times I chanted his name tonight. “I can’t take it, I’m-I’m going to again.”

”Fucking hell,” he laughed. “Again? You’re crazy. No way you can come that many times.”

”You—oh my god—It’s your fault.”

”My fault?” His tone pretended to be innocent. “How is it my fault?”

”You’re such…” My insult fizzled into inaudible moans.

”I’m so what? Do you want to try to finish that pathetic sentence?”

”You’re such-such a cocky asshole.”

”Oh yeah? And who’s making you feel this way?” 

Before I could respond, his hips collided into mine harsher. I gasped and I swore in that moment, my nails tore into the skin of my palms. He fucked me like he meant it. I was to blame for that.

”The-The vibrator.”

”Oh yeah?” He choked a laugh. “It’s making you feel so good, isn’t it?” I only hummed in response because holy shit he nailed that spot inside of me. “God, you’re so close already. Can tell by the way you can’t even talk or look at me. You’re breathing harder and your moans are getting louder—“

”Colby!” I snapped at him, and just as my orgasm hit he pulled the vibrator away. “No,” I gasped, but the tidal wave of pleasure was too steep to ward off.

I writhed through my ruined orgasm with nothing but him inside me unmoving. 

And his cruel laughs filled the air around us and mixed with my moans. 

“You act so tough, like you have something on me, but now here you are crying and coming on my dick like a slut when I’m not even doing anything to you.”

And that was where I drew the line.

”Oh my god,” I gritted my teeth as my senses slowly came back to me. “Fuck you, you motherfucker. You’re such a—“

I knew he was testing the waters in a less confident way. That’s why when his hand met my face it certainly wasn’t hard enough to blush it red, but it was harder than any other time he touched my face. My eyes must have stared up at him wide and bright because his dominance began to melt into concern.

“Don’t act like I haven’t been slapped before.” The astonishment on his face was worth getting in trouble over.

”Jesus Christ, you are such a brat, honestly, I should just tie the vibrator to you on the highest setting and leave you here all night.” I burst out laughing.

”Yeah, like you’d be able to handle that. You wouldn’t be able to listen to me moaning for ten minutes before you’d run in to fuck me.”

”You’d be surprised. Wanna test it? We’re alone in this house.”

The gravity of the situation fell on my shoulders; I clearly was all bark and no bite.

”Yeah,” he laughed as he held my face. “That’s what I thought.”

”I want you to come in me now. Tonight, as soon as possible. I don’t want the vibrator without you.” More expletives rushed under his breath as he thrusted his hips forward. I hummed with him in contentment. 

I was so entirely and utterly full under him that I couldn’t foresee myself wanting anything else, anyone else, like I wanted him. 

“If that’s what you want, then you need to be patient for it.” His eyes searched mine. “I mean, you can be. I already see how hazy your eyes are. You think you can handle much more?”

”I can handle as much as you want to give me,” I rushed out before I could think about what I said. A twinge of question pulled at his face. 

He knew.

Then I understood.

I stopped pulling at the cuffs long ago. I relaxed my hips, the pain was far from me. I was safe and desperate. I didn’t challenge him anymore.

”I’ve got you, okay?” The sudden real and soft tone was jarring. 

“Okay,” I whined, and I inwardly cringed at the high pitched break in it. He brushed my hair back and fucked his hips into mine brutally. 

The pleasure returned like a train and I was strapped down helpless on the tracks. 

His hands wrapped around my waist and held me down as he used me as he pleased. I could only lie and take it, and my eyes closed. I couldn’t handle seeing anything at all anymore. I couldn’t handle hearing; that was thrown out the window a few seconds ago.

My senses were all so overstimulated that I could only handle and focus on the feeling of him viciously claiming what was his. I tried to grab onto something, anything at all, but there was nothing. 

“You’re so good for me,” he whispered praises in between moans. I was sure his hands memorized every round of my skin. “Fuck,” he breathed with another wave of bated breath. “You piss me the fuck off.”

”How?” I gasped. 

“You-You match me,” he grunted as he sat up more. The angle switch shoved a gasp out of me. How can he have a conversation at a time like this? 

“What?”

”I don’t fucking know,” he snapped through a roughened moaned. “You-You just keep up with me and fucking bite back, and-and I’ve been so scared to break that.”

”You-You aren’t,” I whined. 

But he nailed that spot inside of me.

The tears streamed down my burning face.

”You sure?” He laughed. “Because you’re falling apart for me.”

”No,” I cried. “This-This isn’t the bad break.” I was glad he understood because I used the rest of my vocabulary.

How disgusting, vile, wretched; I lost my mind and my sense of self and speech on a man’s dick. How low did he make me swoop? Never in my life did I allow myself such dissonance within myself. Or maybe he caught up with me. Maybe I didn’t swoop down and handed him my autonomy.

Perhaps all this time we kept up with each other, and I handed my autonomy over when he clearly trusted himself to hold it and protect it.

”Oh my god—“ And when he moaned my name, any concern that crept up my bones disintegrated. 

“Please,” I whispered.

”What else do you want from me?” He sighed like it was a burden. Of course I knew it wasn’t actually a burden; he probably fucked me in shock as if he couldn’t imagine giving another layer of himself to me through all this time.

”Just-Just come, I need it. I need you inside of me. Please, fill me up; I want you to come inside of me.”

”Alright—oh shit—Okay baby, you don’t have to beg,” he gasped sweetly as his hand found my face again.

This time, he leaned over me, and as much as I could see it in his eyes—he wanted to kiss me, and I kiss him back—we couldn’t. It felt too good, like too much, and open mouthed moans pushed against my lips, my own breath.

He said my name again; clearly, with more purpose. I watched as his eyes couldn’t stay opened and I didn’t even consider another release for myself. I just needed him. 

“Baby,” he warned.

”Please.” God, I hated begging. “Colby please—“ 

And a hand held my neck and face while the other snaked behind my back. He held me like I belonged in his arms. His open mouthed kisses, nose, and breath pushed against my neck, and his body shuddered when it fully pushed flush with mine.

I think I moaned his name again before a loud moan poured from him. At that point, every touch far surpassed his intentions. Everything he did, he meant it and then some.

A few seconds passed, and those open mouth moans against my skin melted into kisses. I caught my breath, and I still couldn’t open my eyes as if I was the one who found heaven in that minute.

”No!” I practically screamed when he pulled out of me. “Don’t I need—”

”Sh, I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was entirely gentle now, relieved. I opened my eyes. Not a cavern of his eyes elicited another ounce of dominance or frustration. I liked it. I liked that I stuffed those feelings in there and I liked that I was the only one who could yank them out.

What I didn’t wholeheartedly like was the fact that his man decided he could do the same to me.

He kissed down my body, and my breaths caught unevenly as I realized that we weren’t done yet. He wasn’t done.

”Colby!” I cried when his tongue dipped in between my legs. 

“What?” He teased me. My skin crawled from his voice touching it. “You didn’t come with me.”

”Pf, yeah!” I shouted as my hips writhed away from his brutally gentle touches. I felt his breath on me while two fingertips lightly teased up, down, up and down. “But I already did like three times? I don’t remember.”

”Okay, then make this another one you can’t remember.” I hated him. I hated that banter; he always had to one up me, but I would never let him win. “I haven’t even tasted you yet.”

That was a lie; his tongue knew my skin.

I think I moaned his name again, and I didn’t concern myself about the feeling of the fluids slipping from me. He might have caught the mess or he might have let it fall to the bed. I didn’t care about it; I couldn’t admit to anyone except for my own conscience that I liked our mess, and I would bathe in it like it cleaned me.

His tongue met me again, and he moved with my hips this time rather than controlling them. Then his fingers pushed inside. I basked in the feeling of his giving; that was all he did, wasn’t it? How did I not realize it before? I built it up in my head that he took and took without fairness, but there clearly wasn’t a cell in his body cut out for that. 

He ate me like I was made for him. 

I didn’t warn him when he pleasured me through my orgasm. It came without my telling, and he knew it. I knew he knew me thoroughly already. I always knew he was a fast learner. The problem was, he knew when to stop but he didn’t care.

”Colby!” 

“Let go,” he demanded. And when my body screamed at me to obey, I did. I gasped when his fingers fucked me faster than he did a second ago, and I made another mess of us. ”Holy shit—“ he gasped as if he wasn’t sure if he could get me to do it. 

I was sure I chanted his name louder and louder until he finally eased up on me. When his bright eyes met mine, out of defiance, he dipped back down and didn’t break eye contact. He licked up the mess and, this time, pushed his moans against me.

”You taste so good,” he whispered when he finally crawled back up to me.

”Please,” I whined with the remaining of my strength.

”Now what?” 

“Let me touch you.” His eyes flickered to the cuffs.

And he unlocked them.

I thought I would pounce, at least that was my plan, but my arms laid there rendered useless.

”Baby,” he gasped. He didn’t move to clean up. Instead, he lay next to me and kissed my skin. His fingers touched my skin again and again. 

“Sorry—Hold on.”

”Don’t say sorry,” he laughed. “I can’t tell if I did my job well or not enough.” I laughed.

I shook my head.

”What are you talking about? I’m a mess.”

”Yeah, you are,” he laughed at me. “But you almost slipped and then I pulled you out of the headspace. I thought you wanted to.” I shook my head.

”I wanted to stay with you and feel everything you would give me.” His silent answer must have meant contentment.

Then, I opened my eyes. 

I pushed him to his back and he drew in a sharp breath when his head met the pillow. I looked down on him as I straddled him and he looked up at me like he couldn’t dare to blink.

”When is it my turn to make you fall apart?” He actually laughed this time; his smile shined up at me like he wasn’t past the point of exhaustion. It neared four am.

”Tomorrow.” My eyebrows piqued in interest.

”And the next day?” I asked.

”Yeah, and for everyday you think you can get away with it, it adds on to your punishment.” I hated the way my throat tied in a knot.

”Oh okay, so what you’re telling me is to do it for a week?” That was when shock pulled at his face.

”What are you not okay with?”

”You keeping yourself back from me.”

”You just want me to test your boundaries.”

”What am I supposed to have boundaries with you for if you don’t test how strong they are?” I swore his eyes rolled back with something.

”You’re going to kill me.”

I was sure those words alone proved to the both of us what we knew all this time. It wasn’t him over me, it wasn’t me on my knees for him, no. It was us fighting and wrestling the fact that we pulled on each other equally.

And there I was all my life thinking I didn’t have a match. 

“If you’re going to die, then at least I’m the one doing it.”

The nod of his head told me that he agreed and it was the same for me.

I didn’t remember much else aside from sharing the same body with him until the sun rose. 

✧˖*°࿐

Taglist (Comment to be added):

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#colby brock #sam and colby #sam golbach #18+ only #minors dni #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #rosie writings

[quackarl]

YOU BELONG WITH ME; QUACKITY X READER (STRANGERS TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, SLOW BURN.)

A/N: Hiii! I did not realize how hard it is for me to write about friends to lovers until I was writing this. I think I'm better at established relationship stuff, hahaha. But there was an interesting request in my inbox if I could write a Quackity X Reader piece, where the reader is hired by Quackity to edit his videos and Spanish subtitles and such, and proceeds to fall for him somewhere along the way. So, I did that, with a few twists of my own imagination. Be aware, that this story includes usage of alcohol. And it's painfully slow burn at times, hahaha, but that's the beauty of it sometimes.

I can’t remember a time in my life when I have felt more hopeless. Looking for a job really sucks, actually many things suck and I hate how life seems to pass me by, almost even faster when I feel like running out time, almost as if to tempt me to keep count of all the time I waste. Time flies when your life is falling apart, isn’t that what they say? 

I wish it was few days ago when this started, this desperate job-hunt, but it’s been so long now. I need something, and fast.

I see my phone light up, the only source of light in the dark room. I see it’s already 11 PM, which means I have wasted another night staying up thinking about my future and where do I fit, if anywhere. Great.

Besides that, what captures my attention next is that it’s my friend texting me, and they’re not here to chit-chat about the usual stuff we talk about every night, but telling me they have a perfect plan for me that’s worth a shot. I wonder how that’s possible, at 11 on a Monday night, and how do they know it any better than me what’s right for me? We both know that’s a lie, though, they know things about me before I even know them myself.

I demand to know more about this plan. I’ll try anything, that’s for sure. Anything to get my foot in the door in this world, you know? The next thing they send me is a mysterious link. I click on it and see it taking me to an application form. For what exactly? 

I let out a frustrated puff once I read the first line;

“We are hiring! Apply here for the position of ‘Video Editor’ and ‘Translator’ for Quackity!”

Ridiculous. I already feel defeated, rejected, because how would I have a chance, out of everybody else applying? What makes me special? That’s probably one of the questions on the application and I don’t see myself writing anything worth reading over in it.

I text my friend promptly, my will to fight suddenly vanishing into thin air, telling them exactly what I think of this idea, that it’s far-fetched and I’m not going along with it. Still, curiosity, or whatever, is kind of getting the best of me, I can’t lie, as I eye the open application. 

My friend texts me back, full of persistence;

“And why not? You studied editing and you’re good at it AND you speak Spanish which is what they’re looking for. You’re the whole package?! Tell me I’m wrong, you can’t.” 11:06 PM

Well, I can’t argue on that. It’s my power that I did happen to take editing courses, and Spanish courses too, for reasons I wasn’t sure about back then, but now it could all make sense.

I confess to my friend that I’m actually considering filling out the form, but I feel stuck. I don’t know what I would answer to certain questions such as why should they hire me, or what makes me, well, me. I don’t know.

I mentally hit a dead-end as soon as I got to the question of what makes me unique and stand out from the other candidates. I wrote out my first, honest thoughts, and everything the perfect version of me in the perfect world would think or say, if I only was more brave and less insecure. I wrote, a lot of stuff. If I say so myself, it was a good application in the end, with a little humour.

The scary part was to scroll down the page, hit the blue ‘submit’ button, and watch text appear on the screen;

“Thanks for your application and your interest towards working with us! We will be in contact as soon as possible as the recruitment process will proceed!” 

I think I just jumped out of my skin. I want to cringe at the thought of them reading over my application. Can I just not be me for a second, while I try to get over this?

I text my friend the last thing for the night, before deciding I need to sleep this shame off, and maybe tomorrow it all doesn’t matter, and we move on;

“Guess what? I just sent the application. I hope you’re happy now.” 11:25 PM

I watch their text pop up; 

“I am! You’ll be too when they hire you, trust me!” 11:26 PM

Sure, I think, almost wanting to roll my eyes. I appreciate the enthusiasm my friend has for my future when I don’t have any, but I mean, like I said before, this is an insane attempt. I drift to sleep soon after. A total shocker that I was able to even sleep a wink that night. What have I done and what am I doing to myself? 

.

The more time went by, the more all of this felt like a joke I always knew it was. It’s been a week now since I sent the application, and everything almost feels too normal for anything life-changing to happen anytime soon. 

Well, it wasn’t until I checked my email on a Wednesday morning when things started to feel somewhat real and moving again. I had something there waiting for me. An email regarding my application. I imagined it to be a nicely worded rejection, something along the lines of “We would like to thank you for your interest in us and the position you have applied for. Unfortunately, at this point, you are not being considered for this role, blah blah blah.” 

I suddenly felt like I was in fact not fine at all, when I started reading through it;

“Welcome to our team! We were impressed by your application and would love to proceed further with you! Please reply to this email as soon as possible if you are still available and interested in this position.”

What do I do?! I will reply, tell them I’m still interested, right? That I’m ready for things to proceed. Am I? How, or why, am I the lucky one here? I’m not used to claiming first place, I’m usually just a runner-up. But here begins my winning streak, I guess. 

I type a response with shaky hands, then put my phone down. I don’t think I’m actually ready for things to move any faster than I can take, and it’s already feeling like a lot right now, like I’m biting off more than I can chew. But if they see enough potential in me, it’s all in my head. 

Safe to say that it startled me when not even a few minutes later I received a follow-up email, asking me a few more questions, to which I replied to to the best of my ability. Questions such as am I certain I can commit to such schedule in a long run. It was sinking in for me as I was typing, that this really is a one hell of an opportunity that they are offering me, and I need to be the best. There’s no other option.

The next email they sent, it meant all business;

“We are thrilled to hear you are ready to work with us! Would you be free for a call tomorrow at 8 PM?”

Okay, straight to the point. I tell them I’m free and ready.

Except that I didn’t feel so ready anymore when I received one last email;

“Great! We will have Alex call you tomorrow.”

Yeah, I’m absolutely sweating bullets now. I stayed up much later than I had intended that night, mostly thinking about how fast things are happening now, and if I have started something here I can’t end. I typed his name countless times into the internet to see more of him, but it feels like the more I know, the less capable I am of dreaming of the possibilities of what will happen. So I just went to bed. 

. 

The next day arrived faster than I hoped it would. Can I really do this? Am I ready? So many questions and not enough time to figure out the answers. Quite literally, because I lingered in bed the whole day and hurriedly had to jump into my clothes when I eventually got myself up.

It was 7.50 PM when I sat myself down at my desk, ready to take on whatever was coming. Even if it knocks me down once, I will get up twice. No matter what it takes. It didn’t help my nerves when I kept checking and re-checking the time on my phone. Now I just want to get over with it, so I can finally have some peace of mind and not live in the distress for a minute longer. 

Then it was finally 8 PM, sharp. This is a waiting game, I guess. A matter of minutes. 

When the phone finally rang, it was 10 minutes later. The longest 10 minutes of my life, by the way. I’m surprised I didn’t curl up and die within those 10 minutes, that’s what it felt like. 

I give myself a few second pep-talk, clearing my throat, before picking up as nonchalant as I could, acting like I haven’t been sitting and waiting here shaking like a leaf, thinking about if death was more painless, “hi there!”

I mentally cringe at myself for sounding a little too excited and loud, but Alex didn’t seem to mind as he speaks back to me, “hi! Hello. How are you?”

“I’m good, yeah! Nervous, actually, if you can’t tell yet. You?” I’m already starting to crumble and my voice is wavering as I realise that I’m just… me, and he is he. Even as strangers, he’s way out of my league. He is known, adored, watched by millions of people, I am not. I’m average, boring, some would even say. I don’t blame them. So, remind me how am I, out of everyone, here, in this situation? 

I hear him smile into the phone, “don’t be. I’m good, fuckin’ amazing, to answer your question. And just overall, you know…,” he trails off, before taking a sharp breath, “anyway, I guess I’m just here to sort of do a vibe check. I mean, I can tell you’re cool, so there should be no problems there, but—talk to me, about anything. I would appreciate it, though if it was related to the job, but don’t fret too much, okay?”

I now smile to myself too and at the fact that he, first of all, is here trying his best not to overwhelm me, and that he keeps cussing as if he doesn’t care this is technically a business call. I could loosen up a bit too in my own ways. 

“Well, I—first of all, thanks for doing this. I’m really excited about this opportunity,” I ramble until I realize how I’m getting a bit sidetracked here from the question, thankfully he doesn’t point it out, but instead encourages me to keep going, so I did, this time right on subject. I tell him what I can, about myself and my studies that I worked hard for and that would benefit me in succeeding in this job position. He listens every word, throwing in some comments and pleased sounds, as to approve what he’s hearing.

“Wow, yeah, that’s fuckin’ impressive, you should be proud. Not everyone can do it, you know? Like that’s some tough shit if you want to be any good, so I definitely respect what you got goin’ on.”

Why am I now spiraling? Maybe because I can’t recall the last time someone bothered to compliment me on this so thoroughly, and out of all the people possible, it has to be him. I didn’t expect it to actually rob me of words like this.

“Thanks,” I eventually stutter, “didn’t think I was going to hear that, especially from you. It means a lot.”

“Of course, I’m glad it means a lot. I really mean it.”

This is definitely not the kind of vibe I had prepared myself for. I feel like we are already…. bonding? Just a little bit. I feel it more as we keep talking, and one conversation turns into another and then another. I learn something, that he undeniably has a great sense of humour, very witty and likes to laugh, but can also be serious when needed, talk sense into anybody and be the voice of reason. I think it was at least for a good hour that we just exchanged words and stories, and laughed a lot too, of course. I even come out of my shell and tell him jokes, that makes him laugh in turn. 

Before we could get any more in depth, he mutters through a yawn, “I’m genuinely excited to have you, it’s gonna be so fuckin’ great. So, welcome to the Team Quackity—no one says that, I just made that up, I just lied to you—but, I really think you’re gonna do amazing. I think I’m going to put my little best foot forward and head to bed at a decent time, for once. My feet are not little though, like I’m not a fuckin’ gnome or anything.“

We both laugh. It is getting somewhat late and our brains are getting to the stage of tiredness when everything said is suddenly funny. It’s very reassuring to see this human side of him, that he is so easy to talk to and that maybe I was anxious for nothing, and felt the pressure to appear so interesting for nothing, because he made me feel interesting so effortlessly.

And I guess I’m in now, I got the job, judging by his words, that he is excited to have me around in the future. It’s going to take a while to get used to this. Maybe I ever won’t, so he’ll always keep me on my toes. 

”I’ll see—or talk to you soon, I think,” I tell him. 

He doesn’t bother correcting me or himself, “yeah, I’ll see you soon, very soon probably.”

After that all I heard was rustling from his end and a small noise indicating he was getting tired, so we both know it’s time to wrap things up here. Until next time. It made me want to squirm to know there will be a next time.

I still don’t know how I managed to fall asleep that night with a mind running a thousand miles an hour, but I did, eventually. 

. 

It didn’t take many days at all before I already had something waiting for me in my inbox, some work to do. This is what he must have meant by seeing me very soon.

And so the first day of work and then a whole week of work was over in a blink of an eye, and I found myself busy trying to juggle everything. Doing my best was the best I could do, as I spent my days taking everything in and making this my new normal. Speaking of, it will take a while for any of this to feel normal.

I got to put my rusty Spanish skills to use, I even surprised myself with how easy I suddenly found the language I struggled with at a certain point in my life. I guess all it really takes is finding the right thing.

As to what comes to Alex, I barely hear from him. Mostly because this is strictly business, and when we do talk, it’s about work, and even then he keeps it very short. I understand, he’s busy, I’m not his only priority. The one-on-one talk I got to have with him on the phone that one night, when he was supposed to interview me but we ended up talking about anything else, that was one time and definitely won’t be something that happens frequently. Things have changed since then. There has to be some boundaries set of what is appropriate, because after all, I just work for him and not playing any role of a friend.

So, it’s been very independent, lonely at times, doing this job and I don’t know how or who to talk to about it. New job blues, it must be. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. 

. 

I was startled out of my sleep to my phone obnoxiously ringing. Well, it was obnoxious at first to be woken up like that, until I realised there aren’t many people who would call me this early in the morning. 

I make grabby hands for it, until I find it in the midst of the covers, and to my horror see Alex’s name on the screen. It was still there no matter how many times I tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes, confirming I’m not dreaming. This could be pretty much about anything, which scares me. It’s very unlikely for him to call me anymore just to chit-chat about nothing in particular. There has to be something else.

I hesitantly pick up, “hello?”

“Hi! I just wanted to… you know, check in, ask how’s it going?” he sounds way too happy for there to be to bad news. Whew.

I tell him it’s going good and hear the smile in his voice as he seems to be satisfied with my brief answer, “good, I’m glad. I know it might be a shit show at first, like everything’s new, you feel like you’re alone in it—all of that, but you’re not, okay? Like, I really do appreciate the hell out of you and what you’ve done so far. It’s been really great to see it!”

“Thanks. That’s actually what I needed to hear. It’s been a lot of…. change for me,” I feel like I’m flustered like a fool right now, good thing he can’t see it because I must look crazy. I wish I knew better words to express my gratitude for him right now, because it’s exactly what I wanted to hear, especially after feeling low, but I never thought he’d actually say it. Especially not right now on this specific, beautiful morning when I’m still half asleep and oblivious to the world. 

“I’m sorry if I haven’t really been there to show my appreciation more, but I’m genuinely just so fuckin’ busy, or if I’m not busy I’m sleeping or some shit, because as great as I am, I still do need my little beauty sleeps. But, if there’s anything I can do for you, just—you will let me know, right?”

I don’t know where this is coming from and what is causing him to talk to me in such confidence and care. All I know is that I suddenly don’t feel as alone as I did not too long ago.

“Sure. I’m really glad you told me that. Takes a bit of a weight off my shoulders.”

“Of course,” he emphasizes, “I’m glad we’re on the same page. So, what are you doing right now?”

I’m surprised at his attempt to keep talking to me instead of hurrying to go on with his day, like he usually does. I rack my brain for something sensible, if there’s a right answer to his question, “uh—is this a trick question? Is there something I forgot to do?”

He laughs, “no, no, I swear! So, you’re not up bright and early, not a morning person?” 

“Who is?” I chuckle and fight off a yawn.

He groanes as if stretching himself to prove his point, “fair. So, you’re not doing anything? You’re free to—I don’t know—have a little chat?”

Is there something he hopes to discuss, since he keeps hanging on the line? I don’t know for the life of me what that would or could be, or maybe I’m wrong and mean and paranoid and he is just kind enough to call me and initiate conversation after not hearing from me in a while.

“Yeah, sure. Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

“No. Just anything, like fuckin’… why Spanish? Why did you learnt Spanish in the first place? Why did you chose it?”

Great question. I smile to myself, “sounds like you had something to ask me all along.”

And so we fell into a conversation about it, about me deciding to learn Spanish in the first place, me telling him it was more of decision that I made one night when I was bored and couldn’t sleep and thought it was a such a godsent, brilliant idea. And so I applied for those classes that same night, I think I was half asleep and delirious, and the next morning I had to suck it up and face the consequences of my sleepy actions and attend those damn classes. It was surely tough at first, like everything new is, but eventually, with some hard work, I got the hang of it. 

It was over 30 minutes later, when we finally said goodbyes and hung up and then it was silent again, except for his words now echoing in my head, and how he seemed to be very into learning more about me, like he eats, sleeps and breathes that new information.

Now that I sort of have his permission to rely on him if I need to, I want to make the most of it. I mean, possibly, if I ever need it, but on the flip side, I’m aware I’m not here to make friends or connections. We haven’t really even connected more than as people who work together so far, which I understand. Except for those few longer talks we’ve had on the phone, but I think since he’s so approachable, he probably talks like that with everyone. I don’t feel too special yet.

.

Things slowly made more sense and fell into place as it was that same cycle for the remaining of the week and the weeks after. I spent the days sitting at my desk, working. Time flied, for sure. The only thing that made me feel as if the days were dragging, was that I didn’t hear much from Alex. I actually didn’t hear from him at all, except for when I reached out to him concerning work, but other than that we didn’t really talk. I didn’t want to be the one to reach out to him for a casual chat, because it felt inappropriate, unprofessional even.

I definitely got crashed back to the harsh reality from whatever high I had been on when he used to have the time to talk to me. I understand it, but I did kind of crave some human interaction, some communication. Blame it on me and that I’m a people person and that maybe I find him interesting just a little bit. 

I want to know how he is doing and kind of wanted to have him ask me how was I doing too. Well, I am buried in work, that’s how I’m doing. I sometimes too need something, or someone, to share the burden with. I wonder if I’ll always feel this way.

.

Something blaring disrupts my sleep and wakes me up. Whatever it is, it’s too loud for whatever time it is. It’s not my alarm, I acknowledge, but my ringtone. My phone. I recognize that sound. 

It almost hurt to pry my weary eyes open so fast, but I still experience a deja-vu. This sort of feels all too familiar, doesn’t it? Who’s calling me this early? It’s 9 AM on a... Saturday!? I completely forgot it‘s the weekend. That’s what intense work hours does to a human.

“Hello?” I didn’t even try to conceal the sleep in my voice.

“Well, hello to you too,” my oh-so-dear-friend speaks on the line. Right now I feel like I could tell them off, but to be fair, we haven’t talked in a long while. I just realised how long it’s been since I have heard their voice now that I’m hearing it.

I groan groggily, “hi, hello. Cut the chit-chat and tell me why you woke me up.”

I pull the phone away to check the time again on the screen, if I had read it correctly. Yep, 9.01 AM on a Saturday morning. No one should be awake at this hour, especially not me. 

“I was finally able to sleep in today, you knew this,” I keep whining.

My friend just laughs like this is all a joke, “or you could come and have breakfast with me, just like the old times. I work too, so don’t tired-shame me! I love sleep as much as you do, but it’s not every weekend we can do this anymore. You barely even talk to me these days.”

I sigh again, now out of pity, because as tired as I am, they’re right. We really don’t even talk as much as we used to do when we were not busy with work and well, adulting. Life. Ugh.

“Fine,” I eventually agree to it, “you got me. I’ll see you soon then, I guess.”

My friend squeals, “you really gave in already, this easily? I’ll see you soon!”

I stretch my tired body that feels like it isn’t ready to get up just yet. I need a minute, or two, or ten to wake up and I probably have like 30 minutes to an hour to get ready. Definitely enough, even if I stall in bed for a bit longer. And that’s what I’m planning on doing.

I cry out when my phone rings again not even a few minutes later. There’s no way my friend is on their way already. Or maybe something came up and they are telling me I can go back to sleep. Am I an awful person for wishing that? I had a change of attitude when I saw who was calling me.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Long time no see, or talk,” he speaks. It’s Alex.

Why is he calling me now? I’m suddenly feeling way more awake than I did just seconds ago. Yeah, screw sleep. What does he want?

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously, “what’s up?”

“So, something needs to be up for me to call you? I can’t just call you?” he speaks before breaking into laughter, “I’m just fuckin’ around, I’m kidding! Anyway, speaking of that seeing, how—what would you say if I asked if you want to pop a visit to my place? I’d love to see you in person, you know, and I’m in town, I have like no shit to do for once, I’m a free fuckin’ man. If I was you, I’d take advantage of that, but you do you, I guess.”

This is not what I expected in a million years. Even if his house was the only house in this world, I still wouldn’t expect access there. I mean, I’m flattered as hell, but why? I’m sure he has other friends he would rather see—and we’re not even friends, actually.

I guess kindness comes in many forms. He doesn’t really owe me anything, especially letting me to see such a private part of his life like the place he calls home. Just because I’m now a part of his job, an acquaintance perhaps, doesn’t mean he has an obligation to let me see more of him. But, who am I to say no?

I hesitate, before finally uttering a response, “sure—I mean, if you’re sure, then yes. I’d like to, it’s not like I have anything to do.”

Except that I actually do have something to do. The breakfast.

Of course I don’t have the heart to correct myself, not when Alex sounds this excited, “great! So, I’ll be expecting you… let’s say in a few hours? Nothing too crazy. I want to—you know, I usually have a thing that I want to see as many people as I can who I’m working with to kind of, just to see them, makes sense, right? A vibe check, some would say.”

Finally he tells me he’ll text me the address later and there he goes, as the line goes dead and I’m left with my own thoughts. As terrified as I feel, I also do feel a little curious. What’s going to actually happen once I get there? Is this a build-up to something bigger? What will he think of me when I’m not just an ideal voice on the phone, but a real, existing person standing in front of him? 

I call my friend and they immediately pick up, “there’s no way you’re already ready! I’m leaving in a few—”

“No!” I yap, “listen—this is an actual emergency, like Alex just called me and asked me to come over, like he actually wants to see me and I said yes, because I spoke before I could think, so here I am, thinking what the hell I have just done.”

“What? What are you talking about? Like right now? You have to go right now?”

“Like soon-ish, yeah, I mean—should I not? Am I actually going to go?”

“Of course you’re going! In what world would you not go?!”

“So—you’re okay with it?” I ask. I don’t care what anyone’s telling me right now, I still feel stubborn if this is the right thing to do. I mean, there’s a lot at stake here. I could like, say something stupid to him or get all tongue-tied. 

My friend sighs loudly, “I’m saying this as kindly as I can, but shut up. You’re going! I’ll just see you another day! Just tell me how it goes then.”

We talked for a bit more, or more like, my friend talked and I halfheartedly listened. I feel completely unprepared for what is about to happen. Good luck to me. Luckiness is not my strong suit, but it has to be today. 

.

I was finally walking to the bus stop when a drizzling rain started to fall, and it did when I got on and off the bus too. Before I was caught in a storm, I check the address on my phone, and then I’m on my way to my destination.

It was not more than 15 minutes when I had made it, and there it was. In front of me was a really nice apartment building. The dark, cloudy sky made it look even more majestic, as it stood tall and proud. As I walk along the concrete sidewalk, I maneuvered my way to the entrance and right up the few front steps.

I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t as I make my way inside. Thankfully, I don’t see anyone as I step into the well-lit lobby, because I was definitely a sight to see, a bit damp from the rain and looking around like I don’t know where I am.

My heart is still heavy in my chest and my ears in the elevator. I keep tapping my foot whenever I could keep myself still, which was nearly impossible. But I had some time to think; what do I actually do once I’m there? No idea.

I finally make it to the right door and then it’s now or never. Well, it’s not going to get any easier, so I guess I have to go for it. After I gather the courage to ring the doorbell, I hear the lock turn and see the knob twist, and there he is, in front of me.

He has a really nice, contagious smile that I’ve only seen on screen before, but I never saw just how it reaches his eyes, the dark and captivating eyes that reminds me of nice things in life, framed by his long lashes. He looks relaxed, his face a bit sleepy and his hair covered by a black beanie. 

“Hey!” he smiles wide, looking like he can’t stay put in one place much longer either, “it’s so nice to see you! Come here!”

Before I have the time to say or do anything, he pulls me into a warm, welcoming hug. Definitely a good hugger too. His scent fills the air around me, which has a calming effect. The hug was warm like a sweater and a soft, pleased sigh escaped his lips. 

“Hi,” I mumble against him, “it is. I didn’t know you’re a hug person. Noted.”

Alex just laughs, like it was everyday for him, “thanks for thinking I’m an asshole. What, should I just fuckin’… push you like the asshole I am?”

We laugh off any tension, if there ever was any to begin with. See, he’s really funny like that, which makes me think that maybe there won’t be any rough patches today and we will get along fine. When we pull apart, he takes his body heat away with him, and I feel a little chilly again from the rainfall. He steps aside in the doorway and with an excited grin, invites me in, “come on in!”

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I walk past him, “gladly, thanks.” 

God, I need to stop being so formal and boring, and lighten up a little. My head is still hazy, I can’t remember the reason why I am here in the first place. Was there ever such thing? Guess I’ll find out soon. 

He shows me around inside. What I saw in front of me, was a place that was really simple yet modern, very inviting indeed. Lots of tones of grey and white. There wasn’t any clutter in my sight, everything looked squeaky clean and organized. There was a corner that looked like his streaming set-up, that looked more messy than the rest of his place did.

“So, this is my place slash office, where I do work. Hence the name ‘office’,” he tells as he gestures me to take a look around. I laugh, and he seems satisfied at successfully amusing me, as he moves our attention to the living room.

I agape at how spotless it is wherever I look at. There’s no way he does this himself with a schedule like his, or if he does, it’s impressive.

“I’m a clean-fuckin’-person, okay! As you can see. Honestly, my life hack would be just not to do shit. If you don’t do anything, there won’t be a mess. See, it’s fuckin’ easy.”

We both snicker out loud again and he motions at the tiny kitchen, exclaiming, “this is where I cook! I bust my little ass in this little kitchen every day.”

“You do?” I ask, surprised. Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, especially after what he said, so now it sounds kind of awkward, but it’s also kind of funny. I’m just surprised that he seems to be so good at everything. 

He just chuckles, “yeah. I’ll show you someday. Only if you promise to pay attention to the food and not only to my ass, like get your priorities straight first.”

Oh God. Someday? I’m here for the long run? I’m just going to ignore the latter comment. I put my hands up in surrender, “I promise.”

As we laugh again, I wonder how he is truly, effortlessly funny, like a breath of fresh air. I’m sure I haven’t met someone like him before. Now it all clicks why he has such a wide audience from every corner of the world, it’s not hard to find his personality likeable at all. He wears his sense of humor like it’s his lucky charm and it works.

I follow him with my arms tightly tucked on my sides to the living room area, that’s kind of one with the kitchen, like a joint. I must look painfully awkward. 

“And this,” Alex gestures, “is where I kick back and relax. Not too much time for that lately, I’ve been so fuckin’ busy with work.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it. I’m glad if I can make your life a little easier in that spectrum.”

He has a nice view of the bustling city from the window too, something I find hard to divert my gaze from, just to find myself staring right into his eyes when I did.

“You do!” he smiles widely, “that’s why I wanted to see you, actually, to kind of know even more about what you’re all about. You wanna sit down for a second? Can I interest you in a drink?” he pulls his best British accent for the question. Oh, so here’s the part when it gets real, him questioning me. 

I agree and again follow his trail to the kitchen and watch as he pulls out a chair for me. He made it seem like it’s such a nonchalant thing to do, but it strangely made my face feel warm. He didn’t have to do that, but he did. I thank him and sit down. 

“So, what would you like to have?” he speaks behind me.

I eye the kitchen, “honestly, whatever’s the easiest for you.”

I hear him hum and then he is gone. I watch as he walks around the kitchen, opening the fridge and the cupboards. I feel a bit creepy just following him with my eyes, so I sneakily pull my phone out of my pocket and see there’s a text from my friend. I should’ve known.

“What’s going on there? I’m dying to know!” 1:01 PM

I kind of did promise them that I would text them as soon as things progressed or happened, which they really haven’t so far. I’m just kind of lost in the moment right now, taking it all in. 

I mentally shake my head and fight a smile, texting them back that I promise and vow to tell everything later, except that not much has happened yet. We haven’t exactly gotten to the point here, whatever it is.

There’s one thing I can’t deny so far and could talk about forever, which is that he’s really fun to be around. He’s one of those people who can immediately light up a room with his energy, which is what he probably does every time he’s with people. I suddenly feel small in his world. Sure, I’m here right now, sitting in his house, and I’m lucky enough to call myself someone who gets to work with him, but still. I’m just one of the many people that gets to watch him shine from the sidelines. 

I put my phone away once I hear him coming back, and watch as he places a drink in front of me, “for you,” and one for himself “and for me,” and sits down opposite me. The drink is lime green. It looks delicious. I tell him that and shiver as I wrap my hand around the cold glass.

He smiles at me with his pearly white teeth on full display, “it’s fuckin’ amazing. I think it’s so cool, like the shit that bartenders do, mix a bit of that, throw a little bit of that in, and this is one of my many creations. I do feel like a bartender whenever I make this.”

I smile and take a sip. It was amazing. “You make this for everyone?”

He seems stunned, “no, no! I mean, I rarely get people over, we’re all just so fuckin’ busy to dilly-dally, and if I do, it’s work related—you’re work related too, I know, but—it’s a day off for the both of us, so fuck it, why not, you know?”

“Yeah,” I take another sip, “well, I’m glad you invited me over.”

He broadly grins at me from behind his glass, “you already told me that.”

I feel myself getting flustered. I’m not really too good with human interactions or words today.

“I’m just kidding,” he gently laughs, “I’m glad you came over, too. Uh—you—how have you liked everything so far? I feel like I know a lot about you already, but you just—you’re a very interesting person.” 

So, this is the kind of stuff he wanted to talk about? And did he just call me interesting? I’m going straight back to feeling nervous. Meanwhile he takes a sip of his drink too and keeps his eyes on me the whole time.

“Me?” I gulp, “I don’t know whether to thank you or tell you that you’re delusional.”

He just snickers again, there was no hint of real hurt or judgment there, “no, no! Like now, you could’ve told me more, something I don’t know, but it’s almost like you got some secrets, like you’re avoiding some shit. Are you? Every time I try to talk to you, you don’t.”

He holds a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and I’m thinking if I should hold back my words here. Have I been holding back that much? I haven’t realised it, if I have. Maybe I’m just scared of being too much and I don’t want to, well, be too much. I don’t know how deep is too deep, especially considering our work situation-ship.

Just when I thought I somewhat know him, he shows me a new side of him. There’s been a lot of people in my life who’s had their eyes on me, but never cared enough to look closely enough to see me the way I am. At least not in the way I feel I deserve, like I do with him. He seems fairly interested in me, which is the highest compliment, I think. 

“I thought you invited me here just to talk business,” I stutter. 

”We’re not working right now, I already told you.”

His face was content as ever as he leaned on the palm of his hand and listened to me talk. And what did we talk about? Everything. All about me. I found it rather easy to open up to him, once I got started. The only time it didn’t feel as easy was when I was reminded how intensively he’s listening and looking at me. I gulp down my drink and relish the sweet taste.

“I think it’s kind of a fair trade if you tell me something about you next,” it’s my turn to grin at him. 

It was enough to make him crack up, “what is this, a fuckin’ truth or dare? Spin the bottle? You want another drink? I could go for another one. Fuck it, let’s do 10 more! This is fun, I’m having a good time.”

He convinces me to have one more with him. I mean, I can’t leave him now, I think it’s just getting good here. We are having fun, is it a bit too much fun? I don’t know, but neither of us seem to care enough to stop it.

I agree, “sure, I’ll have another and dare you to tell me something next, like how did you pick me? Or was it even you? You had your fair share, now it’s my turn.”

I can play this game too and I’m really interested in why he chose me. All this time I thought it was luck, but was it? What else does he see in me? 

He grabs our glasses, going to the kitchen to work his magic again, with his back facing me. It didn’t take him long, but it was long enough time for a silence to fall over us, except for a few clinks from the kitchen, and enough time for me to wonder about what has happened to far today.

He is so chill, unlike me on the inside. He didn’t make a big deal of us meeting, which is fine. I mean, I do work for him, this is all business, so I don’t know what else I would expect to happen. But I am taken aback he is willing to share so much with me and that it doesn’t seem to phase him much. He is letting me read him like an open book. 

He was way too soon back with our second batch of drinks, “so, you want to know why you’re here?”

I nod coyly. 

He beams and leans back on his seat, resting his arm behind him and fiddling with his glass with the other hand, “I mean, you know everything I need you to know and you’re good at it. You know a lot, you’re very smart and you work hard. I saw your application. And I know you’re very funny, too. You were funny as fuck on the phone when we first talked.”

Oh no. Yeah, that was my tired brain talking back then.

He interrupts me, “no, I think you’re funny as fuck. You should do that more often. Why are you holding back?”

“I don’t know,” I don’t know what I’m actually going to say to this one, “I’m not used to mixing my humour with work, I guess, but glad it works for you.”

“It does, like you don’t need to hold back around me. Be yourself, you know? Like, fuck it. I say stupid shit too, but you don’t think any less of me, do you?”

“No, I dont,” I confess. I’m happy he told me that. He’s giving me the freedom to be me, which I never realised is the greatest thing someone could give you. 

After both of our glasses were empty and we had gone over the stupidest jokes and stories that matter, I think it was time for me to get out. We really had found ourselves talking about everything, from our tastes in music to plans for the future. 

I tell him, “I should go soon, but this was fun! We should do this again—probably not! But if we ever happen to… I don’t know.“ Damn it. I know very well we shouldn’t and probably won’t ‘hang out’ like this again. Stupid me, not knowing when to stop. I’m such embarrassment-prone.

To my luck, he shakes his head, “no, I’d like that! You have a phone, I have a phone, you know, let’s make shit happen. Easy.”

I dodged a bullet right there. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think that us meeting up again would be unprofessional or weird and I didn’t make matters worse.

We get up and I let him lead me to the door. I’m about to step out, but not before turning to see him standing there with his arms spread out for me. A little warmth rushes into my cheeks as we mold together and share a hug for the second time today and he gives my back a soothing rub. 

“Have a safe trip home,” he speaks lowly in my ear.

I watch him return the small smile through the little crack, until the door shuts close with a soft click. I walk back to the elevator, and once I’m certain I really am alone, I pull out my phone and text my friend. I didn’t even realise what I was typing as I was typing it. 

There’s one thing in my mind I need to air out, because the longer it stays there, the more it becomes a secret. And I don’t want to keep secrets from my friend right now, secrets that are confusing me as much as it will confuse them;

“Oh my God. Since when has he become so attractive?” 3:05 PM

.

It didn’t take long at all for my friend to reply, like they had been waiting by the phone, but certainly not for a message like that. For the first time ever, I was honestly scared to see what they have to say this time. I don’t blame them though, I myself even feel a little scared of what I’m feeling right now.

“What?! What did you guys even do? You know this sounds very suspicious?” 3:06 PM

Trust me, I know it’s stupid, but it’s the way he actually cared to listen to me, and, I don’t know, appreciate me like no one has before. I’m afraid no one will understand what I mean, they would have to meet him and be in my place to understand. He is somehow irresistible in every way, the way he talks, the way he listens, both just as important qualities. 

I guess there is no use in explaining myself, but I still text my friend back, trying to find the right words;

“Nothing like you’re imagining, we just talked! But he said some nice things to me, like he finds me interesting, like he’s just a very nice person and he has an attractive personality. I don’t know if that’s a thing but if not then I just invented it.” 3:09 PM 

I know if there’s someone who sees right through me, it’s my friend and I will probably be called out any second now. Just to be clear, I would not mess with him nor this job opportunity. I’m not like that, I just appreciate a good personality, I guess. And I mean, I’m not saying his looks are bad either... but, no.

My friend replies,

“I believe you, but this sounds like so much more. And I’m quoting you now, ‘attractive’?!” 3:11 PM

I wish I would’ve kept my mouth shut, because I don’t think I will ever hear the end of this. I end up finding my way back home safe and sound, which was actually a miracle, considering that I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going or which bus I hopped on, because there was just one thing on my mind. I don’t like Alex like that, but I’m also running out of ways to defend my case. It’s too soon to even think about these things. 

I went to bed early, deciding to catch up on some tv-shows, because I didn’t exactly know what else to do with myself. And sure, I was also texting my friend, telling them it’s not like that and if we can now drop it and move on. I feel too stupid and embarrassed to think about it any longer. So I just got ready for bed and started up a tv-show re-run. Of course I couldn’t pay much attention when I had my friend blowing up my phone and my brain screaming the same stuff at me. This secret can never get out. 

.

The next day, as I woke up, the first thing on my mind was whatever it was that had taken over me yesterday, but other than that it was all the same. I so wanted to text Alex, thank him for having me over. I suddenly felt so very bored of my own life, as I realised that wasn’t going be something we do often, if ever again.

I spent the whole day in bed, just killing time and relaxing, not like I had anything else to do. I could call up my friend, but I honestly still feel a bit embarrassed to talk anything over with them yet. I would rather solve it myself. My feelings, my problem, right?

.

A few weeks have passed. I haven’t talked much with Alex. It’s the same as usual, we have fallen back to the normal ritual, where the only interaction we ever have is strictly work-related talk. 

I, myself have also finally fallen back into my calm state of mind and so has my friend. Everything feels the same it’s always been. Obviously, my friend hasn’t completely let me live it down, but I can live with it. We still occasionally talk about it, or more like, they ask me if I’m okay, because apparently, I sounded so passionate about my feelings and it’s not healthy to brush them off. 

It wasn’t until a few more weeks had passed by swiftly, when I heard from Alex again, on another Saturday evening. My phone was going off, with his name on the screen.

“Hey. Sorry if this was sudden, or whatever,” he quietly speaks to me when I pick up.

“It’s fine,” I assure, “I actually have been waiting to hear from you.”

Was that too much? I feel like that’s one thing that would have been better if it only existed in my head. I was relieved to hear him find the humour in it though.

“Yeah?” I heard him chuckle on the phone, “you’ve been waiting for me like I’m fuckin’ Santa or some shit?”

I laugh too and played along with his usual banter, “oh, yeah. Now, do you have something for me?”

He actually sighs and gets serious, “I have like, bad news and then there’s like, amazing news.”

Oh no. How bad are we talking about? Is it about me? Just when I thought things would go back to normal, whatever normal is. I make a noise to urge him to keep going.

He sighs again, “okay. I’m… going to have to move and leave that fuckin’ amazing apartment behind, that you just saw a few weeks ago. Like, what the fuck? I get it, like life comes at you fast, but like, fuck.”

“What?” I ask him, sounding too disappointed for my own liking, “you have to? Like, this is it? You’re getting evicted or something?” 

He finally laughs lowly, “okay, fuck you. I’m just kidding! No, actually—I got this offer, hear me out, this is a big ass spoiler, but I’m getting a huge sponsorship, which means that the amount of content I have to do for them, and with them, of course, is just so much that it would be necessary for me to live there. At least for now.” 

He keeps on rambling about this opportunity and genuinely sounds like he couldn’t be more excited, meanwhile I don’t make a peep.

“And I figured to tell you now, because I know you’ll be cool about it. I’ll still have work for you to do, so technically this doesn’t change anything for you, but, I mean, fuck it, why wouldn’t I do it?! It’s time for me to spread my little wings and go out there in the big world,” he keeps going while I still remain silent.

“Oh, wow, not what I expected to hear, but that’s awesome. So, where’s the bad news?” I finally say to him, when I don’t hear his voice anymore, trying my best to conceal the lack of excitement in mine. 

“I know right! Those aren’t even bad news, ‘cause like, what the fuck? It’s going to be amazing. I figured I should let you know, ‘cause when you see me filming from somewhere else, just so you know I haven’t been kidnapped, I’m not streaming from someone’s basement. No one’s forcing me to make content.”

Well, that got a genuine giggle out of me. I want to show my support more, but I feel a bit sad about this. I don’t know why. Why do I find it so hard to be happy for him right now? 

I understand that this is really something he wants to do, something that’s bringing him lost motivation back, so what else would I tell him other than ‘yes, it’s a good idea’? Even though it means he’ll be far away in another state, God knows exactly how far, but I can’t be selfish and act all hurt when this doesn’t even affect me. But, how long will he be gone for?

“So, when will I see you again? Not anytime soon, I assume?” Now I’m asking the real questions here.

“I know... yeah, probably not. Shit just happens so fast, isn’t that crazy?”

At least he’s honest. I don’t know and neither does he. There’s my answer. I’m not going to lie, I’m a little upset. I guess we have—I don’t even know how much more—time left, and then everything will change, or not, like he assured, but I think it will all change for us. Maybe not in all the worst ways, but how often does change not hurt at first? It always does. 

.

That bitter feeling didn’t die, no matter how many days I tried to drown it for. There’s still a tiny string in me holding onto the hope that he’s not leaving. I know it’s selfish, I hate it too. I hate how I’m doing this to myself. I’m especially having one of those days today, when I feel like doing nothing, but I have to get work done. It’s just hard not to think about him when my work centers around him, like I really can’t get away. 

I just never thought we would run out of time. Isn’t it cruel how we only appreciate time when there’s not much of it left?

I decide to wrap up work early today. I had sat on my desk the whole morning, staring at the screen and realising that words don’t make sense to me, I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, like this stupid editing program suddenly feels like a stranger. If I’m going to do a crap job, I might as well just not do anything. The deadline isn’t until tomorrow. 

My mind is more occupied with things with a shorter deadline, other things I have to solve before I can immerse myself in anything else that requires complete focus, like the strange feeling I got after hearing him break the news. It shouldn’t matter to me, so why does it feel like it does?

I shut down the computer after saving the little work I got done. I need to look after myself, do the things I used to do and enjoyed doing before all this happened and he came and rocked my world and hopefully I’ll get over it, and myself.

Just out of pure curiosity, I want to know how things are going for him. I’m not trying to get my feelings hurt, but it’s only been a few days, nothing too major hasn’t happened yet, right? The buzzing of my phone jerkes me back to reality. It’s Alex!

“Hi!” I balance my phone on my shoulder, as I finished patting my face dry after a very refreshing shower I just had.

I can hear him clear his throat and speak, “hello. I just woke up, I know it’s like, what, 1PM? Holy shit. Anyway, uh… what are you up to?”

I wonder what is the reason for this call, but I’m not going to ask. I’ll happily take as much of his time as he can give me, before he gets busy with moving and his new life.

“Nothing,” I reply truthfully, “I mean—I’ve had kind of a slow day today. I just—I’ll get back to work later, right now I’m just trying to unwind myself, I guess.”

“Oh,” he replies, “something on your mind?” Oh, you have no idea.

I try to laugh it off, hoping he won’t try to dig any deeper, “honestly, the usual. You know, life.”

To my relief, he just laughs in response, “yeah, me, if anyone, would know about that. Like, fuck—tell me about it! I don’t know at this point if I’m fighting demons, or if I’m the demon.”

We both laugh and it’s so nice even for a few seconds to just laugh with him, and I hate even more what is about to happen to us. 

“Yeah, like I don’t know who prayed for my downfall, but it’s working for them.”

He yawns, “see, you get it! I knew you would.” Except that I don’t…

“Anyway—you’re probably wondering, how am I doing, so considerate of you. Being all worried and shit. I am after all just a baby. But I’m doing great! Uh—I’ll be busy as fuck soon, so...,” he trails off. 

I hum. I know what he means by that, that he won’t have much time for me anymore. “Yeah, I understand,” I tell him, trying not to sound too sad nor too happy. Just neutral, like how I wish I could actually feel about it. 

“Yeah, so, it’s a big fuckin’ step, but I still think it’s a step that needs to be taken, content-wise, because, after all I just want to keep getting better and bigger. I mean, there is no such thing as too big. That’s what I tell myself every time I—okay, I’m gonna stop myself right there.”

He laughs at himself and I stand stunned for a while, until the joke hits me and I laugh too. And… it made me feel flustered. He is just something else. That’s why I like him. As a friend!

“What was I saying? I don’t know, but yeah, it’s happening and I’m excited. So many fuckin’ great things happening. I hope the same goes for you.”

I hum again, since I don’t trust my voice right now, “thanks. I hope so too. I’m really excited for you. Don’t miss me too much while you’re gone.” Just one lie after another. 

“I’ll try not to. I think I should be the one saying that. You don’t miss me too much.”

“Wait, who are you again?”

“Okay, fuck you. Bye.”

We both break into laughter again over the ridiculous banter and hang up. Seems like things are going, and will go, well for him.

I put on a very lazy outfit, since I had no plans to go anywhere today.I had too much time on my hands, so I started overthinking again, and for the rest of the day, it was one thought after another. I wish I could see him one last time, why didn’t he ask to? I mean, I know why. Because we’re not close like that. It was a one time thing, won’t happen again. He probably said that he wants to see me again just to avoid disappointing me and hurting my feelings. They will be hurt either way. 

I wonder what Alex is doing right now, 7PM on a Wednesday night. A text pops up on my phone as I'm scrolling online… from him?!

“Hey! I have some spare time tomorrow, you wanna come over? I kinda owe it to you, but I wouldn’t mind you seeing you either. It’s a fucking mess here but I’m sorry I can’t pack neatly.” 7:01 PM

What on Earth? It seems like for some reason we are in each other’s subconsciousness. I asked for this, but now I feel weird that this is happening. I’m getting what I want and I don’t think I will want it again. I reply;

“Sure! Thought you’d never ask.” 7:03 PM

I slept better that night. Who knows why.

.

The next morning I was up before the sun, bright and early. It wasn’t until the afternoon when I had promised to be at Alex’s place, but I couldn’t sleep and lay still anymore. I’m itching for something to happen, something that involves him and getting to see him, possibly for the last time in a long time.

Then later in the day, it was me going downtown again in the same bus, walking over to the same building. The same elevator ride upstairs. The same long hallway. The same door that already looks like coming home. I shouldn’t get so attached anymore. No more crazy thoughts. 

This time I didn’t even wait around, but rang the doorbell as I pulled my earbuds out. Ironically, there’s nothing but petty, angry love songs on the radio today where someone’s leaving and someone gets hurt. I feel like I have nothing to be scared or nervous about right now. If anything, my feelings should be scared of me, because I’m not going to feel anything. Whatever I felt the last time I was here, I’m over it. 

I heard him turning the lock and there he was, opening the door, all smiles. He looks happy. This time, though, I don’t think I’m alone the reason for it. He doesn’t surprisingly look as disheveled or tired as I imagined, either. In fact, he looks like he has been personally touched by an angel. He is, well, glowing, you could say. Every piece of him.

“Hi!” he ushers me inside, not wasting any time.

I march right inside, “you’re happy to leave.”

He rubs his hands together, “c’mon! I’m having the fuckin’ time of my life! Like—I’ve had good news, c’mon on! Cut me some slack!” He’s so excited to go. Wow. 

If I was him, I would feel more bittersweet, perhaps, but people like him just don’t seem to be having a hard time saying goodbye. Maybe people like him aren’t even supposed to stay too long in one place, like the world needs him as much as I do. Good for him, but sucks for me. He then went off, leaving me by myself, like I’m already one with the house and know my way perfectly around.

I followed him to the kitchen, where it was boxes upon boxes. The living room didn’t look any different. The house looks swept, from what I can see so far. His setup is the only thing that looks somewhat the same, but I can tell there’s things missing, already been put away.

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding, like, this is really happening,” I say, mostly to myself.

This place looks weird and dead now that it’s almost empty, like it’s empty of life too. 

“Yeah! What, are you gonna miss me and shit?” he asks me, amused by the thought, “no sad, happy!”

Then he quite literally places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a comforting rub, before taking off again. I don’t know if it made me feel better or worse.

“I—“

“So,—“

We start at the same time, following by us both saying ’sorry’ in sync. Awkward. But hey, that got us to laugh again. Oh, how I just like laughing with him. I think it’s one of my favourite sounds. God forbid, if he could read my thoughts right now.

“I was just going to ask if I ever get to see you cooking in that kitchen, like you promised?” Way to change the subject. 

Alex gasps with his mouth agape, “no fuckin’ way! How the fuck are you one step ahead of me? I made some of it last night, wondered if you wanna have a bite with me? I mean, of course, you fuckin´ do, right?!”

He starts clapping excitedly, before I could say anything. But the answer is going to be yes, nonetheless. A perfect way to waste some time with him.

In the kitchen, I already knew my seat. It’s the same one I sat on the last time I was here. It felt like personally addressed. I reach for the chair at the same time as he turns to pull it out for me as an act of chivalry. It caused us to knock into each other. Not hard enough to cause an accident, but hard enough to make us both feel embarrassed.

We laugh again, more awkward this time. That was probably the worst fake laugh I’ve ever had to do with him. I sit down and watch as he turns his back to me and takes something out of the fridge.

“This,” he announces, “is my secret recipe, fuckin’ incredible, guacamole.” He brings it to the table and goes back to kitchen to fetch us something to enjoy it with, until sitting down with me. He tells me to dig in, while sitting back and taking off his beanie and running his fingers through his hair. God knows why it made my breath hitch.

When I finally make the move to dig in like he told me to, it’s unlucky he made the same choice at the same time. Our hands touch lightly, before we both quietly apologize and pull them apart like they just had been burned. 

“Relax, it’s all yours,” I tease him.

“Fuck you,” he giggles, a smile creeping in, like he’s glad I broke the tension.

The food was honestly pretty good. I hum in enjoyment, “this is good, you were right.”

He laughs, “I told you. Get used to me being right, if you haven’t yet, it’s about time. I mean, I was right about you, too.”

Is he doing this again, getting all mysterious and sentimental about me? And he does it whenever there’s no escape for me from the conversation, too. I wonder what’s really weighing on his heart. 

I ask him instead, “okay, what does that mean? You always do this.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for my mastermind, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have something here that made me thought about staying, but, you know, it’s not like I’m leaving for good.”

I was on his mind as something that’s worth staying for? There’s not much left he can give me anymore, we’re running low on things to say or do when there’s so little time left, but he never wanted to leave without telling me that. It’s the one last high, before we flatline. 

“You really think so? That I’m that special? I’m sure whatever you will find next is going to be worth it, though. I’ll be fine.” I can only keep lying to myself for so long. I’ll be a mess.

Alex straightens himself in his seat, like he’s about to say something crucial, “you’re so fuckin’ special, like I don’t know who hurt you so that you always have to question it. Like this is not the first time we’ve had this conversation.”

He’s right. But what he doesn’t know is that it’s him leaving that hurts me. Maybe I’m just insecure, because I know I’m always replaceable. But maybe he doesn’t think so. 

He slyly continues, “whatever it is, whoever they are… they don’t matter now. Don’t think about them, just think about us—or me, you know I would never judge you for how you feel. And I even told you already that you mean a lot to me, so what are you scared of anymore?”

“I—,“ I really don’t know what to say, “I don’t mean to make this about myself, but… I guess I was just excited to spend more time with you and now you won’t be here. And I know it, that I was a chapter in your life, but you have a whole book to write. So I don’t know how much space there is anymore to write about me.”

I know better than get attached to people like him. They have the whole world to impress, I’m just one person.

“Damn, that was some deep shit. I was not fuckin’ ready for that by any means, but fine. Fuck it, let’s take the deep road,” he babbles in his usual way, “it’s not like the next time I see you will be awkward anyway, because, you know… I won’t fuckin’ see you. I’ll be long gone.”

I pretend to gasp at the joke and play along, even though the truth behind it hurts.

“But I agree, it’s been great, but, you know, I’m just a call away. And I always, always have time for you, like I’ve already fuckin’ saved you a seat in my mind, so I never forget to keep you in my thoughts. See? That was pretty good, I can get deep in shit too,” he grins almost child-likely and nudges me as he gets up and goes on his merry way to the kitchen, cleaning up the table. 

He seems like he’ll be fine enough, so I feel dumb to push it anymore. I just nod, even against my own will and avert my gaze. Maybe I should stop acting so ungrateful, I still get to keep my job and it’ll almost like force him to talk to me once in a while. It’s not the end of my world. Maybe.

We talk more, this time with me trying to act reasonable. He seems to like and laugh at everything I say. I try my best too to keep a smile on my face and tell him, “I’m sure it’ll be fine and we both make it. I’ll be here rooting for you, king.”

“Thank you so much, thank you. It really means a lot coming from you. I’m glad you seem to feel better.”

Yeah. Surely, I’ll be fine… I’ll fake it if I can’t make it. As he’s cleaning up, he tells me I can feel at home and get some water from the fridge if I want to. Well, I eventually figured I should make myself useful and walked up to the fridge in unbreakable strides. 

He seemed to be finished with the dishes and stepped to his right where I was, and our bodies had another collision, I think this being the worst one yet. Like we’re used to it already and know the route out of the awkwardness, we just laugh it off. I don’t understand what the universe is trying to tell me to do right now, because it seems like every move I decide for myself to make is wrong. 

And there comes that weird tension again. I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to try something here. I would never. But he seems more than fine, and definitely not like he’s internally cursing my name, as he is casually standing there next to me, making these ridiculous expressions and sounds in result of a brain freeze, since the water was pretty much ice cold. It made us both laugh and smile like nothing had happened.

What do we do now? Is this it? I thought as I soon announce that I should leave, before anything else can happen. I make quick work on putting my jacket on and tying my shoelaces, reaching for the door just as he does, and there I find myself bumping right into his side again. 

I suddenly feel the urgent need for the floor to swallow me whole, but since that’s not happening, running out the door seems very tempting. I can’t handle another one of these accidents. I’m so embarrassed. Not the kind of ending I imagined for our story, but I guess it’s better than drowning in tears. Maybe I have a chance in surviving losing him, if this is how I feel.

“Sorry for whatever that was,” I apologize again, God knows for how manyth time today.

He just timidly laughs, not as loudly and lively as he usually does, but it was still a laugh, “it’s okay, you know, it takes two to… fuck up, something like that, right?”

I laugh too now, “that’s true.”

Now we are just standing in the doorway, thinking who’s going to be the first to say goodbye. And I didn’t find it in me to just run out and leave without it. To my luck, he breaks the moment of silence, “so, uh…. I wanna tell you that I’ll see you soon, but I’m actually not sure when I’ll be able to do that. So—I know you understand, right?”

I do. I understand what is happening. It’s almost like it’s finally sinking in that this is it. I don’t know what the future holds. Will I see him again? 

“I don’t want to make any promises, but… I’ll see you at last whenever I’m back, whenever that will be. I’ll talk to you about the new work schedule too, when it’s more topical,” he rants. Yep, at least I get to keep my job. 

I just nod sympathetically, “I understand. Good luck with everything, honestly. I’ll see you someday and in the meantime, we can always talk on the phone.” I feel the need to still remind him that just because he’s not here, doesn’t mean I’m not waiting to hear from him every day. 

“Of course,” he smiles genuinely, so wide that it reaches his eyes, which makes me want to take his word for it.

He then pulls me into a lingering hug, which surprised us both, how there was no hesitation this time to be so close to each other. Sure, my time with him has been short-lived, but it has meant something. Every second mattered and in a matter of seconds time will be irrelevant. Oh, how life goes.

He pats my back, which felt both like a curse and a blessing. It felt too nice to not happen again in a long, long time. Why couldn’t I feel this way when there was still time? 

When he next stares at me from under his long lashes with an unreadable expression on his face, like he’s trying hard to memorize something, I make the move to leave before I fall any deeper into the despair.

It takes a second for him to realise it and to follow me, and now he leans against the doorway, as if he needs something else to cling on to now that I’m out of his reach.

“Go on then, little superstar,” I giggle, “I won’t forget you. Which would be impossible, anyway.”

He starts grinning again, and before he can get too ahead of things and himself, I roll my eyes, “I’m trying to be nice here.”

He gets serious and gives me a more gloomy look before turning it into a smile to almost prevent any emotions spilling, “I know, I know, sorry. Me neither. Trust me.” Trust. That’s what I need, to trust him and let the rest roll off my shoulders.

Soon after we say the final farewells and I watch and hear the door click close for the last time and he is out of my sight for also possibly the last time, at least for a long while. Call me selfish, or a bad person, all of it, but there’s no way he’s actually leaving. I don’t want him to. There’s no way after all that sunshine, it’s now raining this hard. When it rains, it really pours.

Quite literally, indeed, because when I stepped out of the building, it was raining. Ironic. I put my hood on and made my way quickly to the bus stop, staring at the black screen of my phone like any second now he’s going to tell me something, something along the lines of like he has changed his mind. I wiped the raindrops off the screen, they reminded me of teardrops. For some strange reason, I don’t feel like crying at all.

I was already cursing the bus, the bus route, the bus stop. Everything here is going to remind me of him. I can never come back here, unless it’s with him. There’s no way I’m in this deep already, but I am. And there’s no bottom or no one to hold me up this time, I’ll just keep sinking. 

.

The next morning, and the next one, and the next one my immediate thought was Alex, not to anyone’s surprise. The thought of his existence didn’t get me so high as it used to do, since he will now exist so far from me. Just when everything started falling into place. I had already let myself forget the day he’s leaving. Was it yesterday or today, or tomorrow? Or maybe it’s better if I don’t know and will let him leave quietly. So quietly, that the sound of it doesn’t make me flinch. 

I figure I can’t just lay down here in my bed the entirety of my existence or Alex being gone, I have to get back to work and back to, well, what life was like before there was him. But what was my life like without him? I’m not sure I can recall it. 

I realise I could do anything I ever want, but I’m stuck here and there’s a void in me that looks like him. I feel like I’m supposed to just sit on my hands, what else would I do? Later that night I throw myself on the bed again, ready to waste time scrolling through my phone, maybe watch some TV.

I open Twitter and wait as it loads new content for me to see. So, what do I do on Twitter? I do follow Alex, and I see that he hasn’t posted anything new. I also do follow people I find interesting, a few friends, people who have the same music taste and interests as me. I haven’t caught up with the timeline since last night.

The further I scroll, the more I see concerning headlines of news. What the hell is this?

“Another COVID-19 lockdown possible, says experts.”

What’s going on? It says just a few states have been put on high alert, the one I’m in is not included, at least for now. We still get to go about our lives here. I feel my heart sink, thinking about going back to square one. I don’t think we as society can take another one of those. I see it before my very eyes how the news are spreading like wildfire. Everyone is talking about it. It’s all I see and I think it’s all I will see even in my sleep tonight. 

I read until the words didn’t make any sense to me anymore, they were just words of confirming what we all fear. They just made me sick. As the night fell on me, I know I wasn’t the only one in the world who laid wide awake that night. What’s going to happen?

So much for summer plans and so much for possibly visiting Alex or him visiting me. Shit. I just realised what this means for us. It’s the state where he went that’s one of the few mentioned to be prepared to shut down. If only he had never left. 

.

I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s now been more than a few days since I had last seen and heard from Alex, too long when he’s all I think about. I want to know more, ask him how he is. I’m also a little worried, like how he had joked I would be, but now I really am. The world is suddenly not ours to take anymore, so I guess I have a valid reason to be. I text him;

“How is everything?” 1:24 PM

A completely harmless, friendly question. It doesn’t give away too much and he can write me back whenever he finds the time to. 

Instead of doing so, he almost right away was calling me. Even a bigger bargain: I get to hear his voice again!

I picked up the phone expecting him to be in a frantic, excited hassle, but he was calm, it was almost too quiet on his end for someone who’s doing as much as he is. Actually, he didn’t seem to be in a rush at all and definitely didn’t sound as excited as he had the other day. I can only assume he’s tired, that’s the only logic that makes some sense.

“Hey,” wow, he does sound worn-out.

“Hey. I bet you’re tired, so you didn’t have to call me. I just wanted to know that… how are things in wherever you are?”

“No, of course I want to talk,” he assures, “I’m—something happened. I’m sure you’ve seen the news. It’s fuckin’ crazy out there.”

It hits me again. The news that feels like the end of the world all over again. I feel for him. Is he now possibly stuck in another state for longer than he anticipates? 

I sigh, “yeah. I was hoping it won’t mess with you too much?”

“I’m just as fuckin’ caught off guard as you, but… I really can’t go. It’s too bad out there where I was supposed to go to that I can’t go, I can’t risk it. And I don’t want to seem like an ignorant asshole and just take off.”

“What?” I stutter, “I mean, it makes sense, but you mean—where are you right now?”

He lets out a little sad laugh, “I’m still here, in this great apartment of mine, in the middle of all these boxes and all of my shit is packed up, all of it. And now I’m not even going. Think about it.”

He is still here? He never even left? Or more like, he didn’t have the time to leave? He continues before I could get a word in, “I mean, fuck it, I still might as well fuckin’ move to the next block in the spite of having to pack and unpack everything.” 

That made us laugh amidst all of the chaos. I feel bad for him, but it’s a funny thought. But, back to the real topic, he is not leaving after all? What is this universe up to? Did I manifest this unfortunate and unexpected turn of events? I’m starting to feel like I did.

“So, stupid question, I know, but how are you? You never got to leave? I thought for sure you were already gone,” I ask, “sorry, this must be so shitty, I can’t even imagine, and you probably don’t want to answer my stupid questions right now.”

“No, no! I do want to talk, more than ever. I was supposed to leave the day after I last saw you and then all of this kind of happened overnight. I don’t know—I’m just thinking about all the things and shit I don’t get to do now.”

He was so excited just for everything to be called off right before the kick off. I pity him. I’m not exactly sure how to comfort him in times like this, how to say the right things. What even are the right things to say? I know I wanted him to stay, but I never wanted it to happen like this, in a way that drains him of all of his contagious joy.

We talked a long while. Or more like, I let him talk and didn’t wait for my turn to talk. I listened with curiosity and empathy, for as long as he needed. I didn’t fill in the silences, just listened. The last thing he says to me on the phone before we hang up, comes as a total surprise, “hey—you wanna come over?”

. 

And so it went, there I was again taking the same bus downtown to him. I never saw this coming. This looks like a film everyone would love to act in, where the one never gets away, but this is real life. I don’t know how to direct it yet, but I will keep looking for the answers for why this is happening and why he keeps always coming back to me, sometimes even against his own will.

Of course I said yes, when he asked me to come over. 

By the time I rode the elevator, I was fuzzy in the head. This was not supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to come here again, not after we said those goodbyes not even a week ago.

I walked up to his door, and as by some instinct, he opened it before I could even knock. I did a double take, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, it’s him, but... he looks great. Happier, for some reason, even when there’s not much to be happy about, or so I thought. I wonder who made him like that. Whoever it is, consider them lucky. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so serene and beautiful like he does in this light. 

“Hi!” he lets me in, “alright, let’s just forget about the fuckin’ dramatic goodbyes that we had and pretend none of that shit happened.”

He then giggles at his own recollections, so did I. How many times you get this lucky when there is no bye in goodbye? I also still don’t know what is keeping the smile on his face right now. If there is sadness in there, he’s not showing it.

“Yeah, this is pretty fucked. Not to make things about me, but I thought I would like never see you again. Like you’re gonna start a whole new life without me.”

He shakes his head, “not this time. And I mean—I still wanna keep you, I’m not just gonna fuckin’ let you go, no matter what happens. You’re stuck with me, pal.”

“Yeah, literally. You couldn’t get too far even if you tried.” I wonder if he will ever make it out of here. Right now, everything feels impossible. None of us will get out anytime soon.

“Yeah, see?” he grins.

I see some of the boxes in his house are still up, some of them opened and unloaded, as if something necessary has been taken out of them. He follows my gaze and laughs nervously, “yeah, I know, it’s a fuckin’ mess here. And—it’s just that all of these news are fuckin’ with my head, you know? You feel it too?”

I nod. It’s not bad at all where we are, but what if it gets bad here? The only rule is that we can’t exit the state, but that’s already enough to mess up people’s plans. Like his. It’s all ruined for him.

We talk about these arising fears as he guides us to the kitchen and motions me to take a seat. I smile at his thoughtfulness and sit down. He sits across from me, bringing some snacks on the table.

As I secretly watch him there in the brief silence that occurs when we chew on the snacks, I feel the same old familiar excitement to see him and to be here with him. Like I want to fight all the odds that prevents keeping me right here forever. He makes me feel excited about life, especially when we have more promised time now. That’s the closest my words will get to the feeling I can’t explain.

And, he looks... great. Brand new. Attractive, even some would say. Not me, of course… I clear my throat, hoping he’s not catching on to me, “so, you called me here, because… you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I just needed to know that… I still have you. Like no matter what shit goes wrong, I’ll always have you here. Especially now, when being alone is the last thing I want. I can’t even see my friends from other states or from home, in case shit gets worse, but you’re always here, right?” he rambles.

I’m still too a bit freaked out that I now have him here, right here where I wanted him all along, I suddenly don’t seem to know or remember what I always wanted to tell him. I think he just beat me to it. I think we really need each other, especially at times like this when loneliness is almost bound to happen.

“Yeah, of course. As selfish as this sounds… I’m glad you’re still here. I don’t think I was ready to say goodbye just yet,” I didn’t know what else to say to his emotional outburst other than answering with the same concerns. If honesty is what he wants and needs to hear, then so be it. 

“I knew it. I knew you’re happy I never left”, he tries to suppress his usual grin and raises a brow challengingly at me, “you need me.”

I roll my eyes, “what? That’s all you decided to take from that?”

We both laugh at the banter, like we always used to do. I’m glad we are able to pick up right where we left off. It’s like nothing ever happened. Even though I think we are getting a little sidetracked here. 

He adjusts himself in the chair and leans back, crossing his arms as if to appear more intimidating, “what can I say? I have a selective hearing, you tell me you need me and I’m fuckin’ all ears, just like that.”

“I—okay. I didn’t say I need you, I’m just happy you’re still here. I know, it’s probably weird for me to say this—“

At this point I felt like I was squirming in my seat under his gaze. Why is he doing this, almost obsessed with the idea of me needing him?

“Hey, no. I’m sorry if I went too far joking about it and making you feel like it’s weird. It’s not. I feel very… fuckin’ happy you think so highly of me.”

We talk more, and I learn that the news of the possible COVID-19 outbreak, even if it’s not happening here, has really messed with him and I understand a little better why he is being like this. No one wants to feel isolated and alone and he seems to be holding onto me now more than ever. I understand him, but it will change us. For worse or for better, nobody knows.

“Anything else before I go?”

“Actually, yeah. I have a few friends pop over in a few days. You should come too,” he tells me like it’s nothing and like he has already made up my mind for me.

“Oh?” I ask with genuine surprise, “are you sure? Do you really thinks it’s a good idea for me to meet them?”

“Of course! I think it’d be fuckin’ awesome! They’ve been in the city for a few days now, they’re not coming from another state, so it’s all good, all safe.“

“Okay.”

He grins happily, “great!”

What am I getting myself into here? I need to think things through when I get home. He walks me to the door not soon after that. I thought to open the door and walk myself out, but he had the same thought to open it for me, causing us to collide with each other again. This is such a deja vu, but I didn’t remember how awkward it exactly is.

“Yeah, that’s it. I’ll stop being a gentleman right at this fuckin’ second,” he laughs. I laugh too, because as awkward as it is, he makes it funny.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now, before you jump at me again,” I finally make the move to leave. 

“Uh—excuse me!” he yells after me, “it takes two! It takes two, pal!”

I keep backing away until I’m so far from him, that we pretty much have to yell to make ourselves heard in this hallway, before waving him goodbye. I made some quick strides to the elevator, it was waiting for me on the same floor as if to rescue me. What is he doing to me and why is it working? And why do I kind of like it?

.

So, how do I actually feel about Alex inviting me over with his friends there? The thought of it seemed to excite him greatly, but I, on the other hand, am not sure if I can reciprocate his feelings. I do like hanging out with him doing nothing, but when you throw other people in the mix, will it just blow up in our faces? Am I just ruining things to make myself miserable at this point?

I so want to text my friend at times like this, even though I’m highly aware they would force me to go and socialize, but I figure this is something I just have to decide myself and for myself. Some would say this is out of my comfort zone, but what else would I find comfort in if not being around him? How bad could it be there?

My phone makes a sound. There’s really only one person who would have a reason to text me right now. It’s time to make up my mind, I guess.

I was right, it was Alex, 

“Sooo you coming tonight? I hope?” 4:35 PM

Fortunately for him, I don’t think I have it in me to tell him no. Not when he sounds like this, like he needs me. Like it’s up to me to make or break his night. It’s a lot of pressure to be this important to someone like him.

For now, I reply,

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” 4:39 PM

It’s as if he knows me inside out again and that I’m still questioning my choice, because he doesn’t leave it there, but says,

“Awesome, I was already thinking you’d bail on me.” 4:40 PM

That’s awkward. 

“Never.” 4:40 PM

Guess I’m going. 

.

I popped by a liquor store on my way to his before I hopped on the bus. I’m not usually the one to drink, especially on the first meeting, but I think I need some liquid courage, because I will decay before I can meet those new people if I think about it too hard. Have I already made it obvious that I’m a nervous wreck? It’s already an accident scene in my mind. When I finally arrive at his door, I could already hear the voices of many that I’m not familiar with. It’s still not too late to back out, but I won’t. I didn’t come this far just to come this far.

I knock on the door, and then it opens, revealing Alex behind it, smiling at me radiantly as ever. The smile that I think makes this all worth it. 

He seems to be already having fun with his friends, so it’s still unclear to me why he wanted me here to shuffle the pack. I put on a happy face and my best foot forward, greeting him with the same enthusiasm. Faking it until I make it.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” he was grinning, like he was proud to have lured me here.

“Of course! Always up for a challenge.”

“Hey, everyone’s gonna like you, as much as I do. You don’t ever have to worry about that,” he pouts. 

I wonder what caused him to say that. What is suddenly so likeable about me and how can he sound so sure of everything?

I step in the living room and see three other people that are still strangers to me. So that’s not too bad, I can tackle three. And perhaps Alex was right, if he invited me here it must mean there’s something he sees in me that everyone else will too. It was when I found my seat that they started talking and then it was my job to keep up.

“Hi! I’m Karl!” a brunette opposite me spoke and gave me a little wave. 

“Punz,” the person next to him raised his hand as a greeting and popped snacks into his mouth.

“Oh! I’m Foolish!” the last person speaks and laughs lightly.

I wonder what happens next and how much they already know, or more like, what has Alex told them about me. Well, I was nevertheless about to tell them something that I hoped to be interesting enough, but got cut off by Punz as he waves me off and gestures to bottles on the table, “oh, we know who you are. Here, have one—oh, you brought your own drinks, nice.”

Oh, now I really am curious what have they heard from Alex. If it’s anything like what he told me at the door, I have a lot of expectations to meet. I’m totally cool about it, as cool as the drink I crack open and take a sip of. Bless them for initiating small talk while we wait for something to happen, since we are still the guests here.

Speaking of Alex, where the hell did he go? I haven’t seen him ever since he let me in and told me I don’t have to worry about a thing. Well, now I am worrying a bit, am I the only one who feels bothered by his absence? 

“Yo, where the hell did he go?” Karl asks everyone at the table.

So, it seems I’m not.

We all look around ourselves but he was nowhere to be seen. As if he planned this all along, leaving me alone with his friends so we have no other choice but to gather around and talk to each other. It would have happened even without his shenanigans, so I don’t understand why this was necessary, if that is the case.

We couldn’t help, but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Karl hid his smile with his sleeves and slapped the armrest, “he really said hi and bye. Can you believe him?”

He shakes his head disapprovingly. Punz seems fixated on the snacks he is still eating, good for him. Foolish was laughing too, like this was the main entertainment. I feel anything but entertained, I forgot to expect the unexpected whenever I am with Alex. You never know with him. I just sat there and drank my drink.

“So, what do you guys wanna do? Since it’s just us,” Foolish asks and wiggles his eyebrows, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees, balancing the neck of a bottle on his fingertips.

I don’t want them to change their plans for me or to stop doing what they were doing before I got here, but obviously, true to my nature, I don’t dare to tell them that. My head is playing tricks on me, making me think there’s still a reason to keep my guard up and shy away.

Karl looks like he’s going to say something, like a brilliant idea washed over him, but then just asks me, “you two seem like you’re pretty close. Are you?” 

My jaw slacks open in surprise. I assume he’s talking about me and Alex. What do I even say to that? 

“Yeah, I think so—“

“Really? What do you like about him?” Karl bombards me with more questions, “ahem, as friends, of course.”

What is this about? What are my answers being used for? 

I’m confused, but answer, “uh—everything?”

I don’t really know what to say and I acknowledge that Alex could come back any second and I don’t exactly want to be caught talking like this. 

Karl tucks his lips into a tight-lipped smile, “well, if that ain’t the cutest thing. I asked him the same thing and he told me pretty much the same about you. Do whatever you want with that information.”

It’s now my turn to ask him, “really?”

He said that?

Karl just smiles again and yells out to Alex, wherever he is, “in case you forgot, you still have guests over and we would like to do something here, with or without you!”

Okay, so that conversation is over and I’m left drawing the conclusions and connecting the dots myself. It looks like a messy map of undecided feelings and missing truths. Did he really mean it, and if, why?

We all dissolve into laughter when Alex finally comes out of hiding and yells, “okay, asshole! Some of us has to look good tonight.”

Not too much had changed about him that would explain why he was gone for so long. Well, he had changed his outfit and from what I can tell, maybe fluffed his hair a bit, but I don’t see why that is necessary. He can do whatever he wants in his house, I guess. Not that I mind what he looks like, I myself am very casual and so are the other guests.

“So,” he claps his hands together and sits down next to me, not taking his eyes off me, “you okay?” 

I nod. He has no reason to worry about me so much, but I appreciate his heartfelt care. It’s a two-way street, I acknowledge I would do the same. It causes a grin to break out on his face, “great! So, should we play something? Jackbox?”

We did that. I was sitting there on the couch, with my legs pulled up to my chest, curling away, watching the game play on, downing my drink. 

Somewhere along the night, he was resting his arm on the back of my seat. I didn’t think much of it, until I felt his fingers toy with my hair. Does he even realise he’s doing it? I let it go and let him do his thing. It’s new for the both of us, a touch that’s so gentle and light as a feather it’s almost make-believe, but it feels nice and real. It’s making me want to stay here longer.

The game went on, we didn’t get through a round without laughter and genuine fun. I don’t know what happened to me about halfway through the night, I drank like never before. It occurred to me that it’s a receipt for disaster, but I’m way past thinking straight anymore. We just had a bit too much fun, or I did. Like I said, I never take things this far, but the rules slipped my mind tonight.

Foolish stretches with a strained cry and we all contagiously yawn as we wrap up the game for the night.

Alex mumbles next to me, “did you guys know there’s a fuckin’ fancy pool downstairs? I think it’s closed now and probably has restrictions and shit anyway—”

“Why tell us about it then?” Punz asks.

Karl was giggling again, “and who asked? We get it, you’re rich and we can’t go there—”

“No!” Alex defended his case, “I just—that would’ve been cool.”

It would’ve. I’d like to see the pool. Maybe someday. 

Karl hums, “hm, did you want to look at the stars with me and kiss me under the moonlight?”

We all laugh again and watch Alex throw a cushion at him.

Everyone soon scattered around the house to take bathroom breaks and such. As I attempt to hoist myself up, I definitely feel more drunk than I had intended to be tonight. I give up and sit back and hug my knees again, hoping this will pass. Alex gets up too to clean up the empty bottles on the table and floor. I’m scared I’m going to make a mess that won’t be so easy to clean up. 

I’m mentally cursing everything and myself, mostly myself for crossing the line, and how awkward it is sitting here alone. I want to get up and make things better, but before I know what is happening, I find myself falling to the ground. There’s no way to really say how I feel other than that I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round that doesn’t stop for anyone. It’s making my stomach churn and head spin. Everything is spinning, until I crash and hit the ground, or whatever I fell onto.

I’m listening but don’t hear anything, thinking it’s the alcohol messing with my head, until I realise there’s no sound. It’s a pin-drop silence. We’re almost frozen in time, right in this moment.

Alex finally fills the silence and speaks to me, holding onto me, “are you okay? Should I—tell me what can I do for you?”

Did he…. catch me? I mean, he must have, because I’m not shattered on the floor right now, but instead it was a very delicate fall. It didn’t even feel like falling, but the proof that I did is right there when I open my eyes that brings me a distorted vision of the floor.

“It’s probably just the alcohol, you know. We should get them water,” I hear someone else speak for me.

I then hear sounds from the kitchen, until it’s silent again, anticipating. 

“Here,” Alex advised me, “drink this.”

I felt a glass tilted against my lips and gulped down some water, and prayed this will all pass. This is such a nightmare, and I don’t even know who’s the villain here. I didn’t even drink that much, or did I?

Alex shakes me a little to get my focus, “do you feel sick? Just nod or shake your head.”

He kneels by my side and lays a warm hand on my shoulder, rocking me a little. That’s one thing I’m painfully aware of right now, how close we are. I hesitate to let him get any closer to me, in case this turns into an awkward memory. I mean, it’s already embarrassing enough as it is, I just don’t need him to touch me in ways he will later regret. 

He seems to notice my upset state and lifts my head to rest on his knees for a little comfort and holds me a little closer. This way, I can feel his every move, almost even every breath he takes. It oddly helps me, trying to synchronise our breathing, reminding myself that I can live through this.

I shake my head weakly, too weak to speak. Thankfully, he understands. I can see it in his terror-stricken eyes. Is he scared for? 

“So, that’s a no. Would it be okay to move you onto the couch?”

I nod, giving him the green light. I’m still here, pathetically lying on the floor like a wounded animal and no one knows what’s the right thing to do.

Alex nods back at me, “okay. Is this a stupid question if I ask if you can stand up? Even just for a few s—”

“Oh my God,” Punz groans, “yeah, no offence at all, but that’s a stupid question. I mean, look at them.”

Yeah, look at me... I know there’s no judgment there behind his words, it sounds almost pitiful, the way he talks about me. He sounds like someone who wants the best for me. 

“Okay,” Alex panics, “sorry. Is it—do you want me to carry you?”

Like he’s asking permission from me before daring to move me or touch me in a new way. I’m not in a good headspace to think, but that was kind of adorable of him. I nod, before I feel overtaken by nausea again. I can feel it in my guts, literally. 

I can make out Alex again hovering somewhere over me as he witnesses the colour draining from my face and my eyes drooping, like there’s something I’m trying to fight against. He seems to get the hint when I gesture him that I don’t feel good and then there’s four voices again frantically talking over each other about what to do with me.

“Are you—okay, okay. Should we go to the bathroom?!” Alex’s freaking out. Poor him.

Meanwhile I think I officially have the worst taste in making decisions. I’m in last place in learning lessons. This should have never happened. It doesn’t matter anymore, but I know better. 

“Yes!” Punz steps in, “take them!”

Those are the last words I can hear before I feel like silently I’m blacking out and spiralling into darkness.

. 

The next time I gain some sort of consciousness is when someone is talking and gently caressing me. I’m on the floor again, and that floor is cold, which feels nice on my hot skin. I don’t know where I am now, or who is with me, but my head is too heavy to ask myself those questions. I want to lay here for a second and just catch my breath, before I catch myself triggering another wave of nausea.

I feel someone leave my side for a minute, before they come back and drape something warm over me, as I lie still, too sick to utter a word. And so there were no further words spoken, until they squeeze me tight and whisper, “are you okay? Please, for the love of fuckin’ everything, tell me you’re okay.”

Assuming they are talking to me, I nod. I’m getting there, I’m going to be fine. I think.

“Oh, thank God,” they whisper back, keeping their voice low, “tell me if you need anything and I’ll deal with it.”

I really need my bed. No more words are needed when they say everything with their touch, rubbing their fingers comfortingly against my skin where they are holding my arm. I take a sharp breath as I feel my stomach twist and turn again very unpleasantly and pray they don’t hear it, but they do.

“It’s okay,” they murmur quietly again, “is it okay that I’m here with you?”

I nod again. 

I lost all track of time and place as I laid there in the silence. The silence seemed to be fulfilling enough for the person with me too, like keeping me company was the main reason they are here. By the way, I have no idea how long me and they have been here, wherever we are, but they never rush me. It never happens, no matter how many minutes of this night we are wasting.

Then it comes to the point of intoxication when I feel very swept up in emotions, like I had burned like a birthday candle that burns for joy, but now I’m burning out. I don’t even flinch when tears prickle my eyes and I start sniffling, as dramatic as it is. I really try to contain it, but my body doesn’t listen and wants to stir the pot and make me more of a mess. So I have no fight in me.

The person next to me doesn’t seem to mind as they lean down to fully capture me, their body radiating warmth against mine and hands urgently pressing wherever they could and stroking my back. Still no words said, but letting the actions speak. I know it’s not the right time or place for this, but when’s the last time someone has held me like this or would love this version of me? They keep me there tightly in place, tucked against their chest, giving my frame a few easing squeezes to tell me to take my time. 

When they pull away, I whine in the loss of comfort they once brought. 

“One more hug?” they ask me. As soon as I nod, we are back to cuddling there on the floor. It must not be so comfortable for them, but they put up with it, for me.

I’m startled to the core when I hear a door opening to the room we’re in, and a voice, “the car’s here. Ready whenever you are.”

That sounds a lot like one of Alex’s friends I met tonight.

The someone who’s still lying by my side tells them, “okay, great. Uh—we’ll be right out, okay?”

That sounds a lot like Alex. 

Wait, so I’m still at Alex’s place, in his bathroom, and everyone is still here? I’m embarrassed. Cheers to the night I wish to forget. The only memory I wish to revisit tomorrow is Alex and his tendency to closely watch over me. He did more than what was enough and showed me something about him I haven’t seen before. I like the new highs he took me to, but I’m not going to like the come-down tomorrow.

I jolt somewhat awake when I’m being helped to stand up and then walked downstairs and put in the awaiting car. This ride is not going to be nice with an upset stomach like mine. I don’t have to worry about that for too long though, when I close my eyes and then I’m out like lights.

.

I wake up to sunlight peaking through the window, shining on my face. I don’t know anything, but I do know that I feel like hell, at least emotionally. My mouth is dry as ever and my body feels icky. It’s uncomfortable to a point, that I wish I could step out of my current skin and put on a clean, nice one that doesn’t hurt. I’m happy to make the observation that I’m in my bed and that I made it home last night, or, well, I must have made the absolute walk of shame home last night.

I don’t know how long I have laid here like the dead, it doesn’t feel that long at all since I was sick at Alex’s. Speaking of him, how will I ever speak to him again without wanting to die of embarrassment? I didn’t have much time to think about it, when my thoughts were diverted to something else; I’m wearing more clothes than I did when I left. I’m talking about the soft hoodie I still have draped over me, Alex’s hoodie that he lent me for comfort. Awkward. It’s so bad I wonder if it will ever get good again.

I’m scared to check my phone, I really don’t want to know or see anything right now that would make me feel worse, but I still check it. The time on the screen tells me that it’s 11:45 AM and that my friend had texted me not so long ago;

“Come to my place today! We’re having a partyyyy. I know you love those ;)” 11:34 AM

Right, it’s Saturday, of course they are having one. When it comes to this party and my invitation, I can’t even look at alcohol right now, not after the night I had. It’s the last thing I need to expose myself to and it’s almost inevitable.

No text from Alex, nothing. A part of me wishes to see him, to apologize and give back his hoodie, but I don’t know what he thinks of me anymore. I know it would be better to make the big step forward and own up to it, but I was so out of line last night that I’m honestly terrified to talk to him right now. He probably resents me. I do too, it’s almost inspiring. I might be weak and unstable, but at least I’m trying. He and what we have, it means too much to let it fall apart.

I went back to bed and texted my friend back, telling them about last night. Not all of it, but enough for them to know I feel vulnerable and psychically I’m not doing much better.

While I lay there in the silence I created, I let the memories from last night creep back, or the ones I can remember. The tender touches from him, the whispers that were all for me. The hold he had of me, like I was the only thing he wanted to touch. I have forgotten to miss his touch already when there’s still a mess I have yet to clean up and this time he won’t help me. He hadn’t signed up for taking care of me, but he still did and followed through like it was a contract. God, how will I ever make it up to him? 

So, tonight’s party. I think I feel fine enough to go as long as I stay away from the drinks, stay there for an hour or two just to say hello to my friend, and then come straight back home and continue rotting in bed. It’s settled then.

I take a long, refreshing shower which soothes some part of me, but I still have this shame that doesn’t come off in the wash. That’s not how life works, unfortunately.

As I’m picking out an outfit, my phone pings to notify me of a text from Alex. Shit. I’m terrified to see what he has to say, but I know I have to take on my biggest enemy right now; the consequences of my actions. I don’t want to leave him hanging right now, so I read it immediately. 

“Are you okay???” 1:34 PM

That’s all his text says.

Well, I have this shame in me that’s eating me alive, but other than that, I feel okay, I guess. This is why I sometimes hate texting, not being able to read people. I can’t tell if he’s mad or worried, or somewhere in between, and I don’t know how I deserve to be perceived right now.

“I’m okay, but so embarrassed I’m not even sure I can talk right now, but I know we need to.” 1:36 PM

He must’ve been waiting to hear from me, because it didn’t take him long to respond;

“No, it’s fine. Seriously don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re okay. It was an honour to take care of you ;)” 1:36 PM

Why would he say that? I can’t remember what I have done and am not sure if I want to know. And when it comes to him reassuring me this is fine, I want to tell him it’s not and that he has every right to be frustrated, but I don’t exactly want to go against what he is saying to me and argue. How will I win if I don’t want to fight?

“Stop, this is so embarrassing. Can’t wait to never be invited again.” 1:37 PM

I fairly wouldn’t be shocked if last night was my last night at his place. His lack of irritation and ability to brush things off has so far been surprising. I wonder if he really is okay and what is he doing today. Is he thinking about me, us, and what to do with me? He is not going to fire me over this, is he?

He replied shortly;

“Can’t wait to invite you again ;) What are you doing today?” 1:39 PM

Just like that, he read my mind. 

“I’m actually going to a friend’s place, there’s a party BUT I am NOT drinking! Just wanna say hi and then bounce. Believe me, alcohol is the last thing I want right now. What are you doing?” 1:41 PM

I feel stupid now that I said it out loud, that I’m attending another party after last night. He must think I’m insane, if he already doesn’t. 

My phone pings again to alert another text from him;

“Oh nice, don’t drink, I’m not there to save you ;) Doing nothing.” 1:44 PM

I’m just going to ignore those winky faces he keeps sending me and how they make me feel. Just when I thought things couldn’t get more weird between us, they do. I type;

“This is as embarrassing for me as it gets, but I still have your hoodie. Tell me when to return it!” 1:46 PM

“Oh, it’s no problem. Think you need it more than me ;)” 1:47 PM

He is acting like he’s the one out of his mind right now. Did we both get up on the wrong side of the world this morning and fell into some alternate universe where nothing feels real or makes sense? 

I don’t know what came over me next when I typed before I could think;

“You wanna come with me to the party? I think we really need to talk.” 1:50 PM

I was terrified to check my phone when it had been a few minutes, and even more when I saw no reply from him. Why did I have to go and do that? Haven’t I been enough trouble for him already? I really need to think more and do less. Or, even better, I could have at least waited until Monday, when he’s going to text me anyway about work and the schedule for the week. It’s really not easy being me right now when I can’t stop screwing up and upsetting people, it seems like.

Next time I checked, he actually had replied;

“Needy smh, but what wouldn’t I do to see you ;) Tell me where and when.” 2:01 PM

He just said yes, as in I will see him very, very soon? This was an unexpected turn of events and I don’t know if we are heading for a dead-end here. I haven’t been this scared in a long time. This is what I wanted, but I think I underestimated myself.

I also made sure to text my friend and keep them in the loop, telling them I will be bringing him with me. I’m only doing this because I will not let him settle for anything less than a proper sorry. But sorry is just a word and not so simple, so what he decides to do with my apology, it’s up to him.

.

I got to the party before Alex did, which was lucky, because it meant I could have some time with my friend before he arrives. I know it’s not all fun and games when he gets here since we still need to talk about… well, last night and I’m not sure what kind of a conversation that will be. It if  doesn’t kill me, it probably will make me wish it had. Will we work or hurt?

I soon spot my friend in the crowded living room that had been turned into a dance floor for the night. The reek of alcohol and the sight of it is enough to make my stomach turn. I’m never drinking again. I push myself through the crowd and tap my friend on the shoulder. They turn around, their eyes lighting up as they see me there.

“Do you want—right, you’re not drinking tonight!” they yell over the music.

I shook my head, “no way. I’ll be just hanging in the kitchen probably, you know, serving you drunks.”

“That’s fine! And hey! What were you last night then?!”

“An idiot.”

They shoot me a sympathetic look and nod again, changing the subject like the good friend they are. We catch up some more, before I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I know it before even checking that it’s Alex texting me, telling me he’s finally here.

“I’m going to find him now!”

My friend just dramatically grins and sends me on my way, “hurry up! Don’t let him get away!”

I make my way back outside, and once I get there I inhale the fresh air that doesn’t stink of alcohol, which washes off all that nausea. My gaze immediately fall on Alex as he stands there cooly, with his hands in his pockets. He really came here for me, or at least that’s what I want to think, but I’m afraid he’s not here to see me just to see me, but for something else.

I forget for a second that I’m supposed to feel ashamed when his face holds a mysterious grin that makes it hard to believe there has even been anything troubling him, “hi! Good to see you standing, literally.”

Okay, so maybe there’s a chance he will try forgiving me and maybe forget.

I gladly accept his hug, letting him pull me to his chest, feelinghisthumb softly rubbing my back as he holds me in place, “shut up, but I am too, but shut up.”

He laughs lightly, music to my ears, “you’re a fuckin champ, though, because—how the fuck are you even standing after that? I thought I was going to have to carry you to the hospital.”

Ashamed isn’t actually even the word for how I feel, it’s deep regret for what I put him through. If there’s any part of him that is mad at me, he is suppressing it very well, so well that I’m not sure he is letting me see it. 

“I don’t know, but even thinking of alcohol makes me sick right now, so I think I’ll be hanging in the kitchen, playing the bartender.”

Alex grins at me widely again, his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip, before he admits, “it’s a shame, truly, that our time together was so limited. We didn’t even get to the good part.”

“Which was?”

“I don’t know, like we could’ve snuck to the pool. That would’ve been fuckin’ sick—sorry, I do apologize for my choice of words right there,” he shrugs, emphasising the word ‘sick’.

“Shut up or I’ll be sick on you the next time, whatever, goodbye,” I turn on my heel and walk inside, pretending to be annoyed and it didn’t take long that I heard him on my tail, following me inside.

“Next time?” he asks behind me, tickling my sides, “there will be a next time?”

I don’t need to look at him to know his eyebrows are quirked and that he’s wearing that stupid smirk again. It’s truly his favourite accessory whenever he’s around me, especially today when he has something new to tease me about. My head is hanging down as I’m trying to hide the smile creeping across my face from everyone passing by. They would never understand, when I can hardly understand how he makes me feel.

I kind of did take on a role of the bartender in the kitchen. You know, serving everyone who swings by whatever drinks they are looking for. Alex grabbed a seat and came to sit right by me, like I’m the only interesting thing here, or in the whole wide world.

“Sorry I forgot to bring your hoodie,” I blurt out. Better to get on with these apologies, there’s a long list to go.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, those eyes that held such care for me last night, “listen, that’s—it’s yours now. If you’re gonna give it back to me, I’m just gonna give it to you, you know that?”

Because friends totally keep each other’s clothes, right?

It’s like he could tell there was a lot on my mind as if he wanted to do something about it, “listen. Stop apologising or thinking you did something wrong last night and shit. I mean, I didn’t think either that you would find yourself in my arms, literally, but shit happens. Just let it go.”

“You know I was only there in your arms, because I quite literally passed out?”

“Yeah, sure,” he just grinned at me, like he wanted to believe that’s the real truth, “you seemed more awake when we… hugged and shit. Cuddled, even. It’s all good, I liked it too.”

I groan and cover my ears. So embarrassing.

I serve a few drinks to people, not exchanging a word or even a look with anyone else other than Alex. He is what matters.

“Wait, you have Snapchat? You should add me,” he leans back in his seat like he’s here for the long haul, already pulling out his phone.

“Ugh, really? You’re one of those guys?” I hate that stuff, I don’t really see the appeal and I don’t know if it would make any difference to what we do now, but for him, sure, I guess?

“Hey!” he straightens up looking up at me, extending his hand for my phone, “it’s a great fuckin’ app, okay? You just boom, boom, pow, and everyone knows what you’re doing.”

I give it to him without further complaints, expect for, “I don’t need everyone to know what I’m doing.”

“No, no. Just me,” he smiles smugly, softly brushing his hand against mine. I don’t know he meant to do it, but if not, then he’s real damn good at pretending and these happy accidents. 

While I was handing out drinks, he is doing God knows what on my phone. There’s not a single word exchanged when he seems to look interested in whatever he’s finding there and I’m not bothered to intervene, just enjoying his company in all its forms, until he talks again, “yo, what the fuck is this? This don’t even look like you.”

He flashes my Bitmoji on the screen, just enough for me to get a glimpse of it. Yeah, I know, I really don’t care about that stuff or if it looks like me. I have never felt bothered to change it or customize it, so sue me.

“Oh, really?” I challenge him.

“Yeah, I could make that amazing, like—you’ll see. You’ve never looked better.”

Before he could get any more heated over this dumb debate, I agree and let him work his magic on my phone again. Meanwhile I try to steal glances at him of sitting with his head low, leaning on his knees. He’s so chill it almost gives me chills. I can’t believe we made it through what happened last night, or did we?

I let him mess with my phone while dealing with more drunk people looking for more drinks. I gave them what they wanted. Ugh, they’re gonna feel like hell tomorrow. After last night, I can’t look at drunk people the same way, sorry.

“There,” he slams the phone back on my hand.

I raise it up to my eyes, “what the hell?”

He had made me look absolutely ridiculous and freaky. This, if anything, does not look like me. Well, as long as he has fun.

“Thanks for making sure no one will ever talk to me again,” I tuck my phone deep in my pocket.

“They shouldn’t, you’re right. I think I should be the only one,” he lays his eyes on me again, raising his eyebrows challengingly and crossing his arms across his chest.

For an hour, he sat there with me, like the time had stopped for us and there was no hurry to be anywhere else. I understood a little bit better why many feel drawn to Alex, and how it’s his commentary on things that is rather entertaining. I just want to hear him talk and joke more. I noticed he had rolled his sleeves up at one point and now his other sleeve had fallen down due to his dramatic hand gestures. It was kind of adorable.

“I’m definitely not drinking ever again. I’m so glad I’m not one of these people here, they will feel like hell tomorrow,” I tell him after watching another drunken person stumble out of the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone again.

He suddenly seems concerned, a total shift in his mood, “are you sure you’re okay? Did you even throw up last night? Like, you know, you need to get that shit out of your system.”

I bury my head in my hands, “I don’t know, I don’t remember anything after I was put in that car. What was up with that though? Who drove me home? Whoever it was, I just want to tell them that I’m sorry for being such an idiot.”

He hurries to my comfort, “it’s okay! You don’t remember? I got my friend to pick us up, he drove you home and then drove me back to the house.”

“You were there, in the car? Why?” I was surprised. He didn’t have anywhere to go, since he was already home, so why would he be there?

“Holy shit, you really don’t remember a thing,” he tries to contain his laughter, “of course I had to be there with you, I mean, not to spark some memories, but you were quite literally all over the place and I feel like it was my duty to get you home, so I came along, which by the way turned out to be the right thing to do, since you kept passing out and leaning on me.”

I did? And he was there for me the whole car ride? Ignorance is bliss, but I wonder what made him do it. Was it his head or heart that made that decision? Is he hiding something to be considerate of me or is there something he is not telling me? I would do the same for him, though, but I’ll never tell him that, since we all have something to hide here.

“Oh God,” I groan in shame, “yeah, I don’t remember how I got home from the car, but I don’t think I want to even know. I know it will be embarrassing as hell.”

He seals his lips with his pointer finger, “okay, okay. I’m not telling you, unless you absolutely demand me to, but let’s just say that you were clinging on to me when I was walking you to the door like—”

“Stop!” I cover my face with my hands. This is so bad for me. I will never, ever hear the end of this. 

Well, that was until our night came to an end when he told me he has to get going, since he had promised to stream later tonight. Safe to say I was disappointed, but duty calls for all of us sometimes and I can’t do anything to stop it. 

I didn’t let him leave until I told him, “I can’t wait for the day when this will all be forgotten and we can go back to normal. I am so, so embarrassed.”

“You’re asking me to forget how it felt to have you all over me? You’re driving a hard bargain, I’m not sure I can do that,” he grins mischievously and reaches for my arms as I walk him to the door. This is hopeless, he is being impossible. Impossibly… flirty?

Hhe closes the distance between us to capture me in a quick embrace, wishing me a safe rest of the night, and then he is gone, vanishing into the night too soon for my liking like a figment of my imagination. For a second I really think if this is all just a really good book that we live in. He’s too good to be true sometimes and that’s what scares me. I think it’s safe to say I am free to move on from last night and that we are in the clear. 

I had to really comb the whole living room in the hope of finding my friend, to tell them I’m out of here for good. Now that Alex’s gone, I feel like this place is dead and I have already overtimed my stay. I made my way through the dancing bodies, bumping into a few.

“Hey, who are you? Where did a beautiful thing like you come from?” says someone behind me. I know they’re talking to me, because I can feel them trying to grab my arm to slow me down. Not to my surprise, when I make them the favour of turning around, I see a guy I have never seen before. He wasn’t too drunk to function or to know what he’s doing, but definitely has more than a few drinks down.

“Uh…” I stutter, “I was just about to leave.”

He groans, “nooo, c’mon, stay! I’ll get you a drink if you stay and—”

“I don’t drink tonight, actually. I still have a killer hangover from last night, so I just came to say hello to a friend here,” I tell him firmly before he can finish that sentence. I don’t need to hear it, because my mind can’t be changed. 

He seems taken aback and puts some space between us like someone will charge at him if he gets one more move wrong, “okay, I hear you, I respect that.”

Thank God. I smile in hopes that he lets me go on my merry way, until he tugs on me again, “hey, you’re not interested at all? Like, can I get your number at least? I swear I’m not a creep, but you’re really, really beautiful, and I’d like to know you. That’s all.”

He raises his hands up in surrender as to prove his innocence to me and I internally want to roll my eyes. I thought he might have been cool and all and and then he raises a red flag. Nothing good ever starts with what he said, ‘I’m not a creep, but…’. He seems harmless, even a little nervous to be talking to me, which almost makes me feel flattered. Almost. He is innocent until proven guilty. Hope it’s not a dead-end case.

Before I can pick him apart any more in my head, I agree to his deal and he seems to notably cheer up, “awesome. Thanks for giving a guy like me a chance, it’s not every day I get this lucky.”

Save those compliments for the date, I’ve already said yes, I thought. That said ‘date’ though, all I’m saying is that I won’t be mad if it never happens. I’m not particularly excited to possibly see him again, but I rather take the risk than the regret of what could’ve been.

I just smile again when we quickly exchange numbers, and then I leave. It’s unlucky I can’t see my friend anywhere, so I just text them on my way out that I’m leaving. They wish me good night. I

.

Ever since that weekend, I felt the universe shift again for me. I know I say that a lot, but something really changed between me and Alex, like someone had wiped our slates clean and tied our souls together into a pretty bow. Or maybe it was because of that damned Snapchat, he definitely has used it to his advantage and sent me stuff all day and night, telling me where he’s going or what’s he doing, like he wants me to know his every move. Whatever it is that we’re doing, I kind of don’t want it to stop. I want to hear more from him, see more of him, and if this helps the case, then so be it. I want to give this my best.

Work has been okay, actually more than okay, now that I finally know him the way I have wanted. Sometimes he calls me while I’m working and we go over some bits together and laugh about them, or he tells me about the game he has been playing lately and I try hard not to get distracted. If I’m having a tough day, he always manages to put me back together. It was not so long ago when I still felt like walking on eggshells around him, like I was desperately just trying hard to make a good impression on him, but now we ask all the deep questions and keep each other up all night talking about anything and everything. It’s weird how fast things have fallen into place with him.

Just like today, when I finished work and was almost expecting him to blow up my phone again for no particular reason. I actually can’t wait to hear from him. My phone did eventually ping to alert a text, but my smile fell when I saw it wasn’t a text from him, but from a number I don’t recognise nor have saved;

“Hey. Still up for that date, I hope? How about tomorrow?” 5:32 PM

A date? With who?

“I’m so sorry, who is this?” 5:34 PM

“It’s me from the party! You didn’t drink back then, but I wondered if you’d like to go out, I mean you did say yes after all. Unless something came up?” 5:35 PM

Oh, it’s him, from my friend’s house party. Tomorrow is Saturday after all, if it happens it will happen tomorrow. I don’t know if I exactly feel like wasting a perfectly good Saturday night on him when there’s endless potential for it, but I guess one date won’t hurt, so I tell him;

“Oh sure, tomorrow is fine. Text me the time and place?” 5:38 PM

“Great, there’s this restaurant I think you’d like, I’ll text you the address. How about at 7PM?” 5:39 PM

How does he think he knows me already? I’m just going to go along and hope for the best, whatever the best here is. 

“Sounds good to me!” 5:40 PM

.

It was 6.15 PM when I left the house the next day for this so-called-date. He had kindly offered to pick me up, but I told him I’d rather meet him there. 

The restaurant looked promising, at least on the outside. I don’t even remember the last time I went out to eat, now that I think of it. I definitely didn’t in a million years think my next time would be with someone I barely know, an actual date. He didn’t seem to care too much about the finer things, so I’m surprised this is the kind of place he decided to choose for us tonight, but I appreciate the effort. I’m lucky if I even remember what he looks like and if we find each other in this parking lot. 

I was there, leaning against the wall and looking around, until I saw a silhouette of someone I think I recognise getting out of a car. I’m pretty sure it’s him and he confirmed my suspicion by smiling at the sight of me and waving, making his way over.

“Hello there,” he greeted me politely, “let’s get inside and see what this place is all about, shall we?”

I nodded and let him lead the way. How bad could this be?

It was a few steps to the door that opened up a bustling, dim space for our eyes. I could barely make out what he was telling me, but I figured it was something about finding our table. I just nodded and went along with him as we walked further inside.

“How did we, or you, manage to get this table tonight?” I asked him when he found an empty booth and we made ourselves comfortable in it. I mean, this place is packed and if I saw correctly, there was a small queue outside that we were able to just waltz past.

“Well,” he blushed a little under the yellow light, coming from the lamp hanging above our table “I booked this for us on the same night when you gave me your number. I’m sorry—I probably went ahead of things a little, but I couldn’t let this opportunity go.”

“Oh, that’s fine.”

At least he’s honest.

“Okay,” he smiled at me as if relieved, “good.”

A waitress came by to get our drink orders first. I decided to settle for one glass, he did too, and then we fell into small talk.

“So, what is it about you? Why are you ‘you’?” he questioned me.

Well, that’s one way to ask for my story.

I cleared my throat and thought about how much do I exactly want to share, before telling him about my studies. That’s always a good place to start, right? He kept nodding while listening to me, occasionally letting out approving sounds. Not that his opinion on what I should do or should’ve done matters too much. I asked him the same question in return, and that’s when he went into great detail about his life. Wow, I would’ve never guessed he’s so... educated and wealthy. A guy like him just doesn’t look like someone that walks around with such riches and glories like it’s nothing. Guess I could have not been more wrong about him.

If Alex was here, he would definitely crack more jokes and never make me feel less than I am—stop! Why am I thinking of him right now?

He kept rambling, not stopping even for a second when our drinks and food got placed down in front of us and we dug in, “I don’t want to brag, but I could change your life too if you gave me a chance. I have everything anyone could ever want and you look like you could use some of that.” 

I wanted to roll my eyes, because that’s exactly what he’s doing this whole time; bragging. It’s not the lifestyle I’m interested in nor do I need it from him. I suddenly feel very content with the simple life I have, I don’t need any of those things that he’s trying to force on me. 

As I was sipping from my glass, I could already imagine if Alex was here, how he would definitely steal some food from my plate and then act offended when I call him out for it and how we would make fun of pretentious people like my date. On the other hand, I need to stop thinking about him so much and stop looking at life through him and manage on my own for once.

We chat more between bites and gulps, mostly about him or the more serious stuff and the future, things that I didn’t really feel the want to discuss on a Saturday night or if ever, especially on a first date. I mean, we’re so young, what’s the rush planning the rest of our lives right this second?

I let out a few forced laughs here and there at his stories about his trips around the world, laughs that I never had to force with Alex. I felt almost ill at one point, like my gut was telling me something and I wasn’t listening. It didn’t get any better when he fell deeper and deeper into the same cycle of boasting himself and convincing me that he’s the greatest I will ever find. I think he should just date himself at this point.

He eventually slows down, “that was something, wasn’t it? Are you impressed, you don’t look impressed? What about you? What do you think you want to do?”

“Um,” I gulp, “I don’t know.”

“Hm,” he thinks out loud, “you could do so much more than you do right now. I’m not saying you could be as good as I am, these kind of things only happens to the few. I’m just the lucky one, but I think it would be good for you to give me a chance. You don’t need to be miserable for the rest of your live, when you could be happy with me.”

Oh God, I just want this to stop. How would he know what’s good for me and that I’m miserable with how life is going for me when in fact I am not? I mean, I am absolutely miserable right now here with him, but as soon as I get out of here I’ll be the happiest I have ever been and will go on living my perfect life that he won’t ever see. It’s perfect because it’s all mine and no-one else’s.

I nod just to get him to shut up, but as soon as I think it’s over, he looks like he’s eager and ready to delve into another story about himself. I sit there finishing up my food, occasionally listening to him, occasionally shamelessly thinking about Alex again. It’s a scary thought, how attached I feel to Alex all of a sudden. Maybe it’s moments like this, when I realise how good he is to me, so if nothing, at least this date gives me some new perspective on him and how he is the only beautiful thing in this ugly world. I can’t believe there ever was a me without him. 

We finish our plates just as he comes to an end on his story. I wonder if he timed that somehow and hope he doesn’t see through my facade and figure it out that I wasn’t paying much attention.

To my luck, he’s just all smiles, “thanks for listening. Now I guess it’s all up to you how you feel.”

Yeah, I’m not feeling much of anything.

He pays for us, at least he is a gentleman, and then we get up. I’m the one leading us outside this time. We stand there in the dark parking lot and he asks me if I need a ride home. I hastily lie again and tell him that I have a friend to pick me up, you know, any excuse just to walk away alone.

He seems to believe it and asks me instead, “so, will I see you again?”

Now’s the time for me to be honest. I shake my head, “sorry, I don’t think so,” and leave swiftly, but not without shooting him a sorry look. I don’t know exactly what I’m sorry for, I’m sorry for myself if anything. Almost everything he said tonight was uncalled for, I deserve something better.

As I make it far enough to not to be in his sight anymore, I fish my phone out of my pocket. It’s only 9:35 PM, I see. 

Before I can exactly control myself, I dial Alex’s number.

“Too drunk again?” he picks up, a taunting smirk evident in his voice.

Oh, how lovely it is to hear his voice, and just like that, he immediately makes me want to laugh the realest I have laughed the entire night. All it takes is really nothing from him to make me feel like this. It’s so easy for him to make me happy.

“Ugh, yeah,” I pretend to slur, “I went on this crappy date and drank for my misery the whole time.”

“You did?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I mean—what’s the truth? Did you really?”

“Yeah, I actually did.”

“No fuckin’ way,” his breath hitches for a second, “with who? You don’t know anyone.”

I laughed again, because he genuinely sounds like it’s news to him that I actually can go out and hang out with someone else other than him, “so you’d think, because I’m pretty sure I was just sitting at a restaurant with this guy, who, by the way, was—”

He rushes to interrupt me before he hears too much, “okay, okay! I get it, fuck. What the fuck—is this why you’ve been so quiet today?”

He’s right, we have not talked much today but I didn’t think it would concern him much, but now he makes it sounds like I should be behind bars for neglecting him for a day.

“Calm down, bucko. I didn’t even get to the good part, which is that I’m not interested in him and hope I never see him again.”

“Huh,” he exhales, “that bad?”

“Yeah… not the worst, but I didn’t have the best time either.”

“What happened? Why was he an asshole?” he inquired, almost defensively.

“Okay, imagine someone rich and successful—”

“Yeah, me,” he interrupts me again.

I shushed him through my giggles, “—and they just make it about themselves the whole time, like you didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me that you think you’re better than me.”

He groans in response, “yeah, definitely an asshole. What the fuck were you even doing there?”

“Well, I thought it’d be fun, you know, as you usually expect from dates, but it’s not every time you get lucky, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s why there’s only one of me,” he states.

I laughed again, “right. But, I’m definitely over it, so you don’t need to worry your little mind. The only thing you need to worry about is when will I see you again before the next date candidate comes along and steals me away again.”

“As you should, as you fuckin’ should be over it. That shit doesn’t sound like worth anyone’s time, especially not yours. I’ll see you next Friday, it’s settled, alright?”

This made me feel a whole lot better, I can’t lie. He’s so easy to be happy around, he doesn’t try too hard to be funny and that’s what makes him funny. I think he’s one of those people who I could list good things about for days. One of those people who constantly celebrates you like it’s your birthday every day. Someone who knows what you need before you know it yourself.

“I love how you know exactly what I need and want and how I should spend my time,” I tease him. What if he is that someone?

“I do. I have something for you that will surely make you feel better, wait.”

“Okay...” I will wait. I have no idea what he could have up his sleeve now, but I think I will be pleasantly surprised, like I always am with him.

All I hear next is rustling and him murmuring to himself as if setting up something or moving something heavy. It went on for a minute, before I heard him loud and clear again and what sounded like him placing the phone down, “so, I have this piano, I don’t know if you knew but… I haven’t played it in a long fuckin’ time anyway.”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know what it has to do with anything, but I will trust the process.

He starts playing and talking in a voice so obnoxious that it makes me cringe for a second, “if you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me—I'm in the room—in my room, I don’t know—it's a typical Tuesday night—a Saturday night, actually—I’m listening to the kind of music he doesn't like, and he'll never know your story like I do—something like that.”

I don’t know what is going on here, I mean it’s pretty obvious that he’s trying to lift my spirits that were stomped to the ground, but where is this coming from? All jokes aside, he’s pretty good at playing, but of course I don’t dare to tell him. Even if this is not genuine, I’m not mad about it, at least it’s something to laugh about, but if he’s this good when he’s not even being serious, I wonder how good he could be when he wants to be good. 

When he decides he’s done, it’s silent until I speak. He seems to be amused by how I’m struggling to make sense of this and laughs loudly, still playing random keys in the background, “yeah, that’s a good fuckin’ song, okay? It’s just straight up disrespectful if it doesn’t make you feel better. Like, I’m sorry I can’t write that shit myself, but I’m still here trying to make the most of it for you.”

For the rest of my way home we talk about nonsense and laugh, it’s what we do best. I try my best to keep good company, even though I’m not able to get back my mind that I had lost on him earlier and I hope for the best that it’s not too obvious that my mind is somewhere else, literally. Will I ever know the truth behind what he did, did he really mean it? Whatever the truth is; will it hurt, is it going to be worth knowing?

After we hang up the phone, I stare at the screen like it would tell me all the answers. That was one hell of a night.

.

He seemed to be completely oblivious to everything the following weeks. Work was as usual, except that it almost had became a ritual for us to see each other every Friday night. It felt dangerous, like I could finally live instead of just exist, it was living between existing. I lived in ways I had never before and no one knew, no one but me and him, but I liked it like that. We would hang out at his place most of the time, I would keep him company and he would keep all of my secrets. His place felt like a hideaway from the real world, most of the time I even forgot there was a real world out there, it felt like it was just us two. We spent time talking about anything and killed time doing much of nothing when there was nothing to talk about. Nonetheless, all time spent with him was time well spent.

As I was on my way to his place one Friday night, I had a different feeling about it as I typically do. Last week had been busy, maybe it was the stress catching up to me.  I made it to his door, knocking, waiting until he appeared behind it, looking a bit disheveled. We greeted each other and he let me in.

I was touching up in the front of the bathroom mirror when he barged in, “I was thinking—“

I looked at him through the reflection, silently asking him to keep going. 

“—we could go down to the pool now. I can see it from the window, there’s literally no one in there right now.”

“We can?” I asked in surprise. I mean, I’m really not surprised about it being empty, it is almost 9 PM, but I for sure would think that it’s closed at this hour. Isn’t that what he has told me before, when his friends were here too and we asked to go there but he said no, because it closes for the night? 

“Yeah!” he cheered, “why not? It’s always open for residents. I know I might’ve said last time that it’s closed at nights, but it’s technically not. I just wanted to—I don’t know—be there with you, not them.”

I’m not sure what he means by wanting to exclude the others, or why he suddenly seems hesitant to even look at me, or why he sounds like his guard is down and he struggled to say those words out loud, but I shrug it off. 

“Okay,” I agree, “but I wasn’t exactly prepared for this, I didn’t bring anything.”

If I would’ve known this was on the agenda for tonight, I could have been more prepared, but he is so full of surprises and spontaneousness that I shouldn’t be surprised. One of the many things I have learnt about him so far, I wonder if I will learn more tonight at the pool.

“No, no,” he waved me off, “I got it all.”

He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle, “I have this left from… that night. Is this okay? Just something chill.”

I agree to it, knowing exactly the night he means. He has learned not to poke anymore holes into my remorse than I already have. It’s something we just have moved past.

I watch as he runs around grabbing the keys and the bottle and also two glasses from the cupboard, and then we’re off.

The air at the pool almost stood still, it was so quiet and calm. The moon hit the surface of the water right, making it illuminate before our eyes. I pried my eyes off of it just to see the stunning night sky above us. I suddenly felt small in this world and overwhelmed by how that sky is black, apart from the hundreds of stars, but I’m only seeing colours when I’m here with him. There’s so much beauty in this world that I will never get to see all of it, but this moment makes up for it; the way the universe is kind enough to always stay beautiful to make moments like this more beautiful. Or maybe I just fell for him and got a concussion that’s making me see stars and colours. One or the other. 

We sit down on the side of the pool, making ourselves comfortable. He pops the bottle open and pours us both a full glass.

“This is nice. If I could I’d be here every night,” I broke the comfortable silence. ‘Nice’ is definitely an understatement, but I don’t want to overwhelm him like I’m overwhelming myself.

He grinned and swirled his glass, “well, who says you can’t?”

“You, realistically.” 

He looked surprised as he gulped down some, “the fuck? You can come over here anytime you want, okay? You know that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

There’s never a point in arguing with him when it comes to… well, me. Like how he always wants me around and if I can’t be there with him, he always makes sure I know I’m at least on his mind by blowing up my phone, asking me how am I. Yeah, I told you; we’ve come far from where we started. 

We had a few glasses and talked, a lot. The night got darker as we got lost in endless conversations. I usually forget a lot of things, but I’ll never forget this night, I’m sure of that. It’s the way our minds and words merge together like missing parts, creating an entirety of mutual understanding that only makes sense to us.

As he eventually laid down on the concrete to relax himself and I decided to join him, the view of the luminous sky was undeniably impeccable from this angle. I could still hear the soft sounds of the pool too, the sound of the water gently splashing against the walls, that made me want to close my eyes. There are so many things to be happy about right now, but I’m thinking; what is it that we’re doing here? Are we crossing lines or are we just friendly? Why am I here every Friday night if it’s all innocent? Do I even want to feel like that about someone? Everything is good as it is, so why ruin a good thing like I’m doing right now. But if it’s not him in the end, then who?

I think I’m going through the melancholy you get in this position, when it’s late at night and you think too hard about the world and you get a bit sad and apprehensive about everything. 

“The same person that’s destined for you or cares for you or will become your everything someday could be looking at the same moon right now. Isn’t that insane?” I don’t even know what I said that, I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. I still don’t seem to know how deep is too deep.

He sounded tense, “it is, yeah.”

It didn’t sound like him at all. Where’s the laughs and the jokes that are more like him? I was almost expecting him to laugh at me and call me out for being too philosophical for his liking, but he didn’t. It made me nervous.

I turn to look at him as he seems to turn away. It gives me no answers. I think the silence is the loudest and clearest answer here. I’m not sure what happened in the span of these few minutes and why are we now acting like we don’t know each other at all? 

When he finally turns to me, I see a look on his face that I have never seen before. He looks almost emotionless. I know he knows this is getting weird and I don’t know anymore who’s to blame, I fear it’s me. There has never been a better time for him to quiet my fears than right now. I just wish he would.

Is this the moment for the inevitable hurt when something goes awfully wrong? Whatever it is, whatever will come out of his mouth next, will change something, change us. I’m sure of it.

“Can I ask you something?” he finally stutters. It’s so quiet I can barely hear it. I wonder how loud it must be in his mind.

“Yeah, anything.”

He laughed sadly, “yeah, anything but what I’m about to ask you.”

It can’t be that bad, can it?

“What is it?” I urge him to tell me.

He abruptly sits up, looking afraid of God knows what, his head slumped, looking very stiff and uncomfortable in his own skin. He has never been the one to run when the heat turns up and it scares me how much he looks like he’s just planning his escape from this situation right now. I want to be there for him so bad, to reassure him that everything is okay, but I settle for silence. I’m not sure what to say to him when he’s acting like this, it’s my first time hanging out with this side of him. So we just sit there, I’m literally counting the seconds, because I don’t know what else to do with my thoughts nor how to sort them.

He finally gets it together and sits up straight, “sorry—can I kiss you?”

Is that really what he wants? Does he know this could make us or break us? One move wrong and we fall apart. But, why do I want to say yes? I thank the lucky stars that it’s dark here, so he can’t completely see my face, I know I look as dumbfounded as I feel. I felt a rush of energy, I’m not sure what kind of energy it is yet.

“Yes,” I slyly give him my verbal consent and sit up.

“Holy shit, yes—really?” he slurred, almost as if he was drunk on this. 

When I nodded to confirm his question, it didn’t take him long at all to slot our lips together confidently, like he has thought this over before. I wonder if he has. I’d like to find it in me to ask him some time, but for now now our mouths are busy pressing and massaging against each other over and over again.

It felt like a movie with fireworks, like that whole Hollywood blown-way-out-of-proportion magic. I think moments like this, that are like something out of a movie, only happens to you once in your lifetime and I don’t regret one bit spending mine on him. 

Excuse my language, but shit got very real when he wrapped his other arm around me and deepened the kiss. It felt new and breathtaking. I’m pretty sure that he could make all my dreams come true overnight. Maybe that’s my head and the adrenaline running through my veins talking, but if this is already the dream, then I don’t want to wake up ever.

We slowly pull away, so slowly that it feels like for a moment we are one, and it takes a while for him to come back to reality and take his hand off of me. I want to tell him that it’s okay and that he can keep it there, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk just yet. My lips feel like they’ve been claimed for more important things, like they should never be used for any other purpose ever again than kissing him. He remained silent too and I wonder if he feels the same. I felt wildly flustered again as I thought about the possibility of me in his thoughts. I was even more flustered when I realised how much I want to do that again, but I’m not sure how much is too much. We’ve already crossed one line, so what’s another one?

He seemed to know it too and make it known that I was there, in every corner and place of his mind, when he looked into my eyes and whispered the only words that matters, “was that okay—did you like it? I liked it.”

“More than okay,” I reassured him, “I liked it so much that I’d like to do it again.”

Relief washed over his face and his eyes gained their usual whimsical twinkle back as he nods and cups the back of my neck and brings his mouth down to mine. It was even better than the first time, as he made me putty in his hands.

“What if it’s me?” he whispers against my lips. 

I pull away and knit my brows, “what?”

He laughs freely, “sorry. You were just going on about that shit about the moon and I was here next to you thinking how much I care for you and I don’t think you know it. Like, I’m right fuckin’ here.”

I’m not sure if my concept of care is the same as his, if he thinks it like I think of it. But, I can’t complain when he’s here pouring his heart out to me after everything.

“I… don’t know what to say, other than I care about you too, a lot. I just didn’t expect to find it in you tonight.“

He quiets down, “it’s okay. We don’t need to talk about it right now. I just wanted you to know that if you can’t find whatever you’re looking for, it’s because you already have it, it’s me.”

And there he goes again, turning into a cocky little tease. 

“Yeah, I’m done talking,” I pretend to roll my eyes.

Big mistake, because he plays along and doesn’t lose the smirk off his face, “are you, now? I’ll spare you talking, if you let me.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

And then, kind of to my surprise, he pulls me in for endless kisses. I don’t know what I expected, but it caught me off guard how brave he is all of a sudden with his words, his hands, his lips, all of it. But, I like it, the confidence. 

In the end he grabs our glasses and the empty bottle and asked if we should go back up since it was getting chilly. I agreed, because it was and I was dressed fairly lightly, no matter how bad I wanted to stay here with him. Those were one of the few words we exchanged as we made our way back upstairs. We left the pool just like we had come, as friends and nothing more, I guess. On the outside we appear normal, you would never guess there is something wrong, but on the inside we both know we had taken some damage. Repairing that would cost us facing things and questions that we are not ready to see just yet. Only time will tell the answers, I think.

He opened the front door and we were immediately engulfed by the warm air. It was dark in the apartment, until he switched on the lights, creating a dim atmosphere for us. I don’t know what is happening next, am I supposed to just go home now? 

“I have another question for you,” he told me in the kitchen, setting our glasses down, “you remember that piano I have? I wanna show you something.”

Oh God, how much more can I take for one night? 

Nonetheless, I nodded, “yeah, sure, but you don’t have to impress me anymore.”

I think he has done enough tonight to show me how he feels. I do regret saying that when I see him grin at me over his shoulder, like he is back to his usual self again that lives for teasing me, “what, like you’re fuckin’ hopelessly in love with me already? This is it, like—you want my last name now or later?”

I try to act as unfazed by his comment as I possibly can as I follow him into his room and then there he is, anxiously messing with his piano, while I just stand and watch. He didn’t have me waiting for too long when he spoke again, “I can do better than the last time you heard me playing this bad boy.” 

I played the memory of him singing to me on the phone back in my mind and laughed. 

“Okay, if you insist,” I told him, leaning back against the wall, letting him do his thing.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I don’t know what this will make me sound like, but I learned something that I think you will like and appreciate. You will, right?”

“Sure. It sounds like you’re hopelessly in love.”

I should know he is always one step ahead of me and that I can’t win, because he grins again as his eyes shift back to me, “there is hope. You’re still here.”

What is he doing to me?

Instead of more words, he let the music speak for itself and started playing. It didn’t take me long to recognise the song; You Belong With Me. Now, this makes it feel like he’s playing along to whatever joke this is, but as I stand there and watch him, I notice how much more serious he sounds. Of course I don’t dare to look at his face, I’m scared I might see through him, see his heart and soul and subconscious thoughts, see something that will change my mind about us, that maybe he is wishing non-existing things into existence, like us. Maybe this means more to him that I think it does. When I think I have him figured out, I realise I don’t. But I can’t exactly figure out myself either right now.

One thing I think I know for sure right now is that I feel something for him that I haven’t before. It’s when I see him like this, like he’s in his element, like music is the language he has wanted to speak to me all along. This is a total new side of him I have not had the pleasure of seeing before. I wonder if I’m really this special to him that he would do this, do something that most people would consider even romantic. 

And… it’s kind of even attractive how he plays.

“That was nice...”

“Yeah? Just ‘nice’?”

“You know what I mean,” I try to divert my gaze when I feel my face flush.

“Hm, tell me,” he rolls over to me in his chair and looks up at me. So many times I have seen those eyes, but now he stares at me so intensely I can almost see all the worlds and all the lives he has lived before. Maybe I knew him in another life and that’s why things are unfolding like they are right now, everything all at once.

“Fine! I think it was kind of… cute, and… I don’t know where all of that came from, but I think it made me think that maybe you were right. That you do things to me that no one else can.”

Wow, look at me being confident and speaking my mind. Never happens.

“‘Really now?” he smiles smugly, raising his eyebrows, ”fuckin’ finally. And you… you think I was cute too, huh? Just ‘cute?”

I sigh out loud, “fine. It was hot, okay?”

I think I went too far. I think that was too much. Maybe I have had too much to drink again. But no, I do know how I feel. 

His smirk doesn’t falter, and it’s my time to yelp when he suddenly makes the move to pull me on his lap. This is a whole new sensation. And what happened then? We got greedy again with our mouths and hands and each other. Endless sweet touches and kisses, as I stay seated on his lap. It was innocent as we still got used to the feeling of feeling each other this close.

We soon wrap up the night and I decide it’s time for me to go home and I actually couldn’t wait to be alone with my thoughts. I have a lot to think over, or maybe I’ll just fall into daydreams about him and this night instead. Tonight’s moment are going to be the rest of my life’s memories, and I can revisit those memories whenever I want to. He walks me to the door, we don’t really talk about what happened or what will happen next, instead he just settles for pulling me into a hug. His grip on me, that’s tighter than ever before, tells me everything I need to know, that he doesn’t want this to end here.

All he asks me as I’m about to walk out is “will we do this again?”, holding onto my arm, not willing to let me slip away before I can answer his burning question, whatever he means by ‘this’.

I just grin, “maybe.”

I still want to play a little hard to get after all this time, see what his intensions are and if he will keep fighting for me and my time. Now, I don’t actually mean any harm by that and I definitely want this to happen again, I just still feel like I have to preserve some self-respect and not be an easy target. Then I walk off.

.

The following week brings that painful tension between us and all I can think about is if we made a mistake at the pool and if I’m his brand-new regret. I’m trying to keep that thought out of my head, but it’s hard, because when it comes to work and talking with him, there’s so much tension there that I’m just dreading the moment when the heat turns up and it all sets on fire. I don’t know what will be left of us once that happens.

It wasn’t until a few more weeks had passed until it really settled in my chest, this hollow feeling, when something unexpected happens: he starts giving me the silent treatment. Something I never expected him to do, and unfortunately, I’m think I’m partly to blame. The night at the pool made things weird. If I think hard enough back to that night, it almost feels like a movie how he made the first move and unveiled both of ours wants for each other, but it ends as soon as I open my eyes and face the reality where he flipped the script and fleed. He had made me feel like I was flying that night, now I’m flying and getting motion sick.

I try texting him;

“Is everything okay? I need to talk to you.” 9:35 PM

He doesn’t respond. I wonder if he’s sleeping soundly meanwhile I’m staying up all night. 

Eventually I’m so tired I just fall asleep, my phone next to my head.

.

No text from him in the morning, or the morning after that.

I keep trying with a different approach;

“Pretty bored today, what are you up to? Unless you want me to get a head start and work on that stuff today already? Or unless you are up for some chatting :)?” 11:39 AM

To my surprise, he replies, but it’s not the side of him I was hoping would to come to the phone;

“No” 11:52 AM

If I’m not careful, I will get cut by the sharp edges of his tone even when there’s no reason for it. Maybe he doesn’t mean it like that, maybe he’s stressed and unintentionally took it out on me. I read the text again like a chant and wear it like a warning label. I didn’t know it would get to me like this, but I feel like I need to write it on me to warn people like him to watch their temper around me.

I text him one final thing before getting on with my day, even though I have a peculiar feeling he won’t reply;

“Okay. Let me know when you’re free to talk!” 11:55 AM 

I was right, for the rest of the day and night, he’s silent.

.

If I thought one day of his silence was loud, nothing could have prepared me for Alex disappearing from my life for a whole week and then two. He had brought us back to life just to leave like a ghost halfway through the good part of our story. It doesn’t make sense. Reality hurts too bad right now, I wish I could leave like he did. 

It was a text after another that I kept sending him, not even expecting a reply anymore but I still do it;

“Are you ok?” 7:52 PM

I wish I didn’t care so much, but I do. I thought we were getting along just fine, more than fine. That’s why it hurts.

.

My friend does keep me in check from that day on and blows up my phone with happy texts constantly, like they know somehow that I need a friend right now. Those are the only texts I seem to receive these days, so it was a real shocker when one day my phone buzzed with a text from Alex;

“Can we meet? Maybe by the park?” 1:15 PM

Oddly enough, I know the park he means. It’s the one next to where he lives that you can partly see from the living room window, the one I always walk past whenever I’m on my way to his. I think it’s the real oasis of this city, somewhere where the birds never stop singing and it’s always evergreen. I think that will change today. I’m never going to see that park in the same light again. I hope I’m wrong.

I throw on some clothes and then I’m out the door.

When I arrive at the park, he’s already there. Whatever it is that he wants to tell me, he must want to get it over with fast. When he looks like he doesn’t even want to look at me, I look at the sky and wish there’s an alternate universe somewhere up there where this is not happening, where everything is still okay.

I sit there next to him, nearly not as close as I used to would. The park looks ethereal as always, especially on a summer day like this it’s like a paradise, but you know what they say; even the sun sets in paradise. 

He sits there next to me in heavy silence, before taking a deep breath and telling me with his head in his hands, “listen, this whole thing—I’ve had fun, but…”

I’m just waiting for him to say it, that this was all a mistake.

He finally continues, “I’m just thinking about shit and turning shit over in my head. I like what has happened so far, but there’s just no dating—or being with someone like you. It’s so much more complicated than that.”

He said the d-word. Fuck. He’s braver than me. 

I don’t dare to interrupt when he keeps going, “I mean, you’re amazing, but it’s like—that’s the thing; you deserve someone that’s sure of what they want and don’t leave you hanging. For me, it’s like, I date or I don’t; I don’t do anything in between. And right now, I’m not sure what I want. You with me?”

He checks in with me and I just nod. I think I understand and I think I’m the same. Neither of us are cut out for casual dating, it has to be the real thing or nothing. And making the decision if we are ready for the real thing, I don’t know if we, or I, can make that decision right now after all. He also keeps dropping this d-word like it’s nothing. I guess this is the calm before the storm. 

“And—yeah, there’s not just dating, or committing to someone like you. People like you are so deserving of things I’m not sure I can give you. Maybe that’s just my insecurities talking, but I mean this as wholeheartedly as I can and hope you remember it. You deserve someone who deserves you, as simple as that, and I don’t know if I do right now, or ever.”

Wow, he really dug to the bottom of his feelings and found some gold there, and even shared some of it with me. 

I finally find my voice and some words to make sense of it all, “that’s—I’m very glad you told me that. I agree, there’s no telling who really deserves something the most, but I know you deserve good things too and I feel… very overwhelmed, but happy to know you see me as one of those. No matter what happens next, I think things have already changed between us, and maybe that means that the worst part is over, but I guess all we can do is keep going like before and see where we end up?”

He nods and croaks out, “yeah. That would be great. I need to get my own shit together first, like I don’t wanna be one of those fuckin’ people when I say this, but it’s not you. It’s me. I just want to be the best for you, but for now, I can only be your friend. Just like before.”

I’m glad we had this conversation after all, but still feel a little pang in my chest when we agree on staying like we were before, like there is no promise or guarantee we will ever make it as anything more. It’s better than nothing though. Now we just need time. Time for if nothing else, the sun setting in our paradise. 

.

There’s nothing that time and sleep can’t fix. Just a few days ago when I had the talk with Alex, I felt almost explosive, like if someone would have said the wrong things or made me upset in any way, I would have just exploded and spilled my feelings all over the place. There was more for me to process that I was able to take, but now I feel fine. We had a mature conversation, and I have a clearer vision of his feelings now. No more second guessing or doubting, or getting mad over literally nothing.

Work feels fine again, because at least that awkward tension is mostly gone, but we don’t talk as freely as we used to. That’s what happens when you’re not careful and spill your cup of romance all over your work.

I still nevertheless happily tell my friend about it over coffee. I didn’t mean to talk about it right there, in broad daylight, in a crowded cafe, but I did.

“So,” I tell them, “we did make up—I mean, there was no bad blood to begin with. I was just being dramatic, like you told me.”

“Yeahhh, I told you! I knew it,” they rolled their eyes at me from across the table, “no need to get all fired up if someone just—what did he tell you? Why did he do it? He was just busy, or?”

“Yeah, pretty much. He was just... busy. Yeah,” I have never sounded more shady. 

I know I still can’t blow my cover. This thing will be kept tightly under wraps until it feels right to discuss it with other people. I’m also that good of a person that I want his approval to share anything.

As I feared, my friend doubts me, “really? Is that really all? What are you not telling me?”

Digging a deeper hole for myself, I stutter, “yep! I just—I was really expecting there to be something, so I was just surprised that—you know, it wasn’t something I did. You know me, I’m paranoid like that, I don’t exactly like that about myself either.”

I was hoping this conversation would shift to something else, like my insecurities, literally anything else than this. A part of me feels bad for the lies I keep feeding them, but I know I’m doing this for the right reasons.

They squinted their eyes at me, “that’s weird, you’re being weird. I know you and I know you’re being weird like now. Since when we don’t tell each other everything?”

I don’t like how sad they sound all of a sudden.

“I am telling you everything, as always,” I try to comfort them, “it’s just weird for me to talk about him, because you know—he’s him. I just still feel weird about it that I get to know him like this.”

That seemed to ease their mind, as I witnessed a slight smile creep back into their face, “okay, okay, I believe you.”

.

As summer starts nearing its’ end, I feel like it’s also the end of other things too. Like the thing between me and Alex. We haven’t really hung out or even talked, and on top of that, I heard the news that it’s safe to travel again and that he’s going back home to Mexico for at least the rest of the summer, maybe even for longer. He didn’t tell me how long he will be gone for, but I know how his tone works and that there was something he didn’t tell me. Meanwhile I knew I will miss him terribly, but didn’t dare to tell him that either, considering the circumstances.

And so, he leaves in silence and I let him. I get to keep my job and talk to him about work matters, but anything other than that, nothing.

I miss him bad and fear that by the time he comes back there is going to be nothing left of us. He lives in a whole new world now, or that’s what it feels like. It feels like he is lightyears away.

.

“So, what do you want to do on Saturday?” my friend asks me as we pick out what to eat from the menu.

“Why?”

“Your birthday, dummy! You forgot your own birthday?”

“Of course I didn’t,” I scoff back.

They just sip their drink and devilishly smirk at me from behind the glass, “sure. Anyway, we could go shopping for some props, since we’re here at the mall. Do you know who’s coming yet?”

I scratch my head, “not really.”

Truthfully, there’s only one person I hope to see there, but it will not happen since he’s not here. I wonder what he is doing right now, wherever he is.

.

It’s the weekend, — and more importantly, it’s my birthday today— , but I’m just feeling blue. I’m throwing a party tonight and invited all of my friends that are in town, and in conclusion, they are coming over any minute now and I need to feel better ASAP before I become a buzzkill. I could lie and tell to myself that I don’t know the reason behind my heavy heart, but I know. Me and Alex haven’t really talked lately. I doubt he even knows it’s my birthday, or if he knows I wonder if he cares. It just sucks things have went south between us.

Soon my friends are walking in through the door one by one, holding small gifts or flowers and hugging me, wishing me a happy birthday. They don’t know that the best gift would be if Alex was here, as ungrateful as that sounds. The music is blasting through the speakers, but it’s not as loud as the thoughts in my head. This is going to be a long, miserable night if I don’t get it together.

We take a bunch pictures to post online and show everyone how much fun we are having. For me, it all feels like a facade. That’s how social media usually makes me feel, but now it feels like a whole cliché how I’m acting all happy, but inside I’m in shreds. If things were any different, would Alex be here right now? Possibly. That breaks my heart. 

The night goes on and I keep discreetly checking the door and my phone every now and then. I still don’t seem to understand that he won’t be here. One day he maybe will, if I don’t overthink myself to death by then.

We poured more drinks and even set up a little party game section in the living room, moving the furniture for more space to move and dance around. The more fun we had, the more ungrateful I felt for wanting more from this night, because at least I have my real friends right here with me. How could I ever wish for more? Who else could I count on if not them? I might feel lonely without Alex, but I would be lost if it wasn’t for the people here. There’s a difference and that tells me everything I need to know.

I can definitely have fun tonight. I can stop holding out my hand for someone who has no intention of taking it if I want to.

I poured myself another drink and to make up for my lack of gratitude so far, I went to turn the music up and got cheers from everyone as response. I do miss him, but I know now it will pass.

.

It was fine until it got to the point of the night when I have had enough to drink to start to feel emotional or sentimental or both and cursing myself for it. A moment when I just want to text someone something risky, especially Alex. It’s a stupid idea, a bad idea even, and just not worth it for me to be so forward on the phone now and then later flinch at the silence he will give me in return.

I still do the bad thing. I go to the bathroom and before I step out again, I type a quick text to him,

“I wish you could be for my birthday tonight :( It’s fun, but would be more fun with you here. 10:55 PM

Now I feel stupid as I stand and watch the text being delivered to him, knowing it’s too late to undo the damage. Way to make him feel guilty for not being here and making a fool out of myself in the process too. I know I’m better than this and I don’t like the sides he’s seeing of me right now.

I exit the bathroom and my friends tell me we should move this party to a bar. I agree, I have neighbours after all and it’s now past 11 PM, meaning we have to quiet down. And so the music stops and tables are being cleared and the lights are being switched off as we leave, but the night is not over for us yet. 

It’s a struggle for us to get a ride this late on a weekend, but we eventually manage to get a cab.

As we all finally squeeze in the car, I check my phone. My heart unpleasantly makes a drop to the pit of my stomach like I was on a roller coaster of life when I see a text from Alex;

“Happy Birthday” and a stupid meme attached to it that immediately makes me smile. 

It’s just like the old times happening all over again, like someone rewinded the story of us, when we were able to joke around like this with each other. It feels nice to do it again. Maybe I can finally take my heart down from the shelf I had reserved for him and accept that there is just friendship after everything we’ve been through.

I was looking out the window, watching the city lights and busy streets pass us by, while listening to the song on the radio and my friends conversing about what they will order at the bar. Things might not be as good as they used to be with Alex, but at least he’s still somewhere out there for me.

I lock my phone and put it away in my bag for good. We will be okay again. Or that’s how I’m trying to distract myself from thinking too much, because I know deep down I miss him bad.

.

At the bar, it’s jolly. I’m bubbly like the bubbles in our drinks. There’s no reason to be sad anymore, as long as I remember to forget. We dance the night away, we take more pictures, and buy all the fancy drinks. I know it’s a one-way ticket to temporary happiness, but I’m planning on staying for as long as I can. 

I get up to go and order another drink, and my friend comes along to tug at my clothes. I figure they are just too drunk to support themselves, until I notice their eyes wide as a deer’s in headlights and they shriek in my ear, “oh my God, I think I just saw him!”

“Who?” I cringe at their volume. 

They stammer and wave their hands frustratedly, already having trouble expressing themselves due to being under the influence, “Alex!”

My heart sinks.

“He’s not here, he’s home! We’re literally not even in the same country right now,” I try to get them to calm down, before someone else intervenes. I understand that this isn’t a good look on us here, them all over the place, freaking out.

“You ordering?” the bartender asks, seemingly bored of waiting around. 

I tell him to hold off a minute and instead escort my friend back to our table. What kind of a sick joke was that anyway?

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—it looked just like him!” my friend still slurs their apologies to me. 

“Okay, I believe you. It’s okay,” I coo at them when they look at the verge of tears. What have I started? My brain being occupied with the endless trail of thoughts of Alex all night seems to be contagious. Are we all going crazy? Is this fun anymore? 

I don’t know if I even believe them, though. I’m curious who it was, I could imagine it’s someone that does not look like Alex the slightest. You know, when you have had too much to drink, anything can look like anything. I admit, the thought of it makes me want to laugh. It’s kind of funny in the end. 

“Hey!” someone storms up in front of me.

What now? Oh no, are we in trouble? Was that scene we made too much? 

I look up and squint, just to be met with eyes I know I have looked into before. I almost jump out of my skin when they splay a hand across my back. 

“I found you! I actually found you!” they giggle. 

And that’s definitely the same laugh I have had the pleasure of hearing before. 

Alex?!

I swear I almost fell forward from shock, “what? How… How?”

Alex places his arm on mine now and leans in to talk quietly to me, as if he doesn’t want me to miss a word, “what does it look like? Okay, I know it looks bad, but…”

I waited for him to say something and still look at him like he is a shooting star passing me by, which seems to amuse him. 

“I flew back, to... see you, I guess? Yeah. I have to go back home tomorrow, or so, but then I’ll be back again, okay?”

None of this is actually making sense like it should. He came all the way here, just for a day, to attend my birthday party? He flew all those hours to see me and has to do it all over again tomorrow? 

I’m here standing in place, his hand steadying me. It’s like the world has stopped for us, and it’s just waiting for me to make a choice, make a move, say a word, for things to start moving again.

I know he’s touching me, but I almost don’t feel it. I can see he’s desperately waiting and begging me with his doe eyes to do something, but I can’t quite acknowledge it. Did he make the right choice by showing up here? Just when I felt like I was content leaving things between us unfinished, to never write that chapter, he’s bringing everything back.

I know whatever I feel and whatever my choice will be is real, when tears pool in my eyes, that he seems to notice even in the dim lighting, because he starts to move his hand and rub my back again soothingly.

“W-what changed?” I finally ask him, when I got myself together. Except that I’m now crying, great. 

He looks surprised that I want to have this talk right here, right now, but then tells me “I wanted to see you, and I want to see what life could be with you. You know, if we take the next step.” 

In spite of everything, in this moment, I feel it in my soul  and heart that I need him in my life, in any way it works out, but even better if it’s in a way we haven’t explored before. Or is it? 

“Don’t overthink it,” he reassures me, as he can sense the distress I’m in, “let’s make the most out of these few days and see what happens.”

I nod, “that sounds... perfect.”

He laughs lightly, and pulls me finally in a tighter hug and sways us back and forth. I could spend the rest of my night here. 

My friends are quiet behind us, trying to mind their own business’s, but of course they are curious too, looking at us and then looking away when I try to catch their eyes. I don’t even want to know how dramatic I look, with tears rolling down my chin, pouting my lips. 

I guess I have to introduce Alex to them now, kind of. I’m sure they already know him. 

He stands there right by my side as my friends pipe up their “hi”, making sure to say hello to everyone back. 

I can’t help myself, but only look at him with stars in my eyes. How charming he is towards everyone, not losing that smile on his pretty face even for one second and raising his eyebrows in surprise every time he tries to memorize a new name. It’s kind of an… attractive look. I should stop. 

None of my friends still have no idea that there is something going on between us. To them, we are just friends, good friends. But just between me and Alex, we both know now there is something more brewing. 

I’ll tell them in my own time. Nothing gets out, until I’m ready for them to know. And this bar doesn’t seem like the ideal place to drop such scoop. I’m sure we all want to be sober for that conversation, too. 

“Sorry, I have to go and lock my car doors. I got out in a rush when I was looking for you and feel like I’m getting robbed right fuckin’ now as we speak,” he whispers to me and laughs.

I smile at him, until my smile falls, “your car? I mean, yeah, of course, but how did you even find me? How did you knew I was here? How did you knew to drive here, out of all places?”

He just mysteriously grins from ear to ear, “so many questions, but how could I not know? That’s all you’ve been posting and I can still see your Snapchat location, you know? I knew it would come in handy one day.”

It dawns on me, “oh, right.”

I never even thought of that possibility. He’s a hundred steps ahead of me in thinking. Props to him. 

I let him go and as he disappears for a minute, it’s already enough time for me to start missing him. I lived all this time without him, and now even a second is too long without him. Love is impatient. I want him only to myself. Love is selfish. I’m talking about love like it’s been here the whole time. Love is blind. 

I want to cry again. I’m not sure if they are happy tears this time. I’m happy, because he’s here, but it also fills me with a heavy feeling, because I can’t exactly celebrate and smother him with love here in public like I want to. I need to be careful of every word and action with him in front of my friends. Hearts aren’t meant for cages and chains, and that’s what mine feels like right now, locked up and tortured. Misused. Might as well not have one. 

No one at the table says anything. I guess they are either still drunk and ready to go home, or just flabbergasted. I’m both. Mostly the latter. I feel almost completely sobered up. 

Before I can hold myself back, I tear up again. I’ll just blame this on the drinks, or him, or me, or my friends. All of it is overwhelming. 

My said friends immediately gather around me to comfort me and in chorus ask me what’s wrong. I almost want to say everything is wrong, but that’s not true.

“Are you just going to make yourself cry more and not tell us what’s happening?” they push me to talk and huddle around. It makes me crack. 

I choke out and sniffle, speaking no matter how much my voice breaks, “he’s just so great, you guys, like… you see him now and he’s so kind and amazing, right? But once you actually get to know him like I do, he’s incredible.” 

I can’t pick my head up anymore from where it’s buried in my hands, but I can tell by the loud silence that there’s confusion in the air, until my friend snaps back to reality and is the first to ask me what I’m sure everyone else is thinking, “but… this is a good thing, right? Happy tears?”

Others agree to the question, waiting to hear the confirmation of their conclusions from me. Safe to say, they are surprised at my outburst, but still supportive.

I hiccup, “I guess...”

Now I just feel like leaving it at that, if they can’t figure it out themselves that I’m not happy with the way things are. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I got some of it off my chest and that’s it. No more spoilers. 

“You’ve cried a lot tonight, on your birthday too! Are you sure you’re okay?” another friend asks. 

I settle for silence and silent weeping for a little longer, until I croak out, “I feel like I have never felt like this about anything, or anyone, before like I feel about him. There’s so much emotion, as you can tell. And I—we—there are some feelings involved, has been for a while now. I like him, he likes me. He wants to try to—I don’t know—see if we could be more than friends. That’s why he came here tonight.”

Shit. Before I can stop myself, I have spilled the secret. This is bad. I can still feel my cheeks burning under the stream of tears and I don’t see an end to it. I have to get it together though, before Alex gets back. Which should be any second now, by the way.

I don’t even know if he’s okay with this information being out. I don’t even know if that’s true. What if it doesn’t work out in the end and he leaves the country again as just a friend? 

I try to wipe my eyes before he comes back.

“It’s okay! I mean, wow, I never saw this coming, and judging by your reaction, you didn’t either, but sometimes it just happens like that, when you least expect it,” my friends are immediately there for me.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you, it’s just really scary for me that you guys know now. And it’s a big deal.”

When Alex finally, or at a perfect time, comes back when I look decent again, everyone fortunately acts the same as before. I don’t think he even notices that I’ve been shedding tears again. In any other situation I’d feel hurt, but now it’s for the better. At least I don’t think he notices, when he smiles at me and makes the move to put his arm around me to be cute, but holds himself back and instead asks me if I’m okay. 

We stay for one more round of drinks and I comprehend that he hasn’t wished me a happy birthday yet. Maybe there’s a time and place for that later.

When the night actually comes to an end and everyone has an assigned ride home, Alex gets close to me again and asks me, “so, uh—do you want me to drop you off at home?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

He gentlemanly opens the car door for me and waits for me to climb in, until getting in from his side. Before he even considers driving off, he looks at me and daringly caresses my cheek with his soft fingertips, “hey. Happy birthday. I didn’t tell you yet and—”

He checks the time.

“—it’s past midnight, but fuck it. It’s still your birthday, don’t listen to the clock.”

We laugh in the dark car and I give him my most sincere thank you. 

“So, about your present…”

I examine his face, and how it turns smug, and tell him, “a present? I think you coming here was enough. What could be better than that?”

I’m surprised when he still doesn’t start the car, but pulls his hand back a little bit just to use his thumb to swipe it slowly across my lower lip and murmurs, “no, no, nothing like that. There’s really only one more thing that I could give you.” 

“What is it?” 

Alex tilts my chin up, his eyes not leaving my lips, “I think you know. Do you trust me?”

Oh… I think I do know what he means. 

I gulp as he gets closer, “I do.”

This is not the first time we kiss, but it’s the first time we do it when we know the feeling is mutual and this could become a recurring thing. As our lips mash and do their thing together, his warm fingertips slips under my the hem of my shirt just a little, to test the waters. I let him twiddle with the material and claim every inch of my skin. 

“What time will I see you tomorrow?” I mumble drunkenly against his greedy lips. Not on the drinks at the bar, but drunk on love, or whatever it is. It’s more than lust what we feel.

He retreats himself and the moment is gone, “what makes you think we’ll see each other again?”

I look at him confused. 

He fiddles with my hands that he has draped over his lap and continues, “what if we never say goodbye tonight? If… you want to stay the night at mine?”

What’s the worst that could happen, why not? Now that things between us are finally moving, I don’t want them to stop. 

I agree and his delicious, cherry-red lips curl into a smile, while an awed look swims in his pupils. He looks as gone as I feel. 

He finally reaches out to turn the engine key and the car purrs to life. I lean my head against the window and watch the sleeping city pass by. The empty streets void of people while we cruise is like a vision of a dream, like it’s just us two in the world tonight. Speaking of, in what world did today happen? This doesn’t feel like the same world I used to struggle in, living feels and comes as easy as breathing now with him. 

We drive and drive, until the scenario changes to something I recognize. We must be close to his apartment. From here I can see the park bench where we had that talk a while ago, when we agreed on staying as friends and he kind of broke my heart for the first time when he told me he needed time, and there was no certainty of anything. The place sparks up unpleasant memories in me. 

He seems to notice it too and taunts me, “you want to sit there? Reminisce with me a little bit?”

“If you do that I’ll break up with you!” slips out of my mouth. My big, stupid mouth. Can’t take my big, stupid mouth anywhere these days. Never in a million years I should have said that. 

“I mean… I don’t know what I mean,” I finally admit when he’s fallen silent. I really don’t know. We never said the D-word, dating, again since that day at the park, ironically. Not until now. We haven’t even established that, there’s no label on us that says we are exclusive. That’s a talk for another day. 

Alex finally opens his mouth and laughs, “I think you do. I know what that meant. You will break up with me.”

As he recalls those words back to me, I cringe so hard at myself. 

“No, seriously. I didn’t mean it like that,” I try to save face. Just when we agreed to take these few days slow, I go and announce it to him that in my head we are a couple. Leave it to me to mess up this bad. 

“I mean,” he seems to be enjoying putting me on the spot like this, “I don’t know how many ways there are to break up with someone.”

I sink into the seat, trying to be hide in plain sight. I hope he would let it go, but I know he won’t. Especially when he lays his hand on my thigh while driving with the other. Now we must look like a couple. A couple of pining people, if nothing else. 

“Now you want to get shy?” he asks, “would you still feel as shy if I said I kind of don’t want to wait anymore either?”

“With what?” 

He doesn’t even hesitate to speak and also doesn’t let go of me, but still holds my thigh in place, “fuck it, let’s make it official. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you want me as much as I want you. I want you in a way that allows us to be together. So, what do you say?“

My face gets hot. It’s what he does to me when he’s this blunt. 

“I would love that,” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. I have a feeling these four words will be the most important ones I will ever say. 

He smirks, “great! Uh—I would love to make this more romantic and shit, but…”

“You did this, technically, on my birthday, so I think it’s pretty romantic and great already. And I think it’s kind of us to just be spontaneous. It was perfect.”

He parks the car, “with the way you’re throwing all this praise my way, are you sure you can wait until we’re out of the car before you jump my bones?”

I try to duck my head down to hide my face, but he leans in and presses a single, seductive peck on the side of my jaw, before winking at me and exiting the car, before hurrying to my side to open the door for me.  I am definitely falling. 

.

“So, that’s how we got here,” I tell his friends in the kitchen, the luminous afternoon glow radiating through the window, illuminating our faces. Ever since the night when we—in his words, made it official—things have gone great. He had to leave the day after, but then eventually came back home from Mexico and told me he’s here to stay. So, life is sweet. It’s all like a dream, but the only difference is that I’m awake. 

What it comes to his friends: Karl, Punz and Foolish especially, the night I blacked out wasn’t thankfully the first and the last time I saw them. I had another chance of redeeming myself. We’ve hung out as a group a few times, like we are currently doing, and they are dying to know how exactly did we end up here. 

And, I am glad to tell them. Over and over again, as many times as they want to listen. 

I get up to walk to the fridge to fetch a drink, and notice Alex standing in the kitchen, preparing me a snack I didn’t ask for, but know I need. He’s sweet like that, making sure I eat and offers to make me something whenever he can tell I don’t have the energy to make it myself. It’s scary, how well he knows me already, but I can say the same about him. I think that’s how you know you have found your person. 

Alex purposely gently nudges and bumps me, just as I walk past him, “oh! Woah! Is this like our love story? Like in the old days?”

It takes me back to when we used to do that. 

He seemed to be finished with the dishes and stepped to his right where I was, and our bodies had another collision, I think this being the worst one yet. Like we’re used to it already and know the route out of the awkwardness, we just laugh it off. I don’t understand what the universe is trying to tell me to do right now, because it seems like every move I decide for myself to make is wrong. 

I understand now that the wait is over why it had to happen. It was painfully awkward to even look at him afterwards, but I would do it all over again if it meant that we would still have our happy ending. 

“Oh, shut up!” I scold him through my smile and in return, push him back with my hand. 

He grabs the hand I’m holding out and pulls my whole body against his instead and tells me he will never stop, pulling me into a kiss to seal the deal. He belongs with me, and there's never a day when he doesn't make me feel the same.

THE END.

#mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #quackity fluff #quackity imagines #reader x quackity #dream smp x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction

[bakerstreethound]

The Loyal Bentley

Relationship: Aziraphale x Crowley

Warnings: post s2 spoilers, mentions of hurt, comfort, soft Crowley, domestic partners, domestic bliss, fix-it goodness, and the Bentley must be protected

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley get the ending they deserve, hidden away from doing the biddings of Heaven and Hell when Aziraphale makes his final choice.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 880

A/N: Hello, hello! I offer up another treat. After listening and heavily inspired by Tracey Champan's Fast Car, I had to write something for the ineffable husbands. I know there's no reader featured, but I really wanted to focus on this alternative ending for them. I hope you enjoy. This is dedicated to @novaracer. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Agony. 

That’s the feeling creeping along the recesses of Crowley’s mind. He leaned against the Bentley, his beloved car, heart thrumming in anticipation. 

He knew surely how lovestruck and forlorn -albeit lost- he looked but he didn’t care. Since when did Heaven and Hell have to continue calling the shots in their life on this earth? It was worth protecting. 

Aziraphale was worth protecting. 

He swallowed again, foot tapping on the sidewalk now as time slowed, people in lower Soho toddling by through their mid-afternoon excursions. It was an odd ambiance, one Crowley wasn't particularly fond of, but Aziraphale thrived in the heart and hubbub of a city. 

Aziraphale. 

The name made his chest falter, and his breath caught as he gazed back to the bookshop doors across the street as they finally, finally crept open. All the hoping, watching, waiting, and joy flowing through his veins skyrocketed tenfold as he caught a glimpse of Aziraphale and his luggage.

Muriel followed behind, dutifully toting a vintage trunk, encouraged by Aziraphale’s ramblings from the look of it while he hauled a briefcase and smaller trunk up to the Bentley. 

“Angel,” Crowley warned, holding out his hand to balance Aziraphale who stumbled on the sidewalk, “you need to watch your step.” 

“I can assure you, I am capable of handling myself, Crowley,” he muttered, a hint of a blush flushing his cheeks. 

“Mr. Fell, is this where you want the trunk?” Muriel smiled, struggling to open the back door of the Bentley which stubbornly refused to oblige their wish. 

“That’s fine, Muriel, thank you!” Aziraphale shifted as Crowley relieved him of the smaller trunk, throwing open the back door, leaving Muriel shocked as he stacked the trunks carefully. He usually wouldn’t care in the slightest but Aziraphale had made a choice and chosen him, chosen their side. 

Us. 

The word so small and insignificant sent the kindling flame within his chest burning and he closed the door, smiling at Muriel. 

“Aziraphale’s leaving the shop in your capable hands, I see.” 

“Oh yes, Mr. Crowley! I’ve got everything planned and in tip-top order!” Muriel gave a thumbs up and turned away to the coffee shop, where Nina stood poised at the door to welcome them in. She waved at Aziraphale and Crowley which they returned, a small smile on her face as she guided Muriel in to treat them to a fancy frozen drink. 

“Ready to go, then?” Crowley drew closer, brushing a finger along the lapels of Airaphale’s cream-colored jacket. Aziraphale swallowed, casting a quick look back at the bookshop that stood quietly, somehow bidding him a bittersweet farewell as his hand shifted to reach for the Bentley’s passenger door.

Crowley’s hand fell gently on top of his. 

“No, Angel, let me.” 

Aziraphale didn’t question it, not when Crowley opened the door for him, waiting until he got comfortable in his seat before shutting the door and joining him in his respective driver’s seat. They sat there a moment basking in the quiet, Crowley’s sunglasses still perched dutifully on the bridge of his nose.

Aziraphale somehow craved to see the demon’s eyes in the full sunlight, their brilliant shade of yellow. So many things were left unsaid, but it felt right, even after the argument. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake drive, Crowley!” 

And so they did, down across the expanse of the city, into the wide spaces of the country. Anything and everything was before them. It was only them. 

Us. 

Such a simple word, but it was all Crowley could want and more. Aziraphale’s choice was one he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t pull away when Aziraphale rested his hand on his thigh, squeezing in encouragement.

The Bentley slowed, Crowley’s grip slipping on the wheel a fraction of a moment- a thousand fractions of moments. The touch was burning, searing full of so many unspoken words that he dared not speak. 

The want was too much. 

So it went on, and on, the Bentley switching from Queen to slow romantic ballroom dancing right as it stopped in front of a countryside manor in the sprawling hills. Hidden in a glen amid a grove of trees, it provided the privacy, yet all the comforts of home one could need. Crowley had ensured it, knew it would fit their life here on Earth, even though he’d prefer to be in the heavens amongst his nebulas. 

“Oh Crowley, it’s quite lovely!” Aziraphale chuckled when the Bentley stopped in the cobbled driveway, chirping happily. 

Crowley smiled his gaze lingering on Azriaphale allowing the silence to wash over them. Peace, happiness, togetherness. It was worth it in the end and as Crowley guided Azirphale to the door of their new abode, he stopped, looking out over the countryside, and the trees, inhaling deeply. 

“This is something akin to paradise, Crowley.” 

“Well Angel, I reckon it is.” 

Crowley says nothing more, practically stumbling as Aziraphale closes the space between them, and reaches for the lapels of his jacket, their lips connecting, hungering for more. 

Yes, all was quite well in the world, a little slice of happiness. A nightingale sang a happy tune in the distance as the door latched behind the angel and demon, sheltering them from the world that had taken and given them so much for eternity. 

******

#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens imagine #gos2 #david tennant #michael sheen #good omens #my writing #my alleyway

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and The Saint Ch 5

Pairings: Slow Burn Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, fake names (for now), reader is referred to by her stage name, reader still thinks Bucky’s name is Nick, everybody has secrets, reader says unkind things about herself/is insecure, reader is an exotic and extremely flexible dancer, explicit NSFW thoughts/language/conversations, subtle D/S moments, slow burn relationship. There will be many, many more warnings for future chapters including mafia and all the stuff that comes with that, kinks, and smut.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated. 

Previous- Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The music started. You looked up slowly. Right into those blue eyes. Your lips twisted into a devilish smile. 

Sympathy for the Duke from Moulin Rouge the B’way Musical

The music started with just a simple drum beat. You were pretty sure your heart was beating the same rhythm. 

Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste....

You took slow, calculated steps forward in time. You let your mind flood with images of the man of wealth and taste that you had just been introduced to yesterday. You brought your right hand up towards the black silk top hat you were wearing. You pinched the brim with your thumb and first finger, spreading the others so wide and strong you were pretty sure you made Fosse nod in approval from beyond. You slinkily stepped down the runway, as if you had all the time in the world, making sure to toss your impish smile out at just the right moments. Then you stopped in your tracks and looked right back into those gorgeous blue eyes. 

Pleased to meet you; hope you guess my name...

You extended your left hand in his direction as if you were presenting it for a kiss. On the word ‘name’ though, you flicked the brim of your top hat with a sassy smile. You watched as a grin cracked across his face at the irony of the song lyrics and maybe your sass.

But what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game...

You crossed your right foot over your left, slowly twisting away from the crowd as if you weren’t quite ready to give up the secrets to the game just yet. 

The song continued, morphing into a verse from You Can’t Always Get What You Want. As the orchestra grew underneath the vocals, you began to glide a bit more over the stage, back up the runway and along the mylar curtain line, just really feeling the fun and attitude of the moment. 

You can’t always get what you want; you can’t always get what you want; you can’t always get what you want....

With your back to the audience, you seductively lowered the shoulder of the silky mesh cover you were wearing, raising it back prudishly on the lyrics ‘what you want’. Then you turned to the other side of the audience and repeated the gesture. The crowd started getting more rowdy the more you teased them. 

But if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.

You looked over your shoulder, right at Nick, shot him your sassiest grin, and on the word ‘need’, you pulled the top apart. The hidden break away seams along the back and the front made it look as if the clothes were exploding off of you. The crowd lost their damn minds and were eating out of the palm of your hand. Just the way you liked it. 

And that’s when the beat dropped in the song. And you went for broke. 

You pranced around the stage boldly, owning the moment and absolutely everything about every note. It was like putting on music and just dancing around your place just for the fun of it- you lost yourself in the joy of the rhythm. Your hips rolled deliciously on the trumpet riffs as your hands trailed seductively down your form. You tore off the wrap sequined skirt in time to the music. You felt like a goddamn rockstar; that didn’t always happen so you reveled in the moment right now. You made sure to flick your eyes up to Nick’s every now and then, just to watch his reactions. A couple lines apparently intrigued him...

I’ll lay traps for troubadours who’ll get killed if they come your way....

Use all your well-earned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste....

He seemed to find something to smirk or chuckle about on each of those lines. Hmm. What was intriguing about them? Maybe he was the possessive type? Or he just found them funny? You didn’t really have time to think about that now- you surrendered to the moment, grinding your heart out and just having a fucking blast in a thong, pasties, fuck me heels, and a black silk top hat. 

Love, sister, it’s just a kiss away....

Pleased to meet you....

It’s just a kiss away....

As much as you didn’t want them to, the negative thoughts started flooding your brain. You were crazy. You had no right to think these things about a man you just met, let alone a client....but the lingering feel of his finger brushing your cheek and the nearness of those lips would not leave the forefront of your mind. It was a heady mix of wanting to back down versus willing to fight for what you wanted. Which way were you supposed to go? 

In response, and partially to reclaim your power, you had to throw your infamous leg move in the mix, making the crowd scream. Right before the last lyric, you positioned yourself in the dead center of the runway, flung your hat offstage, and looked boldly and deliberately right into Nick’s eyes, the devilish grin returning. 

Baby, what’s my name?

And you finished with a jump split, throwing your hand up in the air on the button. The crowd went absolutely berserk, but you only had eyes for one. Everyone around him was hooting and hollering, but he took a deep breath, returned the devilish smile, brought his fingers to his lips to give you a chef’s kiss, and tossed the rest of his drink into his mouth. His deep blue eyes never left yours. 

“That was our own darling Angel! And I’ll have Sympathy for any Devil that tries to take her out of Heaven,” Rhodey announced playfully over the PA system, making you giggle as you stood up, flicking your fingers goodbye, and exited. To your surprise, most of the other girls were backstage- apparently they’d come out to watch. They hadn’t done that since you very first started. 

“BABE that was FIRE!!!” Gamora moaned, snatching your robe and holding it out for you as Sprite hustled onstage to gather your things. “Shit, you’re gonna make ‘em run outta money before we even get out there,” she giggled, teasing you, as the other girls cheered and congratulated you in turn. You were even feeling a little proud of yourself- until you saw Nebula’s haughty, unimpressed face. 

“I don’t know,” she said nonchalantly to the crowd around you all. “I think it’s just because she’s new blood.” Nebula turned and smiled nastily at you. “Some people have a tendency to lose interest quickly once that ‘new car smell’ wears off.” You felt the color drain from your face as you suddenly felt like a worthless cast-off. 

Gamora, however, wasn’t having it. She turned and slugged Nebula on the arm as hard as she could. “Jesus Christ, why are you such a bitch?” she snarled as Nebula yelled in pain. “How the hell could I have turned out so fabulous when my own damn sister is such a raging cu-”

“Okay, that’s enough ladies,” Natasha interrupted suddenly, appearing out of nowhere. “Nebula, lose the attitude, watch your mouth, and get on deck. Gamora, quit punching your way into- and out- of arguments,” she commanded both of them. “Angel,” she said, turning to you with a much kinder tone. “Nice job tonight, sweetheart. Go back to the dressing room and get ready. I’ll have Sprite bring your stuff to you in a moment.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed, and turned to obey. You mouthed ‘thank you’ at Gamora, who gave you a saucy grin. You saw her glare at her sister again, but didn’t stick around to see the aftermath. You didn’t have time- you had to get ready. You were going to see him. 

27 deep breaths later, you were outside the Champagne Room, freshened up and in the outfit you’d obsessed over all day. Your insides buzzed with nerves, excitement, and adrenaline. You took your 28th deep breath and opened the door. And there he was, waiting for you. 

Nick was sitting in the same location you had first seen him last night- only this time he was holding a glass of champagne instead of a tumbler of bourbon. His black-on-black ensemble made your mouth water for some reason; he was too handsome for his own good. You watched with secret delight as he desperately tried not to let his eyes rake up and down your body; it was obvious he really wanted to. You tried to keep that compliment close in your mind and not let it twist into another self-insult. He spoke first. 

“Bravo on a fantastic performance, Miss Angel,” Nick said, standing up and waltzing over to the bar, his eyes never leaving yours. He began pouring you a flute as he continued speaking. “Gotta say, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen someone strip to the Rolling Stones.” You giggled at that, blushing and ducking your head at his compliment. He strode back to you, his very steps echoing the power you felt him emitting. He gave you the glass, then clinked his own against yours. “Cheers,” he said. 

“Cheers,” you replied, biting your lip and looking down, trying to contain your stupid wide grin. 

“Uh uh,” he said sternly, shaking his head. He put a finger under your chin and raised your eyes to his. “Look me in the eye when you say ‘cheers’,” he said firmly but not unkindly. 

Something in your very soul instantly responded to him, drawing you like a moth to a flame. You wanted to do whatever he told you to. Almost before you realized it, your eyes had locked back onto his. “That’s better,” he almost purred. He clinked your glasses again. “NOW cheers,” he said, with that mischievous grin. 

“Now cheers,” you agreed, your heart rapidly beating its new rhythm, trying to make up for the beats it had just lost. You hastily took a huge swallow just as he finished his. 

“You have to look people in the eyes when you cheers,” Nick explained, a hint of the devil in his smile. “Otherwise it’s seven years’ bad sex.”

You choked on your champagne. 

Nick carefully patted you on the back as you spluttered, not even trying to hide his puckish grin. Once you could breath again without fear of champagne splurting out of your nose, you glared at him. He just chuckled evilly before returning to the couch and sitting down. 

“I’ve never heard that medley of Stones’ songs before,” he said, back to his charming self. He seemed to hide a bit of a smile as you sat down next to him- no hesitation this time like yesterday. “Where’s it from?”

“It’s from the same musical as the song that I...” you suddenly stuttered a bit. The idea of saying ‘danced to for you’ last night seemed indecently intimate for some reason (which was ridiculous as you WORKED IN A STRIP CLUB, you internally yelled at yourself), and you just couldn’t make those words come out of your mouth. “...performed last night in here,” you cobbled out lamely ugh loser. 

Nick nodded, choosing not to comment on the moment. “You like that musical,” he said as if he were observing something about you. “You a theater fan?”

“Big time. You?”

“I might have to become one, if those are the kind of songs they’re doing nowadays.”

The next two hours flew by as the two of you talked and talked and talked. You were only supposed to spend one hour with him, but when Fury poked his head in to tell you time was up, Nick just waved a hand at him. Normally, that would have made Fury toss any other patron out on his ear, but this time he just nodded back and carefully shut the door. Who was this guy, to hold that kind of power over Fury?

Thinking quickly, you tilted your head to the now-closed door. “You paying for the second hour, then?” you asked boldly, feeling a lot more loose after the fantastic conversation you’d been having. 

“Something like that.”

“You must be running up quite a tab here.”

“Don’t worry. Natasha will track me down when the check comes.”

“Do you...often run up a tab here?” you asked, your steel persona slipping a bit, afraid of the answer. Nick seemed to understand that. He leaned forward, tilting his head at you and letting those blue eyes twinkle. 

“Not like this,” he said softly. “Never like this.”

You were so delighted at that you couldn’t speak for a moment. He seemed to enjoy you getting flustered, but took pity on you and changed the subject. In fact, he seemed to do that a lot. Any time you tried to steer the conversation towards his job or why he was such a high-roller at the club, or even his name, he masterfully swung back around to something that would distract you just enough to get off the subject. You knew better than to push in a direction he didn’t want to go...but you definitely noticed he was doing it. And it made you curious. Very curious. Two could play at that game. 

Despite his best teasing efforts, you refused to give up your real name until he did- which he was not about to do in the slightest. It often resulted in a spirited and creative verbal battle that, more often than not, left you both in tears of laughter. 

Finally, when it was getting clear that the night had to come to an end, he stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, feeling like a rockstar again. This man made you feel like a rockstar. That had never happened...in this way...before....

He escorted you to the door, then kissed your hand reverently. You wished with all your might he’d take off those gloves and touch your skin again, or even more you wished he’d just lean forward and kiss you. It’s just a kiss away...But he straightened up, smiling handsomely at you. 

“Bravo again on your performance tonight. I look forward to tomorrow’s,” he said chivalrously. 

“‘Pleased to meet you’,” you quoted to him sassily, with a grin. He responded with his own. “‘Hope you guess my name’,” you teased with the lyrics that you had known would capture his attention.

His grin morphed in that heady combination of sex appeal and power, making you instantly melt. And he noticed it, closing the already-small gap between the two of you. 

“‘But what’s puzzling YOU is the nature of MY game’,” he whispered wickedly in your ear. “Until tomorrow, Miss Angel.”

Chapter 6

#mafia!bucky #mafia bucky #mafia bucky x reader #mafia!bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky #mob bucky barnes #MOB BOSS BUCKY #mob boss bucky barnes #mob boss bucky x reader #mob!boss bucky #mob!boss bucky x reader

[cutecurly-hair]

Hearts Unleashed (Part 4)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Body Shaming

Words: 3,718

In future chapters I am going to change a few things and spice a few things up just for story purposes.

"Charlie, slow down!" I yelled, my breath coming in gasps as my heart pounded in my chest. The air was crisp with cold, but my body burned with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Trying to keep up with Charlie, my feet felt like they were on the verge of giving out.

He glanced back with a smug expression. "This is a race, isn't it?" he questioned, maintaining his brisk pace. I'd have a witty comeback if I weren't currently running for dear life.

As if reading my thoughts, Charlie offered a tempting proposition, "If you can make it to the finish line, I'll get you that milkshake you've been craving." He casually wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Internally groaning, I realized Charlie knew precisely where to hit me my weakness for sweets.

"Come on, Year 10!" Coach Singh's voice echoed across the field. "We've been doing this all term, and no one's beaten Charlie's time yet."

Feeling a surge of determination, I picked up my pace, pulling alongside Charlie. Gasping for breath, I managed to blurt out, "I want a vanilla shake with sprinkles on top." He shot me an impressed look, nodding, "A deal is a deal."

"Come on! Yes!" Coach cheered. "There you go, Y/N. Keep at it. Keep it moving!" she urged.

"Don't stop, Y/N, before Charlie leaves you in the dust!" she shouted. My face grew warm, and it wasn't just from the running. Maintaining my focus on the finish line, I couldn't ignore Nick Nelson's gaze fixed on me. My breath caught, causing me to stumble and lose my footing. Falling face first in the ground, Coach winced blowing the whistle.

I did not get up; I did not move I just laid there in embarrassment. as if the ground could somehow swallow me whole.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

As I pressed the bandage onto my knee, wincing at the pain, Charlie shot me a concerned look. "You sure you're, okay?" he asked, and I just nodded, trying to ignore the ache.

"At least you'll have a good-looking scar," he joked while struggling with his books from the stubborn locker. I scoffed, "Trust me, I've got enough scars already," giving Charlie a quick glance as he continued his battle with the uncooperative locker.

"You know we're going to be late for class, right?" I reminded him, checking the clock across the hall.

He grimaced, "Don't worry, I almost got it—" Suddenly, a loud ripping sound filled the air, and he gasped, eyes widening.

"Clearly, you don't," I teased, nudging him aside to take matters into my own hands.

Grabbing the books, I tugged gently, finally loosening them. I couldn't help but smile, saying, "See, it's all about the touch—"

"Hey," Nick Nelson's voice interrupted as he approached. Startled, I lost my grip, and all the books came crashing to the floor.

"Maybe it's not all about the touch," Charlie said sarcastically, and I could see annoyance written all over his face as he eyed the scattered books on the floor. Ignoring his comment, I crouched down to pick up the books, and Nick followed suit. As I nervously gathered the books, I cursed at myself, wondering why I was suddenly so nervous.

Standing up, I finally looked at him, and he gave me a soft smile. Quickly grabbing the books from him, I didn't want him to notice how sweaty my hands had gotten in the last ten seconds.

"Thanks," I said, smiling back. He looked down at my hands and quirked a brow, "You play the drums?"

I shook my head, "These are actually Charlie's drumsticks. I'm more into photography, actually," cringing internally at why that piece of information was necessary.

"Nevertheless, that's really cool," he said with genuine excitement in his eyes. My smile grew wider; it was the first time someone had complimented my love for photography. My stomach felt like it was doing somersaults again, and I didn't quite understand what this boy was doing to me.

Charlie cleared his throat. "We have class, so…" he intervened. I looked back at him, giving him a 'now you want to go to class?' look, and he just shrugged his shoulders.

Nick got the point "Oh right, sorry I had something I wanted to ask you...Do you think that maybe you can be our equipment manager?" he said looking at me hopefully but a look with uncertainty.

"I also think that you should join the Rugby team to, we have enough for the team but were not allowed to actually play against other teams without a reserve," Nick explained to Charlie, he continued "And I saw you run in PE and you're, like, really fast." he confessed.

Turning back to me, looking down at my knee worried etched into to his face. Making me remember all over again how I fell flat on my ass right in front of him, I swear I can feel my face getting hot. "So...I thought you might be interested." he finished.

Me staring agape at him not really knowing what to say, Charlie speaking up "I don't know how to play,"

"I can teach you how to play if that makes you feel any better?" Nick offered looking at me for my response.

Feeling a little hesitant, I joined in, "And I have no experience as an equipment manager."

"You just have to make sure that you have enough equipment for the game when the time comes," he reassured me. Still not feeling good about it, he could sense the unease in my eyes.

"There's only a good number of guys on the team, so I am sure it won't be too difficult for you,"

Crossing my arms, I replied, "I am sure I will be able to handle it; it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Wait, no. no," Nick said, shaking his head, clearly regretting his words.

I smiled, breaking the tension. Sensing my sarcasm, we both broke into laughter. I don't know why I like messing with him from time to time.

"Um… so, do you want to join?"

I might be over my head; I never get cold feet, but this was definitely out of my element. The idea of becoming the equipment manager for the rugby team and possibly joining them felt like I had stepped into uncharted territory. It's not that I wasn't up for a challenge, but sports and managing equipment weren't exactly my forte. Maybe I should have offered to take pictures for the yearbook or something.

Regret started to seep in as I made my way toward the locker room, spotting just outside of the door. "Charlie, why are you-" I stopped mid-sentence when I heard voices behind the door.

"He's, like, well skinny though."

"Can he even play?"

"I am sure he's a nice guy, but we actually want to be decent."

"Does he even like sports? Everyone knows that he is gay."

Glancing at Charlie, the look of absolute despair on his face mirrored the flood of laughter that filled my ears.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I interrupted, pushing through the door. The group fell silent, their laughter trailing off as they turned to face me. The tension in the air was palpable. The distinct aroma of sweat and feet hung in the air, making me scrunch my nose. "Did a cat catch your tongue, or is this the first time you've seen a girl before?" I snapped, the sarcasm dripping from every word.

The silence was deafening, and I caught a little smirk on Nick's face as he tried to hide it.

Charlie, not knowing what else to do, just said, "Hi."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

Watching the boys tackle each other on the field made me wince inside. I forgot how physical and intense rugby could be, and judging by Charlie's expression, he was probably having second thoughts about joining the team. Coach Singh had filled me in on my duties as the equipment manager, and it seemed I was essentially the team's maid. Cleaning uniforms before practice, ensuring gear was in good condition, and tidying up the storage room were all part of my newfound responsibilities. The glamorous life of an equipment manager.

"I am definitely too weak for this," Charlie muttered under his breath.

"Well, I'm sure it's not that bad. You just run and tackle, right?" I said, attempting to uplift the mood, though I was probably talking straight out of my ass.

"Y/N is exactly right. Where is your 'can-do' attitude?" Nick chimed in, coming into full view. My eyes widened as I took in the sight of him in his rugby gear. His athleticism stood out, creating a whole different demeanor that I am not used to. The lopsided smile appeared on his face, and all my coherent thoughts seemed to vanish away.

"She left. Long ago," Charlie retaliated, not budging for a second, trying to encourage him.

"I am sure that you can do it" I said giving him a nudged earning me a glare.

"Y/N why don't you just tackling me so you can give Charlie an example," Nick suggested like it was most wonderful thing in the world.

My jaw dropped, I can hear Charlie chuckling in the background, "Absolutely not!" I exclaimed shaking my head.

"Just try. Tackle me, I won't dodge. I promise," he said getting into position. "I will go easy on you,"

My jaw ticked. Oh, he definitely doesn't have to go easy on me. I was more than capable. "I won't hold back," I stated, and Charlie caught a glance of my determined face, kindly taking a step back.

"Come on, I bet you can do it," Nick persisted, giving me a challenging smile. The field seemed to narrow down to just the two of us, the anticipation building with every step I took. With a deep breath, I charged toward Nick, focusing solely on making a solid tackle.

His body felt like a solid rock beneath me as I pinned him down, the satisfying thud echoing across the field. I couldn't help but grin. "Was that good?" I panted, catching my breath.

"That was perfect," he replied, his surprise evident as he swiftly got back on his feet. The rugby team, observing from the sidelines, exchanged weird glances.

"Was it really?" I asked, a surge of excitement coursing through me.

"Yeah, it was actually pretty impressive," Nick admitted, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Now, let's try again while I'm actually moving," he suggested, his infectious smile revealing he was relishing the challenge.

"Don't you think it's Charlie's turn to practice?" I playfully suggested, glancing at Charlie, whose grin mirrored my own. Nick erupted into laughter, and the sound reverberated through the air, welcoming that fuzzy feeling again.

As he laughed, Nick's whole vibe shifted, and I could swear I saw glimpses of that rumored golden retriever in him. The warmth in his eyes and the sheer joy of the moment made me oddly glad that I had stepped in for Charlie.

It was in that moment, as Nick's laughter filled the air and the warmth of his gaze lingered on me, that a subtle warmth crept into my face. In the midst of all the fun, something inside me was starting to spark, even if I didn't fully realize it at the time.

The days melted together, leaving me with moments I'll definitely try not to forget. It's funny, from the intense tackling drills to scrubbing jerseys, I somehow became this part of the rugby world. Like, way more involved than I'd openly admit.

And then there's Nick. His smile? Always there. Every laugh we shared felt like this tiny step closer to... well, I wasn't quite sure. But it was something. The sun would set, casting this warm glow over the field, I would snap a few pictures here and there some with just the boys acting complete idiots or some with just...Nick.

Between the banter and the constant thud of rugby boots, Nick and I found these quiet corners where we'd talk about more than just the game. He'd patiently explain the ins and outs of rugby, which I'd sometimes compared to a mix of American football and soccer. Let's just say he wasn't exactly thrilled about that.

I hung around until all the guys had left the locker room, finally giving me the chance to grab my book bag. Coach Singh had made it crystal clear that I should steer clear when the guys are changing or in the locker room. It doesn't bother me much, but it's clear that some of the guys aren't thrilled about having me as the equipment manager.

Exiting the locker room, I caught sight of Nick lingering by the exit. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be gone by now?" I asked, trying to sound casual, but I couldn't help stealing a quick glance at him. I have noticed I have been doing that a lot lately.

He sighed "My mum is running late, actually. Are you going to be heading home by yourself," he asked looking around noticing no one is with me.

"Me and Charlie usually walk home together," I said lowly noticing that he is not even outside, Nick noticing my confusion he looked even more confused "I just saw Charlie leave a couple minutes ago? Do you need a ride I can always ask my mum," he offered his voiced laced with concerned already pulling out his phone.

I waved him off "Please, there is no need, I am fine with walking," you explained.

"I can't have you walking by yourself, it's almost getting dark," he explained already texting his mom.

Grabbing hold of his arm, I tried to stop him from texting. "Absolutely not! You're not winning this time!" he shouted, struggling to break free from my grip. He held his phone up high, just out of my reach, and for a split second, I saw his thumb brush the send button.

A triumphant smile broke out on his face, and my chest deflated. "I can't believe you did that," I sighed.

"You'll thank me later. You would've gotten frostbite by the time you got home," he argued.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I retorted, "I can handle the cold just fine, thank you very much," hugging myself tighter to conserve warmth.

He clearly didn't believe me, but I couldn't care less. "You know, you've got a pretty strong grip there," he remarked, wincing a bit on the arm that I had grabbed.

"I did say I wouldn't hold back that day, and I meant it," I replied with a proud smile.

"Are you sure you don't want me on the team officially? You could be a pretty good asset," he teased, well aware that it wasn't possible, and truth be told, I didn't want to join.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm sure the guys on the team would despise me even more," I confessed, lacing my words with sarcasm.

"Huh, what are you talking about? None of the guys think that" he asserted.

I chuckled. "Please, don't think I haven't noticed the things they say behind my back. Especially Charlie! That Harry guy really has some nerve-"

"Well, they can simply piss off then. You don't owe them anything. I don't know why they can be such dicks sometimes," he huffed, frustration darkening his eyes, his jaw tightly clenched. I began to realize that I had never seen him angry or upset before. Curiosity getting the better of me, I asked,

"Why did you even ask me to join anyway?" holding my arms closer to my chest.

"Well, I kind of noticed how sad you were about the whole Film club being shut down, so I thought this would help," he said lowly, scratching the back of his head.

A small speck of warmth started to fill my chest; my stomach started to get all fuzzy again. Did he care that much? I tried not smile from ear to ear covering it with a cough.

"We should get out, we'll get locked in if we stay here much longer,"

Walking out the school, I finally noticed how the seasons has changed, looking upon the trees noticing how the leaves have changed at such short amount of time. Reminding me that it's going to get even colder as the days go on.

A sleek black car idled on the school's side, and as I approached, an unexpected wave of nervousness hit me. The realization that I was about to catch a ride with the most popular guy in school, and more importantly, with his mom, made my palms slightly sweaty.

Nick graciously opened the car door for me, and with a mumbled 'thank you,' I settled into the back seat. An inviting blend of subtle vanilla, smoke, and musk lingered in the air. The warmth enveloped me, a clear sign that the heater was working overtime, prompting a sigh of relief as I sank into the seat, finding an unexpected sense of relaxation.

As the car hummed to life, Nick's mom, turned around with a friendly smile that illuminated the interior. Her hazel brown eyes seemed to effortlessly match Nick's, and the smile lines etched around her eyes added a touch of genuine warmth. He clearly inherited more than just looks from his mom.

"Oh, thank you so much for giving me a ride Ms. Nelson,"

"Oh, it is certainly not a problem. I can't have you walking home by yourself. Feel free to call me Sarah," she beamed, her gaze meeting mine through the rearview mirror. I wasn't about to call a full-grown adult by their first name; my mom would kill me for that.

Nick quickly got in car buckling his seatbelt, I can tell he's nervous just by his posture, I have never seen him sit that straight in my life.

"Where do you live dear?" she said, driving out of the school in the street.

"Its 5693 Railway Drive, it's called the Avalone Suites," I said hesitantly, I am still struggling to remember my street name.

"You accent is just adorable, I rarely get to hear it unless I am watching TV," she commented.

I smiled, appreciating the compliment, it better than getting gawked at from just speaking.

As we drove through the familiar streets, Sarah turned to me with a warm smile. "So, Y/N, how's everything at school? Making friends? Nicky has been telling about you being the equipment manager for the team."

Nicky

Nick flamed up like a Christmas tree, he looked utterly embarrassed. Sarah looked at him oddly for a brief moment. I tried to surpass a laugh. Has he really been talking about me to his mom?

I nodded, feeling at ease with her friendly demeanor. "Yeah, it's going well. I'm getting to know people, especially with the rugby team. They're an interesting bunch."

Nick chuckled from the front seat, "Yeah, they are something. But Y/N's been a great addition, though."

I blushed a bit, if I get anymore compliments today, I think I might just overheat. Sarah joined in, "That's wonderful to hear. Nicky always been social, but it's nice to see him meeting new friends."

With a glance at Nick, I added, "Yeah, he's been a great friend, too. Really made me feel welcome on the team."

Nick, looking briefly at me, gave a small, appreciative smile. Sarah, noticing the exchange, smiled knowingly. It was silence throughout the ride until we pulled at my house.

Getting out of the car being welcomed back into the cold air I made sure to thank Nick's mom and giving Nick a grateful smile "Thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it,"

Sarah waved me off with a warm smile. "Oh, love, it was the least I could do. Anytime you need a lift, just let me know."

Grateful for the ride, I said, "Thanks, Ms. Nelson. I'll remember that." With a friendly smile, I walked into the house, and the smile just wouldn't fade.

Mom, still in her work clothes and seemingly ready to start dinner, peeked through the doorway. "Back so soon? What's making you smile like that?"

I shook my head, "Oh, nothing much. Just got a ride from a friend." I kept it short; no need to spill all the details, especially about getting a ride from a boy and his mom. That might lead to more questions than I was ready to answer.

My mom shot me a suspicious look before pointing at my shoes. "Make sure to take your shoes off; I just mopped the floors," she ordered, retreating back into the kitchen. I quickly kicked off my shoes and headed to my room, feeling the relief of finally being in my own space.

As I opened my phone, I shot a text to Charlie to make sure he got home okay. Ignoring the stack of homework on my desk, I decided to scroll through Instagram. The usual suggestions of people I barely knew filled the screen, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught Nick's profile popping up.

My finger hesitated over the screen, stuck in that classic "to click or not to click" dilemma. After a brief mental battle, I thought, "Ah, screw it," and tapped on his profile.

Surprise hit me when I saw he was already following me. His profile was like a window into his life, and I found myself scrolling through the mix of photos and posts. My fingers moved across the screen, unsure of where to start.

I groaned at my own indecisiveness. Thinking for a moment, I decided to send a text, pondering over what to say. I hesitated over each word, the cursor blinking impatiently on my screen. "Come on, Y/N, get it together," I muttered under my breath, my fingers hovering over the keys.

I typed in a simple 'Thank you' and sent it, blinking twice at the text, realizing that I accidentally included a heart emoji. I could have sent a smiley face or something but for god sakes not the heart emoji. Fucking autocorrect.

Checking to see if Charlie texted back yet, but all he did was leave me on read.

Part 5: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/742105652967669760/the-weekend-flew-by-and-before-i-knew-it-monday?source=share

#nick nelson x y/n #nick nelson x reader #nick nelson x fem!reader #nick nelson x blackreader #nick nelson fanfic #kit connor #heartstopper #charlie spring #black!fem!reader #black reader #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper fandom #heartstopper fanfic

[emeraldborealis]

Crying Buddy

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

TW//CW: Angst, hurt/comfort, mention of abuse, anxiety attacks, blood, no use of y/n, slow burn, very long.

Words: 16,305

A/N: I have been working on this fic on and off for over a year now, I started it before volume 2 even came out. But I kind of took a break from writing it because it made me sad. Somehow I resurrected this fic and story though and I'm really excited to share it and be done with it. I put a lot of hard work into this.

Just so there's no confusion they meet out at the climbing dome a lot more than the few times I have written, I mention in the story it's almost nightly. If there was enough interest I would consider adding onto this story and progressing it further.

March 5

It was a chilly night, just like any other. Sitting on the old rusted climbing dome in the shitty trailer court I had the displeasure to call home. But home didn't feel like home anymore, it hadn't for a long time. Maybe that's why I was out in the cold crying instead of inside where it is warm. It just- feels more welcoming.

Racks of shivers and violent convulses shot throughout my body, shaking me to the core. Not from the cold but my attempts to silence my atrocious sobs. My cries were always expected to be silent, I wasn't supposed to be a bother to people, it was considered rude and impolite to inflict others with my feelings.

The tears fell taking parts of me with them, with the almost silent sound of each drop hitting the gravel, the dreams and visions of me getting out slowly fell with them. Even if I fought tooth and nail I could never be seen as more than the sum of my parts. I'd only ever be called lesser.

I didn't want to do this anymore. I didn't want to have to sit out in the cold to be able to cry and get some form of release. To be able to let myself think and process everything, to be able to exit survival mode for a moment. Because it never lasted long, I'd be right back out here in a few nights anyway.

I just wanted it all to stop. For me to stop.

My hands sat hopelessly perched on my knees, picking at each other, tearing the skin from around my nails. Anything to feel the sting of what I felt I deserved, because if I hurt myself, punished myself- it felt undeserved from others. I could keep playing the victim if I was the one punishing myself.

The sound of a snapping twig paralyzed me, was I too loud? Was it my dad? Thoughts of paranoia and fear sent my mind spiraling deeper into despair. Slowly I turned my head to find a boy on the other side of the dome, it didn't look like he had noticed me yet.

He was mumbling to himself, occasionally sniffling. Was he crying? I knew the boy, I mean I frequently saw him around school, it would be strange to not know who he was. Eddie 'the freak' Munson was what a lot of people titled him as. We had a few classes together, and I knew he lived in this trailer court with his uncle. But, that didn't explain what he was doing here. Right now. Crying.

Carefully I tried to silently climb down off of the metal bars of the climbing dome to hopefully escape before being noticed, but my foot slipped. His head shot over to look at me, I looked up at him with dread, awkwardly still on the bars. "I'm sorry-" My voice was quiet and hoarse from crying, it sounded so tragic and depressing. The lump constricting my throat was preventing me from saying anything more.

He continued to stare at me, I didn't dare to move. It felt like if I did a spotlight would be shined down onto me from above, exposing how much of a mess I was to him and to the world. Exposing every secret I fought so hard to keep. "Are you crying?" He asked softly, leaning onto his side of the bars trying to see me better in the dark.

I thought I had cried enough- gotten it all out. But the simple question paired with his gentle dulcet tone was like opening a floodgate to my tears and emotions. "No." I croaked out. It was an obvious lie, even a fool could see through.

There was a sense of fear in my voice, one I couldn't hide. I wasn't scared of Eddie, not by a long shot. I was just terrified of being seen, of being vulnerable in front of someone. Anyone.

"There's no need to be scared, I know I might look scary but I'm not going to hurt you, it's ok." Slowly but surely he made his way around the metal dome, keeping his hands out trying to look as non threatening as possible, it reminded me of how you would approach a frightened animal. I guess in a way that's what I was- a frightened animal

"It's not you I'm scared of." The sound of the gravel crunching under every delicate step he took made me flinch, everything in me was telling me to run, to not let him see me like I was. But my body wouldn't move. It couldn't.

"What are you scared of?" He finally reached me and his eyes flashed with realization of who the stranger in the dark was. That it was me. I turned my face away from him, trying to hide. I felt ashamed. Humiliated. I hated crying in front of people, letting them see how disheveled and fragile I really am.

"Please just go away." I couldn't escape, I couldn't move. Pathetically pleading with him to leave was my only last-ditch effort to save myself. My dignity.

He didn't leave, he just let out a hum and sat on the bar beside me. Confused, I stole a glance at him, but he wasn't looking at me. Instead his eyes were focused on the tree line ahead of us. Deep in thought.

"What are you doing?" I asked timidly, scared if I spoke too loud he would turn me in, set off an alarm and draw everything I was trying to avoid to me, like a shark to the scent of blood.

"Well, I came out here to clear my head, but then I found you here... And I can't just leave you crying out here alone. Or- Maybe I'm the one who doesn't want to be alone. It's kind of hard to say which." He glanced over to me, our eyes meeting for a moment before he looked away again, obviously feeling a bit awkward. Silence fell between us for a long moment before he spoke up again. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" I couldn't stop myself from closing myself off, pretending nothing was wrong even when I was still trying to suppress the tremors surging through my body. "Do you want to talk about why you're out here? Since you're at my crying spot."

"Your crying spot? I don't see your name written on it." He joked looking over to me again, a goofy grin shining on his face.

I let out a small chuckle looking over to him with my red puffy eyes. "Are the tears covering the bars not enough to lay claim to it?" He laughed at my playful retort. "So, why are you out here?"

"I guess- because I'm tired of being everywhere else." His voice trailed off becoming serious again, an audible lump quickly forming in his throat. I hummed in acknowledgment. I didn't know a lot about Eddie, but I could sympathize with his words.

It felt like everyone had a sad or tragic reason to be here, to live at this trailer court. We were all cursed and dumped here like trash. The undesirables. We were stuck here, never moving. Never progressing. There was no way out, we were just a cesspool of people no one wanted around. We all had our different circumstances and reasons why we were here but we all shared in one thing, our misery.

"Me too." I meekly turned to look at him, a look of sympathy and understanding in my eyes. "I feel that way too." Our eyes met for a long time, his once unwanted presence growing on me. He had so much to tell in his dark doe like eyes, people always say the eyes are the window to the soul. But I had never believed that until looking into his, at this moment.

His eyes searched mine too, we shared a thousand unspoken words, feelings we couldn't articulate, neither knew the true story behind why either of us were out here, but we shared in the pain we both clearly felt.

His hand was shaky as it moved towards me, seeking a level of comfort I wasn't ready to share, his hand fell short when he realized that. "I'm sorry." He whispered, turning to look towards the trees once more.

"It's alright." I whispered looking down to the ground, my eyes unfocused themselves on his shoes. Zoning out as they wandered over his white sneakers, they were dirty, worn, but they looked well taken care of. He probably needed to make them last, and he cared to maintain the white as best he could, tried to keep them clean.

Silence fell between us again and eventually my crying picked back up. I didn't want to cry in front of him, but he wasn't leaving. And it kind of felt nice to have him sitting near me, silent and unquestioning.

"Do you ever wish you could disappear?" My question was timid and mindless. More of a way to fill the silence with something other than my muffled cries.

"Only every day." He glanced down at me, noticing my ceaseless shaking. Shrugging off his vest and leather jacket he handed them to me. "Here. You're shaking." Accepting them without a fight I slipped them on, I wasn't shaking from the cold, but I didn't think he'd understand that if I tried to protest, probably insisting I take them anyway.

The weight and warmth of his jacket did comfort me, made me feel less alone, less out of place. 

They smelled like him too, he had a musky smell of incense and vanilla, a hint of amber lay deep within the leather of his jacket. It surprisingly did help to tame the incessant shaking involuntarily racking my frame.

"Thank you." I sunk myself deeper into his jacket, letting it consume me.

"It's uhh, no problem." His eyes lingered on me, taking in the sight. Trying to find a way to me, to reach me. How to help me.

"Why do you want to disappear?" I asked timidly, allowing us to lock eyes once more.

"Just tired of being around I guess, being stared at, laughed at. The butt of everyone's joke. Treated with nothing but animosity. But I think they're just jealous, jealous I'm non conforming to the societal views they are." I knew how people treated him at school, hell in this town. Knew what they thought of him. I knew how it felt to be looked at like that. Like you're the spawn of Satan, like everyone would be better off without you around. A more perfect community. "What about you? Why do you want to disappear?"

"I was never meant to be here in the first place, it was an accident. One I think would be better for everyone if I took it back." Breaking my gaze from him I looked to the stars, admiring the way they twinkled and shined against the inky night sky.

"I don't want you to disappear." His hand gently came to my shoulder, tempting the boundaries between us. He had a look of desperation in his dark chocolate eyes. It made me burn with remorse that it was for me.

Before tonight I'd never even had a real conversation with him, never even given him a second thought. I had actively avoided him along with everyone else at the school, never making eye contact or anything. I had treated him horribly by never treating him right.

But I avoided everyone, I couldn't look at anyone. I really didn't view him any differently than anyone else, I never saw him as a freak or mutant, he was really no stranger to me than any other faceless peer I spent my life avoiding because I'd already written myself off, convinced myself I'm better off in no one's story. I knew I needed to pay for my existence, so I pushed everyone away.

"I think I already have." His eyes seemed to see into me, not through me, but into me. It was almost startling. I'd never had anyone ever look at me like that. He saw me.

I felt a sense of panic wash over me at the thought of what he might see in my eyes, how deeply he could see into me. I didn't want him to see me, but I didn't want to look away, I wanted to keep peering through his deep brown pools of his raw emotions until I drowned in them.

March 10

Walking through the bustling halls I kept my head down, the noise of everything rang in my ears, but nothing registered to me. None of this felt real, it didn't feel like it was happening. Like I wasn't real. Like I was only spectating myself. Holding my things close to my chest I avoided everything.

I ignored all conversation around me, any potential mockery from cliques as I passed, I could almost feel the things they'd say about me. They'd say how strange I was, how I never talked with anyone, how there was probably a reason for that, but that the reason was because I was the problem. They all knew I didn't belong. They'd get along better if I didn't bother coming anymore.

It was hard to breath, the noise of every sound in the hallway was too much, the squeaking and tapping of shoes, the talking, shouting, shrill laughter. I was hyper aware of the space I took as I made my way through a sea of peers, I could feel my clothes on my spine and the anxious sweat forming in my armpits.

The shudder sent through me from the reckless weight of each of my footfalls was the only thing grounding me to reality, I didn't care much to brace any of my steps, I didn't care about procuring the longevity of my bones or joints. I just threw my feet down where they'd land. My steps weren't loud, in fact they were surprisingly quiet for the way I shuffled through life.

Grabbing the headphones to my Walkman I put them over my ears, no music played, they merely muffled the overwhelming sound of living.

Taking my seat in class I looked out the window, the sky was clear and perfectly blue, the kind of blue you could drown in without thinking twice. The kind of blue you'd associate with falling or flying, the kind of blue you could feel shift between your fingers when you have your arm out the open window while you drive.

As more students began filtering in the weight of eyes felt heavy on me, it felt like everyone in the room was watching me, conspiring about me, but when I looked around none of those in or coming in the room were even looking at me. No one was talking about me. This fact did not help the feeling dissipate.

Class after class I'd be thrown back into the hallways, my eyes would never leave the floor, my attention never from my thoughts. Shifting through everyone was easy enough with practice, most moved from my way, others I'd move around. I got to know people's paths by their legs, knew who to move around by what feet would come into my tunneled vision. I never cared to know who owned the legs that would come into my view, I just wanted to get by without anyone bothering me.

And then, shoes- white shoes; slightly dirty and worn shoes, shoes I knew came into my tunnel of vision, only for a moment, then they were gone. Stopping in my tracks, for the first time I wanted to follow those shoes, even if just with my eyes, but I never turned to look. My eyes couldn't leave the ground in front of me, so I continued down my known path. Never knowing if those shoes ever turned from their charted course to look at me. A part of me hoped they did.

March 20

Once more I sat perched on the cold bars of the climbing dome, the cold night air welcoming me home. I couldn't see the stars tonight, there was too much cloud cover. The soft glow of the moon could barely be seen through the thick, dark clouds.

It was hard to pinpoint why I was crying this particular night, it might have been the fight I had with my father, or perhaps my failing grades. Maybe it was my longing for a morbid and dejected release from here. Maybe it was just the piling of everything until I couldn't take it anymore.

I wanted more than anything to scream, to scream until my vocal cords tore themselves apart, scream until my problems ceased to be, scream until the pain and bruises went away. But I knew I couldn't. If I got caught out here it would undoubtedly spell my demise.

So instead, to keep a hold on my whimpered sobs I dug my nails into my palms, crescent indents covered my hands, some deep enough to bruise, others broken into the skin. It was the only way I knew to keep myself from screaming, to refocus my mind somewhere else.

When my nails weren't enough I'd bite into my cheeks or lips to suppress any noise until I tasted iron.

It hurt to feel so much, but to be unable, unallowed to process it, to work through what was bringing me so much pain and begin to heal. It was a cut that always bleeds, I'd never have enough quick fixes or band-aids for something this engraved in me.

The lump in my throat burned, it seared like a red hot coal begging to come dislodged from my esophagus. It was suffocating. It hurt to breathe, but not breathing made it almost hurt worse.

"Out here again?" Eddie's voice made me jump, nearly making me slip off of the bars, but I was able to recover. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I thought you heard me approach."

"It's alright. Not your fault." It felt like hundreds of razor blades were cutting into my throat when I spoke, it came out sounding like it too.

Eddie gave me a sympathetic look as he planted himself on the bars beside me. "Any particular reason you're out here tonight?" He asked, looking up to the sky, maybe admiring the same darkness I had, or the way the moonglow shimmered despite the clouds' attempts at obstructing its light.

"I don't know." I brought my knees in closer to my chest, leaning against one of the bars for balance. The bar hurt on my spine, but I couldn't care enough to move.

"Well, what's on your mind?" Eddie turned to look towards me now, he was patient and really just trying to understand. He wanted to feel what I felt, he didn't want me to be alone. He knew the kind of pain I was going through, he'd been through it, he was going through it. He just didn't know how to tell me that. So he kept quiet about his feelings, feeling I needed someone more than he did.

"It's just- Just a lot. I don't know, it's hard to explain." Tears began overflowing from my eyes, the pain and emotions from talking were all bubbling up like soda pop. I didn't want to get into it, I didn't want to try. It'd only make it hurt more, I'd only want to scream more. Nothing could be solved through complaining. I should just shut up, be silent and complacent, it'd be better that way. It'd be better that way.

"Can you maybe try?" Permission. He gave me permission to express my pain, and like a running of the bulls, each thought; feeling, emotion, were all fighting to get through the narrow pathway of my throat.

"Why do you care so much? You don't even know me, no one does. If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? If someone lives a life and no one knows them, I mean- really knows them, are they really even alive, do they really exist? It's the same concept. And the answer to both questions is the same, it doesn't matter. Because no one's around to care either way." My voice hiccupped and wavered as I spoke, my throat burned with apprehension unsure of every word it let escape. I was broken down to my last straw, and he could see that. Anyone looking could see that.

"Then reappear. Come back, let people see you, face the world head on and conquer it." His hand inched towards me on the bars, if I was paying attention I would have seen his desire to hold me, but his reluctance to push the silent boundaries between us held him in place.

"I don't know if I want to. People have already decided what and who I am to them, I don't think I could ever be anything else, so what's the point in trying?" My gusto had dissipated, though tears continued their way down my face, a numbing pain washed over me, the running of the bulls was over, and I was left standing in its chaotic remains. Hurt and unsure of where to go.

There was so much left behind, so much more pain that wanted to cry out, but it felt like it missed its chance. Left with no more surety it'd go back to festering under a composed surface, begging to explode, like dead calm waters with raging currents below.

His arms shot around me unexpectedly, pulling me into him, his essence. I was tight against his chest, his body like a shield around me. Feeling his warmth completely consume me broke me. My silent sobs regained the courage to cry out in the comfort of his arms. To scream and release all the pain torturing my mind.

"I can't do this anymore! I don't want to! Please don't make me keep walking through life like a ghost, like I'm less than half a person! Please don't make me keep living. To keep fighting a battle everyone's already decided I've lost." My hands gripped tightly to his vest, my shoulders slacked as I ugly cried my sobs of anguish and begging for release into the chest of a kid I barely knew.

Knowing that his chest would muffle and suppress the sounds of my screaming cries gave me the courage to give them a voice, so that they too could dissipate.

It was pathetic, but I wouldn't let myself think like that right now. I was too preoccupied with trying to get every ounce of comfort that I could from the boy holding me in his arms like I belonged there.

It didn't start all at once, but as he listened to my unceasing bawls he too began to shake, I could feel his tears as they rolled down his face and onto mine.

"Do you really think it's easy for me? Easy to put myself out there, to make sure the world sees me? Because it's not, everyday I hate myself for the weird things I do, the things I say, the fronts I put up. But then, then I remember the people I'm making smile, making laugh, I remember the few friends I'm fighting to keep, to show that they too can live how they want. That despite where I've come from, and how people view me and the nasty things they think and say about me, I can live the way I want. I don't have to prove them wrong, or show them that I can, it's not about them. I'm doing what I'm doing to prove to myself that I can. I get to choose who I get to be, so I choose to be me." With each of his words his hold grew tighter around me, needing my comfort as much as I needed his.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for the way people treat you. I'm sorry you have to fight to be you. But I can't fight like you, I'm not strong like you are, I waver, and I fall. I don't have the courage to stand like you do." My hold on his back loosened, the fabric of his vest in my hands falling free, my crying slowing as I rested my head on to his shoulder as I spoke.

"I know, I'm sorry." There was sincerity in his voice as he whispered softly in my ear, he wasn't what anyone has ever thought he was. He was the kindest, most caring boy I'd ever met. "But you don't have to stand alone anymore, I'm here. Whenever you need me- I'm here." Those were the last words spoken aloud that night.

We'd reached a deeper understanding of each other, and we felt a strange connection forming between us, like when a stalagmite and stalactite grow together, two people from different walks of a similar life were forming a mutual connection to the other.

We didn't leave each other that night, we just cried there silently together for what felt like hours, just letting everything out, letting it go. When there were no more tears left to cry we stayed in each other's embrace, unwilling to move.

Though I still knew next to nothing about him, I knew he had very quickly found a place at the top of my list of people I could trust. It was him, and only him that I had allowed to see me, and to see into me.

March 21

My feet walked down the same school halls as they always did, I took the same route, my eyes looked where they always had, I saw the same legs pass by as I always did. But something felt different inside me as I walked to my first hour. I felt a little lighter, like my lungs weren't so stiff.

My mind held a quieter hum than it had for a long time, the sounds of squeaking shoes or shrill laughter sounded a bit farther, the halls didn't ring in my ears like they typically did. My shirt felt loose and comfortable under my backpack, and for once I felt a semblance of what it feels like to be alright.

Then, a tap on the shoulder, something that had never happened. No one had ever tried to stop me before.

Slowly stopping I turned around, lifting my eyes from the floor to view who had stopped me. And all at once my lungs constricted, my mind was screaming, the halls echoed and rang through my skull, shaking my thoughts and making me feel dizzy, my clothes leached themselves uncomfortably to my skin, and I could feel each book in my backpack pressing against each vertebra in my spine.

"Morning." Eddie greeted a small smile on his face.

"Oh- hey. Um, morning." I couldn't look him in the eyes, opting to glance everywhere around his silhouette, his hair, his neck, which upon closer inspection held a chain, but I couldn't see what his necklace was. My mouth felt dry, and it was uncomfortably hard to swallow.

"Headed to class? Mind if I walk with you?" My brain fog was increasing with my heart rate, I was afraid I might spontaneously combust, or pass out. Panic and fear was all I could feel, my limbs were cold, as if drained of all blood, and they felt numb. I could feel everyone looking at me, their eyes burned my skin. They knew. They all knew.

"Bathroom. Uh, I'm headed to the bathroom first." This wasn't ever supposed to happen, I was never meant to be seen in the light. Not where everyone was. Not where everyone could see me too. Like vultures they'd take any scrap of personal business and tear it apart over and over again for stupid gossip. I couldn't let them see I was a person too, I couldn't give them any more reason to tear me apart. I couldn't be seen.

"Oh, okay. Want me to wait for you?" Had Eddie told anyone about our almost daily shared nights on the climbing dome? Had he shared my vulnerability with the vultures? Were they circling above me waiting for the moment I broke composure to swoop down on me?

"That's alright, I don't want you to be late. And it'll probably be a while." I wouldn't do it, I won't show any semblance of vulnerability here. Not in the light. Not where I can be seen. Not without my cover of darkness.

"Okay, well I'll see you around then?" I grabbed tightly to my backpack straps, my sweaty palms wringing them in my hands. I felt unbearably hot, but ice cold at the same time, the hallways never stopped spinning. Eddie had a fuzzy outline around him, with each deep breath he'd become slightly clearer. But it was unbelievably hard to breathe, it felt like my hands were holding tightly to and squeezing my lungs rather than my backpack straps.

"Sure." With a small wave and smile Eddie made his way past me and to class, leaving me behind.

Ducking into the bathroom I rushed into one of the stalls, leaning against the wall and breathing ragged short breaths, I could no longer fill my lungs with deep breaths, I was gasping for air. I never thought of the situation where he'd seek me out at school, where he'd try and talk to me normally. Like the only conversations we'd have weren't late at night in the cold air of the trailer court, crying about this or that in the same spot.

Unable to stand from the dizziness overwhelming me, I slid myself down the wall of the stall and onto the floor.

Hot tears threatened to spill over, they clouded my vision and I couldn't think straight. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not here, not like this. Not in the daylight. Not where people could see me. He wasn't supposed to be there when other people were around.

He made me feel safe, he made me feel vulnerable. And I couldn't be vulnerable in front of people. I couldn't let them see me, out of fear of what they might see. What they might say. What they might do.

I was scared. And I couldn't breathe.

Shaking involuntarily, my hands and feet felt ice cold, I was sure at this point there was no blood left in them anymore, but my heart was racing fast enough it wouldn't make sense for it not to reach them. The sound of my heart pounding in my ears only made me dizzier.

The stall was spinning faster and faster. Memories of being a little girl and being pushed and spun around on a tire swing flashed into my mind, it was a warm summer day in 1973, I was wearing my favorite play dress, it was yellow with white polka dots, the carefree laughter that bubbled out of me as I went round and round, the happiness I felt in that memory of the world spinning helped ground me, and I was able to take a breath, it was a gasping breath, but I could breathe again. It was fun spinning around as a kid.

Slowly one breath became two, then three, four, five, and my breathing had calmed. The stall had stopped spinning, and I was left with a pit of fear in my stomach. I couldn't see Eddie in the daylight, I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready. I couldn't do it.

Avoiding him in the halls could be easy enough, but we shared some classes. I didn't know what to do. I could skip first hour today, but I'll have to go to my other classes. So I'll have to see him again. What if he tries to talk to me? Or if he speaks too loudly to me and others start listening in? What if he starts talking about our crying spot?

I felt sick to my stomach.

What if people found out about me? How much of a freak and loser I am, how I deserve to be in pain. How much I deserve to feel the way I do. The things I've said, the things I've done. The people I've hurt.

Everyone is going to know because I made the stupid mistake of allowing someone into my life. If he hasn't already he's going to tell everyone.

Slowly picking myself up off the floor I gathered my things, putting my Walkman on and hitting play on whatever tape I had in. I wasn't ready to face the world yet, I wasn't ready for the voices, the hushed whispers of conversations to follow me as I walked down the hall, saying things I already knew, but that I fought so hard to keep secret.

First hour was over by the time I left the bathroom, the halls were packed, each step I took was filled with agony. It was over. It was all over.

Sitting down in second hour I didn't remove my headphones until the teacher slapped his hands down onto my desk, startling me. I didn't listen much to his lecture even without my Walkman. Just looked across the class and out the window, the sky was gray today, cloudy and gray. It'll probably rain in the next few weeks. I couldn't go out to the dome if it was raining, it was just too cold for me. But after today I probably couldn't go out to the dome again anyway.

At the sound of the bell I put my Walkman back on, gathered my things and entered back into the hallways to get to my next class. I had lost another decent thing in my life, maybe I was just meant to be miserable. I think the world was trying to push me over the edge, correct itself for the mistake of allowing me here in the first place.

I was definitely off my game today, I had bumped into several people and run into walls twice. Daring a glance up to see where I was after unexpectedly hitting another wall, down the hallway my eyes met dark brown ones, Eddie. He smiled and waved but kept walking. The sight of him made my heart race, and I decided there could be no more daring actions, even just to find my way down the hallways.

The entirety of my next class was spent panicking about what I'd do when I had to share a class with Eddie. Would he try to talk to me again? Or maybe just talk to someone else in the room about me to get revenge on me for blowing him off this morning.

Lunch was spent the same.

Sitting in my first class with Eddie I anxiously watched the floor at the door, waiting for his shoes to walk in, waiting for the shoes that would pronounce me dead. Even after the bell rang I didn't stop waiting for him the entirety of class, incase he was just running late, or figuring out the best way to barge into the room to capture everyone's attention so he could give a presentation on why I am the worst person to ever exist, and why I'm a freak everyone is justified in hating. But he never showed.

It was only in my last class that I saw him again.

As he came into the classroom he made eye contact with me, he didn't smile or wave, just looked down to the floor and made his way to walk down my aisle, stopping briefly at my desk he tapped his pointer and middle finger on the edge twice, still not looking at me, then he opened his palm, dropping a note onto my desk.

I couldn't help but just stare at it for several minutes, unsure of what to do. But eventually I picked it up, slowly unfolding it, inside it was two words, two simple words. But those two words hurt me so deeply.

I understand

That was it, that's all he wrote. Taking a deep breath to suppress the overwhelming heartache I felt I looked up, trying to stop the tears that had quickly formed in my eyes from spilling over, blinking them away I couldn't help but turn to glance at Eddie. But he wasn't looking at me, he had his head down on his desk, as if asleep. But his hand, somewhat covered in his long hair, made a discreet thumbs up.

I was the one who now understood, he wasn't going to tell anyone, he wasn't in this to hurt me. I felt awful for misjudging him, for spending the entire day thinking of ways he'd ruin everything decent I had left. Just a few nights prior I was balling in his arms, and I felt safe there, now I understood I'd always be safe there. We both understood something deeper about the other now. And there was acceptance in that understanding. Something almost completely foreign to me.

He understood I couldn't handle more than our nightly interactions, and I understood he was alright with that.

April 6

The rain poured down onto me, soaking me to the bone, it was cold and each chilled droplet felt like a demented embrace. It was all surrounding, all consuming. It worked to numb my pains, but it also made them burn with cold fire. In many ways the cold rain felt like home. Felt like a peaceful hell.

The tears that continued to flow down my red hot cheeks burned and stung my face, the salt mixing with the rain water felt agonizing on my busted black eye, courtesy of my father. My eyes were swollen and puffy from the seemingly never ending streams of tears, they clouded my vision making everything around me blurred and bleary. My hair was soaked and messy, it clung to my face, and draped around me like a curtain, doing it's best to hide me, to shield me from the world around me.

I just wanted to disappear, or better yet, to have never existed at all. Everything would have been better that way, maybe my dad would be a nicer man and maybe my mom would have wanted to stick around. Maybe they could have had a good happy long life together, if only they had never had me. I was a mistake, unwanted. And I knew that. I was a mistake whose mere existence ruined everything for everyone around me. So yeah- I think things would be better if I wasn't around.

Maybe if I wasn't around I could stop hurting people so much, everything I touched broke, everything I tried to fix turned to dust in my hands, every fire I tried to extinguish would burn hotter, would burn me. I made everything worse, even when I tried to make things better.

They say you get what you give, so I know I deserved this. For the problems I've caused. For the problems I still cause. Maybe I'm just the problem, everyone certainly seems to think so. I deserve the pain I feel, and more.

I deserved this. The words repeated in my mind, over and over again. Chanting repeatedly until my cries turned to sobs. My nails dug into my arms as I held myself, softly rocking back and forth on the thin bars.

It was my fault. Everything wrong in my life was my doing, I knew that. I didn't need to keep being told, I knew.

Sinking off the bars I sat on the muddy ground, gasping for air between my silent sobs. I knew I couldn't keep doing this, nor did I want to. But there was no solutions, there was no fixing the problem. There was no way I could make my father love me.

He'd hate me till the day he died, not even my death would earn me his sympathies, earn me his love. It'd make no difference to him whether I lived or died, sometimes he wished I would, in fact he often screamed that wish of his in my face.

"What the hell are you doing out here in this weather?" Eddie came running out to me from his trailer, his leather jacket lifted over his head to protect himself from the downpour. "It's freezing, you're going to catch a cold."

When he got to my side he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of me clutching onto myself for dear life, still sobbing and hyperventilating, there was snot running down my nose and I looked worse than he'd ever seen me before. I couldn't look at the painful expression he had on his face, and I couldn't let him see the bruise on mine.

Gently he placed his leather jacket over my head, stopping the rain from hitting me anymore, as he squatted down to my level. "How long have you been out here?"

"I-I-I-I-" I tried to answer, saying I didn't know, but I couldn't get it out between my hyperventilating breaths, he stopped me from trying to speak anymore. I knew it was probably hard for him to see me like this.

"I need you to take a deep breath for me, ok? Breathe with me." He took me into his embrace, holding me close to his chest, but not tightly. "Can you feel the way I breathe, in-" He took a deep breath, waiting for me to attempt the same, accepting any breath deeper than I was taking before. "And out." He exhaled, once again waiting for me to follow. He repeated this until I was breathing with only a hiccup here and there.

"Now let's get you off the ground." He grabbed me by the arms slowly pulling and lifting me back onto the metal bars.

"You're getting s-soaked." My voice was weak, and still really shaky, I tried to hand him back his leather jacket, to cover him. But he refused, readjusting it over my head to keep me warm and out of the rain.

"It's alright, I'll dry. I'm more worried about you getting sick." His hair was drenched, the ends had a steady drip off of them, they dripped down his neck, over the silver chain and onto his black band t-shirt, like me he didn't have any dry spots left. "What are you doing out here in this weather? What happened to bring you out here? Don't you know you could catch your death?" His voice was serious, it held no anger, just concern.

"My dad." Tears continued to flow like a river from my eyes, the realization I had answered him made me suddenly panic, recoil. I hadn't meant too- It just slipped out while my brain was lagging behind.

"Does he hurt you?" His question put me on the defensive, I didn't expect him to ask me that question. I brought my legs back up onto the small bar hugging them tight to my chest. I couldn't answer the question- I couldn't let him see every dark secret I've tried for so long to hide. I couldn't expose my dad without exposing myself for the creatin I am. The parasite. I couldn't let Eddie know what I was.

I had carefully avoided any mention of my father countless times when we'd meet out here, I couldn't tell him now. I didn't want him to know, I didn't want him to know I deserved this. That it was my fault, that I was not blameless.

Shaking my head I lied to Eddie, pulling his jacket further over my head and turning away from him, I hid. I couldn't look at him after trying to deceive him to save myself. Eddie had become the one person I never wanted to lie to, or hide from, but with this one thing it was different. I was ashamed of this thing.

His hand came to my shoulder underneath the leather jacket, despite being in the cold rain with no protection, his hand was still warmer than I was. The gesture of his touch made me turn towards him, locking eyes. I peered deeply into the softness of his gaze, falling into the familiar deep brown pools of his eyes, searching the depths of his soul, I felt alright with drowning in them.

His eyes searched mine too, but eventually the inevitable came as his eyes began wandering my face, stopping at the dark bruise on my cheekbone. He almost reached out to touch it but stopped when I turned my face away. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

He knew now, I let him see despite my best efforts. Something about Eddie made me want to share everything with him, to give every part of myself to him, even if I feared the outcome. Feared him knowing me, truly knowing me. But now that he knew, I was even more petrified that my dad would somehow find out that I was out here. That it would somehow get back to him that I told someone, and that he would confront me about it. That he would hurt me, again.

"My dad hit me too when I was a boy, he was a real piece of work, taught me things no kid should know. He's in prison now, has been for a long time, that's why I live with my uncle. I'm not saying I know what you're going through, but I know the kind of pain you feel when someone whose role is to protect you, is the one causing you pain, is the one tearing you down and making your life hell."

"I'm sorry Eddie." A sob escaped me as I spoke. I couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting him, the sweetest boy I'd ever met. How could someone do that to someone so beautiful, someone who's very soul radiated off of him?

"I know. But that's not why I shared my story, I shared my story because it's not your fault. It's not your fault that your dad hurts you, It's not. I wish someone would have told me that sooner, so I'm telling you. It's not your fault. You're not to blame. A dad is supposed to protect you, not hurt you. It's not your fault." A part of me always knew that, but at the same time I'd worked through it so many times, deciphering how in every possible way it was still me who was to blame.

Turning away from Eddie my mind got back to work showing me every way it was still my fault. "Then who's fault is it? Who is responsible for this? It wasn't your fault Eddie. But it is mine-" Grabbing me by my shoulders Eddie turned me to look at him, shaking me back and forth in his hands.

"Look at me. I wouldn't lie to you, I am not trying to deceive you, I am trying to help you. So, listen to me. Stop reinforcing in your head that every bad thing in your life is your fault, it's just not. Yeah, some of it might have been indirectly- or hell even directly caused by you, but it's simply not all on you. Things aren't black and white. But I know you, and I know that there is no way, no matter the part you may or may not have played in all of this, that you deserve what he's doing to you. No one does. He's an ass, he has his agency, which he chooses to hurt you with. That's his fault, not yours. It's his. He's the failure, not you. He's the one who should be hurting, crying, suffering. Not you." He was serious about this, he wouldn't let me go until he knew I understood.

I avoided his eyes, I no longer wanted to be here, I didn't want Eddie pushing this further. I checked out mentally, letting my eyes wander over parts of him I hadn't inspected before, but soon my eyes fell back on the silver chain around his neck. "What's your necklace?" He stopped, dumbfounded for just a second before his eyes and grip softened.

"My necklace?" He gently released me and pulled at the chain around his neck, pulling it out from under his shirt to show me. "It's a guitar pick."

"Who taught you how to play?" I asked, gently running my finger over the pick in his hand, it was a pretty red one, the dark and rain droplets falling on it made it hard to figure out the smoky pattern on it. But the pattern wasn't what fascinated me. The person it belonged to was.

"I did. But Wayne got me my first guitar when he learned I had a passion for music. I bought the one I mostly use now, but I still have the one he got me, and I use that one when I want to show him a song I wrote, or a new one I've learned. He got me my first guitar, but I had to choose to learn to use it." Something suddenly clicked for Eddie, he knew he wouldn't get anywhere shaking the truth into me. Healing didn't work like that for everyone. He needed a different approach to reach me.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I can tell you all night that it's not your fault. Like Wayne did for me, but you have to choose to believe it, to learn it for yourself. I can't make you do that, even if I wish I could. You have to determine for yourself that you're not playing the victim, you are the victim." He wasn't sure if his words made sense to me. But they did, they struck into me like an arrow.

I had decided long ago that I was the problem, because it was a lot easier than trying to place the blame on someone who would never admit their part in being the problem.

"Will you tell me more about your guitar?" A few tears rolled from my eyes, feeling like they'd been opened for the very first time. Seeing someone actually standing on my side, rather than against me.

"Sure, I guess I can do that. It was pretty shortly after I came to live with Wayne, I started exploring myself, and who I wanted to be, I found metal for the first time living with Wayne, and some friends who liked it too. He'd let me play it in the house, watch me air guitar all over. He asked if I wanted to be a rockstar, if I wanted to actually play the guitar. I said yes, of course, then a few months later, Wayne came home with an electric guitar. He couldn't get me to put it down, even after my fingers started to bleed. A few days later he went back to the music store to get me some tab books, so I could actually learn to play. I picked it up pretty quick." Eddie smiled softly retelling the story, it was clearly a memory he held fond in his mind.

"And?" I asked, leaning in, genuinely curious and excited. Suddenly the rain felt a little less cold falling down onto us, and the space between us was slowly starting to vanish, as we began sliding closer and closer, bit by bit. Until we were sitting shoulder to shoulder. I moved the leather jacket to cover both of our heads, which made the cold air feel almost warm.

"I started my band with my friends, Corroded Coffin was what we settled on. We were in our middle school talent show, we didn't win, not by a long shot. We kind of sucked actually, messed up a lot. But it was definitely a performance no one in that room would ever forget, for better or worse. We're better now though, so it's alright our debut sucked. Wayne was really proud of us, and took about a million photos. So if you're ever curious about what I look like with a buzzcut I can show you. I started growing out my hair after that." He played absentmindedly with the ends of his soaked long hair. It was cute.

"Did your desire to grow out your hair come from the talent show?" It was a fair inquiry, maybe someone had made fun of his hair after the show. So he grew it out. But that was just speculation.

"No, I wouldn't say so. I wanted to have the metal hair, thought I'd look cool. Which I totally do by the way. But also, my dad had a buzzcut, and I didn't want to be anything like him." Seeing the pain that lingered in his eyes from recalling his dad hurt. Even if I somehow got out from under my dad, ways he's hurt me would always follow me. They'd always follow me. Like a landmine, waiting for the smallest thing to step on them, to trigger them, and I'd blow up. Be brought right back to the fear and mindset I live in.

Leaning in, I hugged Eddie. "I don't want to go back inside, I don't want to stay there- I'm scared." My voice was quiet, almost desperate as I spoke, my hands grabbing onto the back of his drenched shirt like a lifeline.

"You need some rest, you can't sleep out here on these bars in the rain, you need your bed. It'll be ok, if anything happens you can tell me. You can come to my trailer and I'll protect you, if you're with me he can't touch you." He soothed me, holding onto me just as tightly as I held onto him. "It'll be ok."

Though I would do anything to not admit he was right, I couldn't stay out here forever, I couldn't make Eddie stay out here in this weather either. We both had school in the morning and I really didn't want Eddie to get sick.

"Will you walk me back?" I asked pulling away from him to look him in the eyes.

"Yeah, I can do that." Eddie helped me climb off the bars and onto the muddy ground, he moved his jacket to only cover me, knowing we couldn't both walk under it logistically. He was close behind me, but with every step towards my trailer the more I wanted to just go back to the bars, back to the warmth of Eddie's arms.

I led him to the back of my trailer where my window I used to climb in and out was. Turning back to Eddie I fiddled with my fingers stalling. "There's uh, there's nothing to worry about, 'kay?" I nodded my head at his words, removing  his leather jacket to hand it back to him.

"Thank you. For everything." He accepted his jacket back, nodding he looked to the ground, letting his hair fall in front of his face almost shyly.

"Anything for you." With that I took one more deep breath before climbing through my window.

Popping my head back out I spoke to him. "Goodnight Eddie."

"Goodnight." With a final small wave he turned away to walk back to his trailer.

I shut my window and got changed before getting into bed, completely physically and emotionally drained. I couldn't stop thinking about what happened. Out of all the people in the world Eddie Munson would be the one to find me. That truthfully, he was the only one who could have.

April 25

Staring off into the tree line I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. But all my thoughts lingered, one after another saying something worse than the last. But I knew now, they probably weren't right, at least not all of them. It was trying to determine what dark thoughts I'd entertain and which ones I wouldn't. That was what was hard.

I didn't really want to think at all anymore. I just wanted silence in my head.

I wasn't crying this night, I just needed to get out of my trailer. Away from a possible fight.

I didn't really feel like I could cry, like everything was just blocked and suppressed to a point where nothing could reach the surface to be fully felt and processed. There was so much running through my head it felt like a bad case of whiplash.

"What are you thinking about?" Eddie came out and sat on the bars beside me, looking at the same tree line I did.

"Just- a lot." I answered, turning to look at him. I noticed lately when I looked at him he looked somewhat ethereal, like he wasn't from this world. Star light tended to reflect in his eyes and turn them to galaxies of endless possibilities. I often imagined that he was meant to be a brave warrior somewhere in Fantasia rather than here, being ostracized for being nonconforming.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" Eddie asked, turning to look at me. The question threw me off, not once in the few months we had been meeting had he asked if I wanted to go somewhere.

"Like- where?" I asked curiously, looking around us for somewhere he might want to go.

"For a drive, we can take my van." He answered standing up from the bars, waiting for me to follow suit.

"Where would we go?" I stood from the bars, fiddling with my fingers. I shifted my weight back and forth between my legs, still skeptical of the idea, but willing to follow Eddie.

"Anywhere- everywhere, if you so desire. But I think we should go somewhere." He smiled at me, slowly taking my hand in his, he began leading me towards his van. "Besides, drives always help me to clear my head, which I think could be good for you."

Did friends hold each other's hands? When I was little my girl friends did. But I've never had a guy friend before, did they hold hands? 

When we got to his van he opened the door for me before going around to get in the driver seat.

It wasn't long before we were on the road leaving the trailer court and climbing dome behind.

The silence was awkward at the start, we had never done anything together besides cry, I mean we'd have bits of normal conversation here and there, and sometimes Eddie would goof off on the bars and around the climbing dome trying to make me laugh. But it was always at the climbing dome. Was our bond still valid away from the place we bonded?

What would we even talk about if we weren't at the climbing dome? Conversation always seemed to flow so easily there, and silence felt peaceful and welcome. Was it peaceful in the van too?

Eddie said a drive would help clear my head, but now I just had more to think about. Although it was getting my mind off of what I didn't want to think about anymore, so it was kind of working, in that regard at least. 

"Want to listen to some music?" Eddie asked, breaking the thick silence between us.

"Um, sure." I didn't get to listen to a lot of music, I couldn't afford a lot of tapes for my Walkman, and I took the bus to school so I couldn't listen to anything new on the radio on the way. I only got to listen to the radio when my dad wasn't home, which wasn't often enough, otherwise it was any of the five tapes I did have, which got pretty tiring after a while.

Eddie fiddled with a few tapes he had laying in a box between the captain seats, looking for a certain tape, only being able to look down occasionally for it because he was driving. Eventually, he seemed to have found what he was looking for because he slid a tape into his car radio. "Let me know if you don't like it and I'll change it."

"Alright." The tape started with drums, being followed by guitar. It wasn't like anything I'd ever heard before, before long I found myself subconsciously tapping my foot along to the music. Eddie noticed my tapping and smiled softly to himself.

"Like it?" Eddie slightly leaned in towards me to ask the question without taking his eyes off the winding back road.

"Yeah, what is it?" I asked, turning to him, I really had never heard anything like it. But it was undeniably good, a lot more about Eddie made sense to me now that I had a sense of what he listened to.

"It's metal, the album is Peace of Mind, it's by Iron Maiden. I thought the title of the album was fitting for our drive. You really like it?" Eddie couldn't help himself from glancing away from the road to look at the genuine smile on my face, it was a rare sight. But he'd do just about anything to see it more.

He saw a spark in my eyes, a spark of life and living. I was here with him and he knew that. I was discovering something that he enjoyed for the first time ever and I had that same spark in my eyes that he did the first time he heard metal.

"Yeah, totally. It's really good actually." I turned to look at him, he was watching the road now, but he had something so special to him. The music was a piece of Eddie, and I loved every piece of Eddie, and now in a sense it was a piece of me too. This was hopefully a piece we could share for a long time.

"Alright." Eddie's smile was enormous as he turned up the volume dial, he was ecstatic that I liked it. Being honest he hadn't expected me to. Not because he didn't think I was the type, he was just used to rejection and dismissal. People not taking his music seriously, or over radicalizing it and calling it devil music.

After a while the volume had found its way to a quiet background noise, and all the thoughts had found their way through the cracks of my defenses and were back to playing on loop. Eddie seemed to have a sixth sense for when my mind was filled with turbulence.

"What are you thinking about?" The car jostled as he turned onto a dirt road, the only thing showing the way was his warm yellow headlights.

"I don't think I'm a person worthy of good things happening to me, I'm not someone people want to talk to, no one wants to be around me. If in need of help or support I don't think anyone would come, I'm not someone people show up for. I never have been. And even if I was, I have no friends, no one who cares about me. No one who cares if I live or die." Turning my body more towards the window I held myself in my arms, I could feel the lump forming in my throat with the sting of a red hot coal.

"I care, and I'd show up. I'd come running if you only asked me to, I'll come running to you even if you don't ask me. Because you are a person deserving of good things, you deserve good things probably more than anyone else actually. I know you don't see it but you are actually super cool." Eddie took his right hand off the wheel to place it on my shoulder, offering the comfort he could as he drove.

"How do you know? All we ever talk about is our problems, you only ever hear me complain and whine about my life." Digging into my arms I tried to blink the tears from my eyes, but nothing could have stopped them from falling.

"Have you ever considered that I like hearing you talk to me about your problems? That I like being here for you? That I see every night we're together as more than just one of us complaining about our lives, and that maybe, just maybe, I enjoy being around you. Because despite everything you've ever been told, you are not a hard person to love." Eddie stopped the car and parked before he turned to look at me. His face was hard to make out in the dark, but I think he was crying.

"But why?" I whimpered out, my lip quivering and my chin scrunched. I was no longer capable of feeling like people genuinely liked me anymore, that anyone was capable of loving one who was as low as dirt.

"Come with me." Eddie opened his door and hopped out. He then came around and opened my door, he helped me out and began walking. I glanced around my dark unfamiliar surroundings before following a step behind him, I had no idea where we were. But the stars seemed brighter in this part of Hawkins, they seemed like the stars you could wish and dream on and it'd come true, they seemed more in reach than the ones in the trailer court.

I didn't quite dare to walk even with Eddie, I didn't deserve to be by his side. So I followed behind him, silent as a shadow, unable to fully become one, but wanting so desperately to. Wanting so desperately to reach out and be with him. "Where are we?"

Being behind him I could study him, the curvature of his shoulders and his arms, the way his jean vest and leather jacket fell down his back and wrapped around his waist, his shoulder blades in motion, the way he moved his legs when he walked. And the way his curls slightly bounced. I would give anything to be able to follow him wherever he may go.

"We're at Lovers Lake, but don't worry- I didn't come here with any ideas. I just like how the air feels here, and I like to skip rocks on the water." Looking back to me he waited for me to catch up, giving me a nod of permission to walk beside him.

Without another thought or doubt I fell in step with Eddie. We were coming into a clearing, where just in the distance there was a lake, the stars shimmered on the moving water, it looked like a pool of stars. So peaceful and tranquil that I could dive right in and let myself drown, take the water into my lungs and become one with the constellations.

"I've never skipped rocks before." I almost couldn't take my eyes off of the water, I had never seen any body of water look like this. So reflective of the night sky, yet so fluid. The sound of the small lake waves coming to the shore flooded into my ears, along with the rustling of trees from the breeze and the occasional nocturnal animal letting out a quiet sound. My mind was at peace.

"That's ok, I'll have to teach you sometime." He led me to the edge of the water, and we walked along the lakeside. Occasionally Eddie would stop, pick up a rock and skid it on the lake surface before starting to walk again. "To answer your question from earlier in the car, I guess it's because you let me in. You accepted my presence, and you were still you, you don't treat me like I'm a freak. You're someone I can talk to openly and freely, you're easy to talk to."

"You're really easy to talk to too, things feel a little more alright when I'm around you. I gave up on people a long time ago, I stopped talking, I stopped being around. I stopped because all the words I ever spoke just made things worse, added fuel to the burning infernos of youthful cruelty. Not to mention my dad." The air was cold and crisp, but felt safe. It was a perfect spring night.

"I know what it feels like to be burned by those infernos too." At his words I turned from the lake to look at the ground I was walking on, several thoughts running through my head at once.

"People really only care what they can get from you don't they? If you're not handing out they'll take what they want and leave, they'll leave and make sure no one else will ever come around. But, then you did. Despite all odds- you did." Looking into his eyes made my heart ache, they were so special and beautiful. I wanted to be able to see every possibility of my future in his deep brown button eyes. Because in every possibility of my future I wanted him to be there.

Warmth blossomed in my hand, and it took me a moment to realize that it was Eddie taking my hand in his. Gently he interlocked our fingers, his eyes never leaving mine. No words were spoken, but a thousand were understood.

"Your hands are cold." Eddie whispered, not daring to speak louder in fear of ruining the moment and making me retreat my hand from his.

"They're always cold." I whispered back, giving his hand a daring squeeze. The whole ordeal made my heart pound with achiness, longing for an eternity of something I knew would be fleeting.

When we were ready we continued our walk alongside the lake, still holding onto each other's hand. His warmth seemed so foreign to me, it was the warmth of care, something I didn't feel often.

"I've never had much luck with friends, so when you leave, do it fast. Make sure when that day comes I'll have something good of you to hold onto. Because if I could, I would always like to hold onto you." My voice was strained, the ache in my heart only grew into tightness in my chest. I knew I couldn't have Eddie forever, and one day it would be time to say goodbye. And that on that day it would feel worse than dying.

"I'm not going anywhere." He turned to look me in the eye, there was no trace of deceit in his words, but experience made me distrust them.

"I've heard those words before, but I still ended up alone." He was like a wild bird, soaring freely in the blue sky. It would be too cruel for me to ask him to join me in my gray cage. A cage I couldn't get out of.  "I know you'll leave me one day, people can only handle me for so long before becoming tired of me."

"I'm not going anywhere." He grabbed me by my shoulders, my knees were becoming weak from just how much my heart ached, so he had to help hold me up.

"The people who have said those words are the very same people who have hurt me the most, who have left me with nothing but shattered pieces of myself to try and pick up. No one wants to even talk to me because of them. People treat me like a disease because of them. And maybe they're right, I am a disease. I kill every good thing I touch. I poison others happiness with my very existence." There was a burning in my throat that was increasing, tears threatened to spill over and fall down my face.

"You're not a disease. You aren't poisoning anyone's happiness either. You're just living as a human being, just as others are. So if they have a problem with you it's really just their problem. Now will you please tell me what's really the problem on your mind? I know there's more to this than you're letting on." He took my face into his hands, and something inside of me snapped.

Breaking down sobbing I fell to the ground, slipping through his hands, I clutched my hurting heart. Gravel dug into and bruised my knees, but I couldn't even feel it. "I just have this awful feeling in my chest that I'm going to lose you. Please Eddie, don't go where I can't follow. Don't leave me behind."

"I won't. I promise I won't." Crouching down to me on the ground he lifted my face to look at him, his thumb gently wiping away the tears on my cheeks. "If you want me gone you'll have to beat me until I leave, which minimally will take exactly seven broken bones, ribs don't count." The ridiculous thought of me ever trying to hurt him helped lighten the mood and I let out a small chuckle which made him smile.

"Promises can be broken." His heart broke as he searched my eyes, seeing all my pain bubbling up to the surface. He hated seeing me in pain, because he knew there was really only so much he could do to help me. He couldn't take away my pain, he couldn't take away my problems. All he could do is try to help ease the pain and make sure I wasn't alone anymore.

Randomly a part of one of his campaigns came to mind, two of the players vowing something, something they'd never break because it connected them together. "Then let's do a blood pact. Give me your hand." Holding his hand out he waited for me to give him my own, unsurely I placed my hand on top of his. 

"That sounds a bit extreme." His hand was warm holding mine, this was absolutely insane. But I couldn't stop myself from doing whatever Eddie requested. The pain didn't scare me, the blood didn't scare me. Yet I was more nervous than I had been in a long time.

"But it's what I can do to prove to you I will never leave you. Promises mean nothing, and swearing is just foul language." He was really serious about this, I liked seeing him being serious about things, he'd get this certain look in his eyes, and unbeknownst to him his brows would slightly scrunch.

"Maybe the rumors are true, maybe you are in a cult." The time we spent together was rarely light enough for my teasing side to show through, but there were few things Eddie loved more. He got to see snippets of what I looked like when I wasn't thinking about my trauma or anxiety, when I wasn't battling my own mind.

"Haha, very funny. Do you want to do this or not? Because I am serious, I will make a blood pact with you if it means you'll believe me when I say I will never leave you, I won't go where you can't follow. Plus they sound kind of cool, don't you think?" 

"I think you just want an excuse to do one." He shrugged lightly, making me sigh. "Ok. How do we do this?" His eyes lit up and he smiled, I liked seeing his smile, they were always so genuine and heartfelt.

"We have to make an oath or something." Eddie seemed to be deep in thought, thinking of what he wanted to say. He didn't really know how to do one, he only had the one reference from his players, but he knew what he wanted to vow. "I will never hurt you, and I'll be by your side until you don't need me anymore."

"And what if I always need you?" I tilted my head slightly, I hated the thought of a day I no longer needed him, because right now I needed him so desperately. There was a burning fear inside of me that I'd get every time I thought of Eddie leaving me, one that was harder than anything to bear.

"If you always need me, then forever I will be yours." Forever was something I never thought I'd live to see. But something that seemed so inviting when presented by Eddie.

Contemplating this I tried to think of anything I might want to add, but nothing came to mind. "Ok, I vow the same." 

Taking a pocket knife from his pocket he opened it. "Ok, here we go. My blood." He cut his left palm first, letting out a hiss of pain. "Your blood." He drew a cut down my right palm. "Our blood." Taking my hand in his he held them together.

I waited for something big to happen, but that was it. A forever connection between the two of us that no one else could even see. Something eternally binding that was special to only us. "Is that it?"

"Yeah, I guess so." It seemed more dramatic when done in DnD, he had added gusts of wind and a chain of light encircling the connected hands during the point of binding contact. But this was the real world, no special wind blew, no light erupted around them. To Eddie this felt almost more sacred without the special effects. No outside power connected them, it was just simply them.

"I kind of expected flames to erupt from the ground or the earth to shake or something." Blood dripped down from our hands, landing on my thigh and staining the fabric there. 

"That only happens if it's broken." Slowly he released my hand, moving his hand to drip onto the ground rather than on me. 

"Really?" I was very skeptical, but it didn't sound completely impossible to me. 

"No, I don't know. But now we're connected. Until the very last day of forever." There was a softness in his eyes that seeped through into his tone, the sight made my heart ache and my lungs tight.

"Until the last day of forever." I repeated quietly to myself. That sounded so nice to me, but who knew how long forever was? How long would I really have with Eddie before everything came crashing down? Before everything was pulled from my hands. 

"It's getting a little cold, and I should probably bandage your hand. So we should probably start walking back to the van." Eddie stood from the ground and put his uninjured hand out to help me up too, taking it gladly he hoisted me back to my feet.

"Alright." The walk back was really quiet and peaceful, only the wildlife and sound of our footfalls sounded in my ears. No more words needed to be spoken between us, we both just understood.

Getting back to the van Eddie searched through his van for something to use to wrap our hands, the cuts weren't super long or deep, but they were bleeding pretty good and would definitely scar. A reminding mark of our pact that I could carry with me through my life. 

Eventually he found an old bandanna in his glove box and a few napkins from getting take out somewhere. "Here, I'll wrap your hand for you." I watched as he gently wrapped the bandana around my palm and tied it together.

"What about you?" I asked looking up to him from my now wrapped hand.

"I'll use the napkins." He answered, grabbing them from beside him.

"They won't stay in place while you drive, and you can't just bleed all over the wheel." I wasn't sure what to do, I wasn't going to just let Eddie get the short end of the stick when he arguably needed the bandanna more.

"I know but I want to make sure you're taken care of." I wanted to tell him that taking care of him was just as important, but I didn't. I had a different idea.

"May I?" Holding out my hand I waited for him to place his on top, when he did I grabbed the few napkins from his other hand, placing a few over the cut, the crimson color of his blood quickly seeped through the pure white of the paper. I didn't know how to secure it, I hadn't thought that far ahead, and I didn't have anything on me that would work.

My eyes caught the shimmer of his bracelet, it had two snaps, so if I put it on the tighter one maybe it would be small enough to fit around his hand. "Can I use your bracelet?"

"Sure." Unsnapping it from his wrist I wrapped it around his hand, making sure the leather snap part was on his palm rather than the chain part, it seemed more comfortable to me. Putting it on the tighter snap it was still a little loose, so I took the remaining napkins and filled the gap with them. It wasn't great work but it would do until we got back to the trailer court.

"There, that should work for now." I gently released his hand and let him inspect my handiwork, it really wasn't great. I just really hoped it'd stay.

"Thank you." Something in his tone led me to believe he hadn't expected me to care, the thought sounded so ridiculous to me. There was no one I cared about more. No matter how bad the wound, or how he got it, I would try and patch him up, to help him. Whether it was a physical wound or not. Because since I met him he has done the same for me.

"It's no problem, really." I looked away from him, feeling a bit shy suddenly.

Getting into our seats and buckled Eddie started the van and we continued back the way we came down the dirt road, it was a peaceful quiet for a while until Eddie spoke. "Do you want to sit with me at lunch next week?"

"At a table outside?" I asked, turning my head to look at him, unsure of what he meant.

"No, like at the hellfire table. With my friends." He clarified, glancing over to me to gauge my reaction.

"I- don't know about that." I looked down to my hands, playing with the extra fabric coming out of the knot on the bandanna. I still couldn't even talk to Eddie at school, let alone sit with him and his friends at lunch. It seemed like a really daunting request. 

"Come on! It'll be good for you. You'll have fun, I promise." A pit of anxiety formed in my stomach at the thought of so many people looking at me, judging me. 

"What if they don't like me?" My voice was barely above a whisper as I asked the question. Uncertainty and self doubt was flooding my mind and I was genuinely scared.

"The guys? They'd love you, they'd love you so much I might have to beat them off with a stick. Finders keepers and all." He reached over to nudge my shoulder, I let out a dry laugh, but his words really did nothing to soothe my worries. 

I wanted to do this for Eddie, but I just wasn't sure I could. I wrestled with my thoughts for a good long time, weighing everything that could potentially happen. If this didn't go well forever could be over by Tuesday, Eddie could come out of it hating me. Everyone could. Everyone in the whole cafeteria would be looking at me, not just the hellfire table. Everyone.

Taking a deep breath I felt the sting from the cut on my hand more presently. 'Until the very last day of forever' rang through my head and I sighed. Forever would last longer than Tuesday. "Alright. What the hell. Lunch, Monday, at the hellfire table."

"Thank you. I know you don't do well with people, or crowds. But I think this could be the start of something really good for you. Having people you can trust and rely on." The car jostled as we got back onto asphalt heading home.

"I hope so." The rest of the drive back was quiet. It was peaceful in the van too, our bond went beyond the climbing dome. So maybe it'd be able to go anywhere, last anywhere. Even through the cruelties of time. For once I felt as though I might have found something I could hold onto without it being yanked from my hands.

Getting out of the van Eddie began walking me to my back window.

"Oh! One more thing." Running back to his van I waited for him to come back, unsure of what he was doing. Soon he came running back with something in his hand. "Here, you can take this, it's the tape we were listening to. You can listen to it as many times as you'd like, and when you're ready I'll trade you for another tape. If after listening to it more you still like metal I'll make you some copy tapes."

"Thank you Eddie, I don't know what to even say." Tears formed in my eyes at the sentiment and I quickly went to wipe them away, feeling a bit embarrassed over crying over something like this. It's just that I'd never had someone make such a meaningful gesture to me.

"No, don't cry, it's nothing." Eddie frantically grabbed me by my shoulders, unsure of what to do or how to comfort me. When he came up with the idea of lending me the tape he had pictured me turning it away or mocking him, but not crying. He wasn't prepared for crying.

"No, it's everything to me." Taking the tape from his hands I gave him a hug, tears still coming down my face. Eddie wasn't sure how to respond at first, but eventually he hugged back. "Can I one day come listen to your band?"

"Yeah, I think I could work something out so you could do that. We are super popular and booked out super far so I don't know how it'll work out though." Eddie kept one of his arms around my shoulders as he used the other to move around flamboyantly to add to his sarcasm.

"Oh please." I rolled my eyes at his antics, truly I found him quite funny, which he knew from my small chuckle I let out.

"I'm kidding! How about after graduation? Give me some time to prepare a show especially for you." He let his arm fall from my shoulder down to his side and took a small bashful step back.

"Sounds like fun, but I'd really accept anything. You don't have to go all out." A smile crept onto my face as I held the Iron Maiden tape close to my chest, swaying back and forth slightly. I wanted to support Eddie in anything he enjoyed, because since I met him he's done nothing but support me.

"For you I do, you're like super pretty. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of a girl like you." Eddie took a piece of his hair into his hands and played with it, almost hiding behind it.

"You don't need to be sarcastic." I looked down to my feet, digging them into the ground and kicking at a rock. I wasn't pretty, at no time in my life had I been considered pretty by anyone. I didn't have anything special to me or my looks, and I am often reminded of that. 

"I wasn't. You're- You're beautiful! The most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Eddie took a step closer, grabbing one of my shoulders to get me to look at him. His eyes held a fervent spark in them, they tried to tell me he was telling the truth. But I knew I wasn't beautiful.

"Alright Eddie, if you say so. I'll see you Monday, if not sooner." I gave him my best smile and a small wave before I turned away from him, climbing inside through my window. Short goodnights were exchanged before he began his walk to his trailer and I shut my window.

Was it really possible that he could consider me beautiful? I couldn't even fathom the idea of it. I was constantly reminded of my lack of brilliance, that I wasn't good enough for my father, for people to like me. 

Maybe Eddie did think I was beautiful though, maybe he saw something inside me that I couldn't.

April 28

Walking behind Eddie I tried to take deep breaths, we were walking to the hellfire club table for lunch, and I was trying to hide behind Eddie. I was second guessing my readiness to do this. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt incredibly dizzy. 

"Boys, I would like to introduce you to my friend." Eddie stepped to the side revealing me, he held his arm out presenting me to the whole table.

I gave the table a small wave. "Uh- hi..." My mouth felt dry and uncomfortably sticky, like it was filled with cotton. 

I had no time to cope and adjust to all the new eyes staring at me before all the questions started at once.

"Don't we share a class together?"

"Who are you?"

"How do you know Eddie again?"

"Why are you sitting with us if you're not in Hellfire Club?"

My breathing hitched in my throat, I was being bombarded. Taking a small step backwards I glanced at Eddie for help, but he just gave me a smile. "I- uh- I-" This was too much too fast. I couldn't do this. I wasn't ready. 

Clenching my hands together I turned on my heel and ran. 

I didn't stop running until I pushed the door out of the school open, collapsing against the wall. I tried to control my erratic breathing. But it wasn't working. Clutching at my chest I hyperventilated. 

I was foolish to think I could do this. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Banging my head with my hand the words repeated in my mind. Why did I ever think I could do this? Now they all hate me. I ran from Eddie and his friends. He probably hated me now. How could he not? I was so stupid. 

I hardly registered the sound of the door to the school opening until Eddie was down on the ground in front of me, almost frantically he grabbed my hand, stopping it from hitting my head anymore.

"Hey, hey. It's alright- you're alright." Only when he wiped my face did I realize I was crying. 

"N-nothing's alr-ight." I stuttered through my hyperventilating breaths. 

The worried look on Eddie's face broke my heart. Gently he snaked his hand behind my neck, pulling me into him, then he slid his other arm under my knees, picking me up he turned himself around so he was sitting against the wall, then he carefully placed me down on the ground next to him, my legs draped over his lap and his arms now around me. Holding me close to his chest.

"I-I'm sorry. I ru-ruined ev-everything." I dug my face into the crook of his neck, still not being able to get my breathing under control.

"You didn't ruin anything. I'm sorry I pushed you too hard too fast. I shouldn't have done that. I just thought- I thought because you were so alright with me, and comfortable with me, you'd be alright with my friends. But I see now that I really am the exception. I'm sorry." His hands rubbed circles into my back, trying to help calm me down.

Slowly I was able to take hold of my breathing, waiting to talk before I was fully ready. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I should have just pushed through. Tried harder. Now they all hate me."

"No, they don't hate you. They might be a little confused on why you ran away but they don't hate you. They're really nice and cool guys. They'd never let something as small as this turn their judgment against you. I promise. No harm was done." Eddie spoke softly in my ear, as he stroked my head, smoothing out my slightly messy hair.

"They really don't hate me now?" I moved to be face to face with him, looking him in the eyes waiting for his response. If he lied I could tell. 

"No way, they definitely don't hate you now." There was no traces of deceit in his eyes, sighing a breath of relief I fell back against him, my head on his shoulder. 

"What a relief." Eddie couldn't stop himself from letting out a small laugh. "What?" I asked, raising myself back up to look at his face, he had a tender smile and a loving look in his eyes.

"Nothing." He shook his head with a chuckle. 

"No, hey! What?" I pushed him gently against the wall, I wanted him to tell me what I so obviously didn't get. His smile was contagious, and I couldn't stop one from creeping up my own face.

"It's nothing. You're just cute is all." He rested his arms around my waist, his eyes melting as they dived into my own.

"Oh." I turned away from him, heat rising to my face. 

"Do you still want to have lunch together?" A jolt of panic shot through my body and Eddie clarified. "Out here, we don't have to go back inside. I just feel bad leaving you to eat lunch alone, since we planned to have lunch together today."

"But what about your friends?" I asked tilting my head at him.

"I think they can live without me for one day." He matched my head tilt and mirrored me as I moved my head back straight. 

"Thanks Eddie." I moved myself off of him to sit beside him so we could have lunch, there was a certain warmth from him that I missed when I moved away from him.

"Of course, anything for you." He smiled and stood from the ground. "I'll go get our stuff, wait right here."

May 5

"I envy you, you know." Sitting at the very top of the climbing dome I let my legs dangle down, slowly kicking them back and forth. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky was painted with oranges and reds, pinks and purples too, the color danced through the clouds dying them various shades of astonishing beauty.

"How so?" Eddie asked curiously, turning away from the setting sun to look at me.

"You're not afraid to create waves, to make sure everyone knows who you are. Even if they have skewed views of you. You'll be remembered. But I won't, in my fear of being seen I removed myself from the vision of everyone. I removed my existence from the narrative. And now that I've decided to live, really live. I fear it's too late to make a ripple in the water. To be remembered." I looked down to my hands, awkwardly clasping them together.

"No, it's never too late. I'll pull you in, we can make a big splash together. I'll make sure that by the end of the year everyone in this town knows your name, just as they know mine." Eddie reached over and placed his hand over mine.

"I don't know if I want to be remembered for what you're gonna be remembered for." I playfully nudged him, he made a look of fake hurt and offense making me laugh. "I'm kidding! I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm ok with being remembered when people remember you. No matter how they remember you. You weirdo."

"You're weird too!" He defended himself, nudging me back and making me laugh.

"Over the past trimester every few nights we've met out here and I've cried, you've cried with me, and we've talked about so many different things, you've helped me begin again. And you've been patient with me when I needed to take a step back from progress, progress I'm not at a place yet to make. Like the other day when I ran from the lunchroom- sorry again about that by the way. I'm just not there yet, but one day maybe I will be. Maybe one day I'll be able to look people in the eyes as I walk down the halls. Just- not yet." I looked him in the eyes, taking all of him in. He was as beautiful as the sky.

"That's alright. I'll be here for you as you learn to walk, I shouldn't have pushed you when you were just finding some footing, I should be the one to apologize again about lunch." He looked down to his hand on mine, weaving it between mine he interdigitated our fingers. 

"No! Not at all! It was good, I needed it, I need you to push me. Otherwise I'll never take that step, I just need you to gently push me. No shoving." I gave his hand a small squeeze before looking back up to the setting sun. "I want to learn to look at the world, and accept that I'm a part of it, that I have a place in it. That I don't need to disappear completely. That it's alright to see and be seen. Like the way you do."

"I'm really not that special, you give me too much credit. I just live each day, because tomorrow isn't certain." He looked at my face, studying the curve of my nose and the shape of my lips. Despite the beauty of the sky right in front of us, in his eyes I was still the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Are you kidding? Eddie, you've taught me maybe the most valuable lesson anyone could ever learn." I turned to look at him, hardly believing he could say he wasn't that special. Because to me he was the only thing in this world that mattered, he had saved me in ways he could never understand.

"And what's that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, it's not that he didn't believe me. He just didn't know what he could have ever done to impact me enough to be the most valuable thing I could have ever learned. Because to him he learned way more from me than he felt he could ever teach.

"You have to be vulnerable to begin healing, you have to break before you can be put back together, sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. It's heaviest before the weight is lifted off of you." That was just one of many lessons he'd taught me over our time together.

"I taught you that?" He sounded so surprised, I wasn't sure how he didn't realize that through everything he's said to me, every action he's made, that even through his care and sharing his experiences with me that that was the lesson he was teaching. 

Nudging him I shook my head in disbelief. "You sure did, you goof." I smiled at him, a pure and honest smile.

"Who knew I was so wise." He gently leaned his head against my shoulder, watching as the setting sun dipped out of view behind the trees, the sky was still bright and flooded with color,  soon today would be over, and a new day would begin. One that would bring with it the opportunity for progress. As would the next. Because everyday is an opportunity for progress. 

Right now I couldn't see the end of the tunnel, but now because of Eddie I knew there was one. And one day I'd come into the light and realize that despite all the odds, I made it through.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #stranger things #fem reader #stranger things x reader

[venusfalling]

I’m Sorry If I Scared You

summary: You deal with the fallout of going to Madripoor with Bucky.

warnings: Reader has long term injuries from previous battles, talk of injuries, canon typical violence

notes: part 3.3 of Where You Go, I Go. Based on Ep. 3 of TFATWS

      Sam did his best, really, but criminals are a paranoid bunch. It was lucky that someone shot Selby through the window the moment Sam’s (and your own) cover was blown, otherwise you would all have been killed.       When the first shot was fired, Bucky ran to you, taking out the two gunmen near you before you could.       “Let’s go,” he commanded as he grabbed your hand and pulled you forward. Another guard stands in your way, firing off three shots. Bucky holds his metal arm to block the bullets, but they never find their target. The guard stares in confusion as the bullets hang still in the air three inches from Bucky who turns around to look at you. Your face is serious, your eyebrows turned down in concentration. You wave the hand you’ve held up to stop the bullets to the side and the tiny projectiles follow the same path. Then you raise your hand up. This time, it’s the man’s gun that flies upward and is quickly ripped out of his hands. With a wet crack of bone breaking, Bucky knocks out the formerly armed gunman with an easy right hook.       Bucky’s eyes look you up and down for injuries, and god you wish he would stop treating you like you were so fragile you’d break at the slightest effort.       “I told you I could take care of myself,” you say. Internally, you run a quick scan: your chest hurt, but not much, and you were still breathing relatively normal. You figured that as long as you leaned on your powers and not physical capabilities you no longer had, you’d actually make it through this mission alive.       “We gotta go,” Sam says making his way over to you, a gun from one of the guards in his hand. Bucky and Sam, in sync in ways only military men can be, take stock of the situation. Sam clears a path towards the exit with you and Zemo following while Bucky brings up the rear, carefully sweeping the area with the scope of his semi-automatic rifle for any more threats.         The four of you stop at the exit, trying to think through next steps.       “We may have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead,” Zemo says. Before Bucky and Sam can argue, he adds, “If we arm ourselves now, we’ll be shot on sight.”       You make your way out onto the street again, nearly stumbling on the wet asphalt. Bucky steadies you with his arm and you don’t let go. Around you, phones begin to ping, and eyes underneath neon lights follow you wherever you turn.       You can feel in your bones what’s coming. So can the others as the four of you begin to walk faster.       “This is not good,” says Zemo just before the bullets start flying.       Zemo takes off in the opposite direction, but you don’t have a chance to stop him as Bucky pulls you low, then into a sprint. You ignore the way your feet hurt and your lungs burn as you struggle to keep up.       “Come on!” Bucky yells over his shoulder to Sam.       “I can’t run in these heels,” Sam yells back, sprinting to catch up and taking the spot to your right.       Tell me about it, you want to say, but your breaths are coming in harsher now, and speaking would only waste more of the precious air in your scarred lungs. Running had been the most difficult thing to do since you were injured in the fight against Thanos, and even with your best effort, you were slowing them down.       The rumble of motorcycles begins to follow you as you continue to race down abandoned railroad tracks. With a flick of your hand, you make spikes out of the rusted metal, causing the motorcycles to veer off course. It slows down your pursuers, but not by much as they begin to chase you on foot. The three of you duck into an alleyway, and the shots are fired so quickly, you almost miss what happens. An armed man had been standing at the end of the alleyway, and was shot by Zemo before the he could even aim. Then two shots came from an open window in the graffitied brick building lining one side of the alley. Both shots landing squarely in the chests of the two men who were chasing you.       The second those bodies hit the ground, you double over. You cough so violently you think a lung might come out, and you just can’t seem to catch your breath.       Distantly you can hear Zemo and Sam saying something, but it’s hard to make out what over the sound of your own gasps for air and the pain in your chest that makes your head dizzy.       “Sweetheart, you need to slow your breathing,” Bucky whispers in your ear. “Just like we practiced.” You can feel his hand on your back, drawing soothing circles. You take a moment to catch your breath.       When it feels like the ground beneath you is finally still, you straighten up, Bucky’s arm tight around your waist to help keep you steady.       “You good?” Sam asks, but all you can do is give him a small nod.       “Well this is too perfect,” someone speaks from behind you as they make their way up the alley. You know that voice. You fought alongside the person to whom it belongs to. Sharon.       “Drop it, Zemo,” she demands, pointing her pistol at him. He does as he’s told and puts his arms halfheartedly in the air. “You cost me everything.” Not once does she lower her gun, and you realize that she might not be talking just to Zemo.       “Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead,” Sam explains quickly.       “That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” Sharon cocks her head to the side, blond hair swishing slightly in the wind. You can tell by the look on her face that she’s not had an easy go of it, and you berate yourself for not checking in on her after she had helped save Bucky.       “So what are you doing here?” Bucky asks.       “I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she tells him, then turns her attention to Sam. “I also took the wings for your ass, so that you two could save Bucky’s ass from him.” She nods to Zemo, regarding him with more venom than you do. “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up, so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”       “Hey, don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too.”       “Was. Is. Big difference,” she pauses, voice rising a bit when she next speaks. “I don’t talk to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”       “Sharon,” you cough, throat still sore from your run through Lowtown. “Sharon, we’re sorry, but we need your help.” She laughs at that. “Please,” you plead. She looks you up and down. You’re hunched over, cradling your ribs with an arm wrapped around yourself. You’ve not had it easy either. Two sides of the same damned coin of pain and suffering.       “This isn’t over,” she says. “I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while.”       Sam pushes Zemo ahead, and the four of you follow her. —       The drive to High Town is tense. Sharon gives no further details of her life since stealing Steve’s shield and Sam’s wings. Not even Zemo dares to make a comment.       He was right about the stark difference between High Town and Lowtown, though. The neon lights still prevailed, but the further you drive away, the less guns you see.       Sharon’s place is nice, even by High Town standards. Art work lines the walls and is scattered throughout the room in well lit, secure glass cases. Sam makes a crack about how breaking the law has made her quite successful, and he’s right. This is stolen art. Not a route you ever expected her to take, but with her talents, you’re not surprised that she seems to excel at this life.       She leads you into a living room, offering fresh clothes for the party she’s hosting in an hour. One that serves as much as an auction as it does drunken dance hall. The first thing you do is change into more comfortable shoes.       “Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum,” Sam begins to explain.       “You guys really should steer clear of all of this, for your own safety.” Sharon gives you a pointed look.       “We know it’s a risk, but we’re not gonna leave until we find the one who cracked the code.” Sam is confident the group of you will succeed. These things had a way of working out in your favor, but what would success look like? You would all surely be in trouble for breaking Zemo out of prison, and handing over someone who could make super-soldier serum to the government sounded disastrous.       “We got a name. Wilfred Nagel,” Bucky offers up the information.       “Nagel works for the Power Broker,” Sharon replies, standing to pour herself a drink.       “We need your help, Sharon,” Sam says.       After a bit of back and forth between them, Sharon agrees to a deal: she helps the four of you find Nagel and Sam will get her name cleared so she can move back to the States.       The party is the perfect place for her to start. Sharon is well connected, and she would be working those contacts all night while the three of you have a short reprieve. Sharon sure knew how to throw a party.       Booze and drugs flowed freely as people danced among priceless works of art. Bucky leads you through the crowd. He’s wearing a simple black suit and a fitted blazer, why Sharon had such clothes, you didn’t ask, but if you weren’t in Madripoor on an exhausting mission, and you and Bucky weren’t currently in a fight, this could be a fun date. Instead, the three of you take turns keeping an eye on Zemo, and when it becomes Sam’s responsibility, you leave the crowd to find a quiet corner to sit in.       There is a laundry room in the back of the building, beyond the crowds and works of art. You lock yourself in, and you get a few minutes of peace before there’s a knock on the door. You know it’s Bucky before you even open it.       “You okay?” he asks.         “Just needed some air,” you answer. Bucky reaches his right hand up to touch your cheek, then leans in to place a soft kiss of your forehead.       “I’m sorry,” he whispers when he pulls away. “I shouldn’t have said what I did on the plane.”       “Well, maybe you’re right, maybe I shouldn’t have come.” You hate to admit it, but that chase through Madripoor made you feel so weak.       “How are you feeling?” he asks, hand still softly touching your cheek.       “It still feels like something is sitting on my chest,” you tell him, rubbing the spot over your heart with your hand.       “This is what I was worried about.” Bucky pulls his hand away and places both of his on his hips, as if to scold you.       “I know, Buck, but I’m fine, honestly.” He gives you a disbelieving look, so you change the subject. “How are you?”       “You’re worried about me?”       “I’m always worried about you, Buck. You make it hard not to.” You reach out to touch his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm.       He sighs, “I promise, I’m alright.” It’s your turn to give him a look. He meets your eye and concedes. “Pretending to be the Winter Soldier again was… hard, especially with you there. I was worried I’d scare you.”       “You could never. I know you’re still my Bucky.”       “I am glad you’re here. I just wish it was safer for you.” His hand returns to your cheek.       “Well, I can’t go back home now,” you say, holding onto his arm to keep his hand in place. “I’m sure by now they know it was us that broke Zemo out of prison. The second I take a step back in the States, I’ll be locked up.”       Bucky lets out a long frustrated groan. To him, there were no good options here, but he’d rather have you there with him where he could protect you than anywhere else.       “We’ll fix this, together,” he decides. “And I promise, I’ll tell you all of my plans from here on out.”       You lean up to kiss him, and Bucky slides his arms around your waist to keep you there. Your worries melt away as Bucky deepens the kiss, teeth gently biting on your bottom lip. You pull him further into the laundry room, and he kicks the door shut behind you. Your back hits the washer. Bucky’s hands move from your waist to the backs of your thighs, then he lifts you onto the washing machine. You giggle as he sets you down, tugging on the hem of his shirt to untuck it from his pants. Bucky’s hands continue to wander, finding the back of your top and beginning to undo the ties that kept it in place. Both of your shirts are already off when the door opens.       “Really, guys? Couldn’t wait until after the party?” Sam chides.       “Get out, Sam,” Bucky yells, covering your body with his own as you laugh.       “Sharon has something for us, so hurry up and finish,” he calls as he closes the door.       “Guess we better go then,” you whisper. You touch your forehead to his. “I love you, Mr. Barnes.”       “I love you, too Mrs. Barnes.” He smiles.

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[inmyfxith]

Undying Devotion

Pairing: Sully family x f!Omaticaya!reader / Aonung x f!Omaticaya!!reader (mostly at the end)

Warnings: Mention of harm (nothing graphic)

Words: 4k4

-> Requested.

Kneeling behind a bush, your gaze never left the imposing stature of the Hexapede you were trying to chase. Since High Camp, you had followed its tracks, inspecting the ground with great care to detect its footsteps among all those who had trampled this land. You had sniffed the air, letting the breeze blow the few braids that were not held in place at the back of your head, to find his scent. That's when the hunt really started. A chase that brought you alive, a chase that gave you a daily dose of adrenaline during the search, and dopamine once the beast was in your sights. With your father's bow in hand, you moved with the utmost discretion so as not to reveal your presence to the innocently grazing animal. Once you were within range, you strung the bow the way Jake Sully had taught you, elbow up, palm caressing your cheek, gazing straight at the target. After taking a deep breath to adjust your shot, slow your heart and stop your arms from shaking, the arrow shot out and into the neck of the animal, which let out a shrill cry of pain that broke your heart.

Killing living things was never fun for any Na'vi who respected the world around them, but you needed it to live and prosper. Leaping over your bush, you laid your bow on the still cool, wet grass, pulling your hunting knife from its sheath. The beast, which had fallen on its side, was flailing its legs as if trying to escape, shouting to anyone who would listen to come help it. Kneeling beside it, you placed your hand on its head while closing your eyes before thrusting your blade into its heart to put it out of its misery.

In the middle of the forest, you had cut out the skin, the flesh, the entrails to make it easily transportable. Everything usable was wrapped in the large skin that you had just removed and sealed with sinews from other animals, taken from a previous hunt. Although heavy, the hide found its place on your shoulder and, before returning to camp, you made a detour to what remained of the Voice Tree. There, laying the remains of the animal in front of the half-burned tree, you opened your arms, closing your eyes again to let yourself be overwhelmed by the energies that seemed to endure despite the wounds that the place had suffered.

"Great Eywa, mother of all living things, I come before you with gratitude and reverence. I thank you for the abundance of life that surrounds me and sustains me, and I offer my respect and devotion to your wisdom and power. Today, I have hunted and taken the life of one of your creatures, a powerful and noble beast. I ask for forgiveness and understanding, for I know that all life is precious and interconnected in your grand design. I honor this creature and offer its life back to you, to be returned to the cycle of life and death that you have created. I ask that you bless and guide me as I use this gift of life to nourish and sustain myself, and that I always remember the responsibility and respect that comes with taking a life. Great Eywa, may I always be in harmony with your creation and your will." To end your prayer, you placed the heart of the beast at the foot of the tree, in the image of a religious sacrifice before resuming your journey to the refuge of your clan.

Since the return of the skypeople and their new quest to destroy the forest, the Omaticaya had been forced to leave the tree house, falling prey to a threat they could not afford to face directly. So the Olo'eyktan led his people to a more secure and discreet base in the heart of the Hallelujah mountain range. Although this new camp was nothing like the comfort of the tree house, the clan had eventually acclimated to this refuge, making it a new home. Approaching the entrance to the cave, you clicked your tongue in a steady rhythm, announcing to the Na'vi in charge of camp security that you were not an enemy. Seeing you appear from behind the thicket, some of you nodded more respectfully than sincerely. As soon as the shadow of the stone enveloped your face, you found your way back to the hut you shared with your mother, passing the former hut of the Sully family, now occupied by Tarsem. This path had become almost unbearable to take, but it was the shortest way knowing that what you managed to extract from the animal was too heavy to make the journey longer.

You had the impression that the Sullys had left the clan the day before, you remembered the day you heard the news of their departure with great accuracy. The situation was the same, you were returning from hunting and had just dropped off the corpse of a beast in front of their hut when you came upon Tuk organizing her affairs, her eyes glistening with tears. You smiled, imagining that perhaps Neytiri had ended up asking him to sort her toys. Unwittingly, your foot hit a carved wooden figure of the great Leonopteryx, Jake's legendary ikran that looked so much like your own that sometimes when you roamed the skies, some people claimed the last shadow had returned. When she didn't seem to see you, you took the opportunity to surprise her, reaching under her arms to lift her over your head and make her look like she was flying. The little girl, surprised, started to laugh, making a sound more sad than happy.

"What's the matter with you, Tuk Tuk?" You asked, your arms around her waist and your head resting on her shoulder while your knees were on the ground. Tuk rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand before sniffling loudly. She pivoted so that she could easily wrap her arms around your neck and find comfort in the crook of your arms.

"We're going to leave," she said in a trembling voice. Not really understanding what she was getting at, or what she assumed, you looked around until you came upon Kiri carrying a woven basket, presumably to store provisions. You tried to question her silently, but the girl remained silent, almost ashamed to have to tell you the sad truth. The Sullys were preparing to leave the clan. The Sullys were about to leave you.

Sitting in the grass, the breeze caressed your face as you watched Kiri rest before the big departure. As always, her motionless body was surrounded by forest spirits floating around her. Her expression, peaceful, made her face almost childlike. She was so amazingly gentle that it made you want to protect her. And that was what you had always tried to do when other children had made her the focus of their teasing. You had always been close to the Sullys, but especially to her, acting as a big sister, standing in for Neteyam in terms of her protection. Even though you had already been settled for several hours, and the calmness surrounded you, you were already dreading the moment of farewell because, even if Kiri had asked you, it was impossible for you to leave the High Camp, to leave your mother. And, as you put down the carcass of the hunted beast in front of your hut, a simple glance towards the one of the Olo'eyktan made you feel a strange feeling of mourning.

Tears had rolled down your cheeks as you said your goodbyes, which you convinced yourself were just goodbyes.

"Don't cry, we'll see each other soon," Neteyam said as he hugged you, but the truth is that without them you were lost. Without them, your perfect world would fall apart. You missed Lo'ak's jokes, Neteyam's strange wisdom and Tuk's laughter. The Sullys were your family. Your mother was also deeply affected by their departure; Jake and Neytiri had always made it a point to care for her after your father's untimely death. That's why, while she was brooding in your hut, you put your own emotions aside, pretending to live in harmony with yourself to give her a new environment. Besides hunting and fishing, you spent your free time in the human laboratory observing Grace's avatar as you used to do with Kiri. Before she left, she had almost made you promise to take care of her mother, as if you had the right skills to do so. But you thanked her inwardly when, weeks later, as you found yourself straddling Grace's avatar incubator, you heard Norm start to panic. He had probably forgotten you were there because he didn't hide the reason for his behavior for a second.

Drops of sweat were still beading on his forehead as he hurried to gather medical supplies. As you approached the radar that he kept on day and night, the screen displayed a small mound of islands on one of which a small green dot was flashing with coordinates. You didn't know what it was all about, an earthquake, an important discovery, the imminent arrival of the skypeople in the camp. But your questions ended when Max entered the laboratory after having put several avatars to sleep.

"It's Kiri!" Norm threw to him without further context, drawing your attention further.

"What Kiri? Norm, what's going on with Kiri?" You questioned him, leaving the concern that had just arisen in you. The scientist then became aware of your presence and his mistake. Seeing that he didn't answer, you approached him, frowning and taking a threatening look that you would have preferred not to show. Turning back to Max, he told him they had to leave as soon as possible and, before you had a chance to respond, the two men began to gather equipment.

Your instinct controlled your emotions faster than your reason and, returning to your mother's hut, you suddenly began to cry. Your mind was racing with conjecture, imagining that the worst things in the world had happened to your best friend, one of the people who meant the most to you, and you weren't even there for her. Returning from the gathering with a small group of other women, your mother found you kneeling by the semblance of a fire that was still crackling, your eyes filled with tears, and your cheeks pink with the saltiness of the tear fluid. Without waiting, she dropped her basket to join you, taking you almost instantly in her arms and asking you what could be causing you so much grief.

"I failed, Mom," you blurted out, holding back another sob, letting her arms wrap around you and finding a protection that normally only you could provide. She stroked your hair, rocking you gently, waiting for you to tell her more.

"I failed," you repeated before you realized what you were doing. Of course your mother would never hold you responsible for the situation you found yourself in, it was natural to snap from time to time. Still, you broke free of her embrace, exhaling the air from your lungs several times to regain your composure before explaining the situation as clearly as possible.

"Imagine that the person you love most in the world is in danger, that you know where they are, but you can't get to them because you have obligations elsewhere. And then you feel guilty and helpless and..."

"Sweetheart, we can't help everyone," she took a deep breath at the unconvinced look you gave her. "You know, when the skypeople started this war years ago, when you weren't even an idea, your father saved me. By then he had already become the Olo'eyktan of our clan, and while I was walking in the forest collecting berries, some Men captured me. I was afraid, I was almost beginning to think that Eywa had abandoned me. That I was paying for all the bad things we had done, even without realizing it. And, just when I thought it was all over, he came and saved me." She rarely spoke of Tsu'tey, the man who had saved her and made her his Tsahik. Her eyes had become almost glassy and, she was no longer looking at you. "What I mean to say, my darling, is that I don't need to be saved anymore. I know you promised Eywa to protect me, to take care of me. But that is not your role, and it never was." She approached you again, this time placing her hand on your back. "So if your greatest desire today is to go to Kiri. Then go, I offer you my blessing. And I will pray to Eywa every day for you to find her.”

Although still full of guilt, but this time for a different reason, you packed a few things, including your bow and some arrows, before putting on your flight gear. The helicopter's propellers had just started turning when you mounted your ikran, ready for a journey of several hours.

As your ikran flew over the beach of the village of Awa'atlu, your determination to find Kiri overrode the fact that many of the native Na'vi on the islands seemed almost afraid of your mount's size. When Norm and Max's helicopter found a place to land on one of the stretches of beach, you jumped onto the warm sand, letting your ikran fly away until your next call. With your bow on your back, most of the Metkayina took you as a threat at first before you spoke the next words.

"I am looking for Kiri. Kiri te Suli Kirevsi'ite." Although they spoke the same language as you, everyone seemed to look at you as if you were from a completely different planet. You were about to get angry when the crowd split, creating a path for a small group of boys. At the head of it stood a proud boy who couldn't have been much older than you. He looked at you from head to toe with a look in which you detected a haughty side and another indecipherable expression. As no one seemed inclined to answer you, you let out a sharp cry in the air and, only a few moments later, your ikran came to rest on the sand, a few meters behind you. You didn't take your eyes off the boy, however, he had come to test you, and the mischievous smile he gave you when he saw your beast was enough to convince you that this game was won.

With a nod, he urged you to follow him, and so you did, still holding your bow firmly in your hand. After a few steps on the warm sand, you finally spotted Neteyam, leaning against a palm tree, sharpening the tip of a spear made of a lighter wood than you were used to using. Neteyam was like you, he always needed to keep himself busy so that his mind would not wander to and fro. The young man who escorted you walked with a pride that, beside you, seemed almost out of place. He sometimes glanced over his shoulder at you, as if he were trying to find a way to engage you in conversation but couldn't.

"Sully! Someone's here for you." The boy tossed to Neteyam who instantly raised his head before throwing his spear to approach you as if there was no way you were actually standing in front of him. Neteyam stopped a few inches away from you, as if to make sure it was really you before taking you in his arms. It was a strange sensation, you felt alive again, as if you had just found your home.

"I promised you we'd meet again," he whispered before your gaze caught the shadow of questioning that passed before his eyes. He was probably wondering how you had found them, or why you had decided, only now, to join them. To cut short all that, you spoke up, explaining the situation.

"Norm told Max that Kiri was in danger. You know how much your sister...you know how much you mean to me, I could stand there with my arms crossed...so I followed the helicopter and, here I am." His expression suddenly changed, showing the concern he was trying to curb by sharpening his spear. Without adding anything more, he moved slightly away, pointing with his chin to the hut where his family had been living for the past few months and where Norm and Max had just been unjustly thrown out by Neytiri, whose voice you recognized. Neteyam then glanced at the young man who had brought you to him, offering him a nod of thanks before putting his hand on your back to lead you forward.

As you walked toward the hut, your heart began to beat so fast that you thought it would burst out of your chest. The hand that held your bow began to get sticky because you were afraid of what you would find. Neteyam told you to wait for him a few meters away from the hut, so that he could tell his family about your arrival and make sure that everything was okay. So you observed the surroundings, the crystalline sea, the few Metkayina who were busy fishing for animals more elegant than those of your forest and, as your gaze had just landed on the strange aquatic mount of the members of this clan, a voice diverted your attention. Swinging back toward the hut, Tuk ran toward you, arms open and shouting your name. Laying your bow at your feet, you knelt down to welcome him into your arms.

"I see you missed me, Tuk Tuk. Guess what, I missed you too." You whispered before kissing her forehead. In the frame of the hut, Neytiri was helping Kiri stand and when your gaze met hers, you felt relieved to see that she was alive. Soon Kiri told you what had happened since her family had arrived at the Metkayina home, and why Jake had felt compelled to call in Norm and Max. Although she was almost angry at him for thinking of them, Kiri told you that she was glad he had done so, because you had been able to find her.

Awa'atlu was an amazing place, so different from what you had always known. You were not one of the few Metkayina who looked at you with a worried expression every time you passed by. Perhaps they thought that at any moment the beast you were riding would appear from behind the horizon to take them away from their beloved beach. You missed your mother, and High Camp, hunting had become different here as you turned to fishing under the wise advice of the boy who had led you to Neteyam, and whom you understood to be the son of the clan chief. Tonowari had not made your presence known because of your attachment to the Sully, and he probably just assumed that you were related. The boy in question, Aonung, always seemed to find a way to approach you, whether you were in the water or on the beach. Without really addressing you, he would sometimes tell you the extent of his exploits which, to be quite honest, sometimes seemed slightly ridiculous. Kiri had, of course, told you the story of her altercation with him, which had caused Lo'ak and Neteyam to be beaten up by Jake. So your regard for him was lower than he would have expected. Despite this, you were not unpleasant in his presence, keeping in mind that if he could afford to fight without consequences, he would probably be capable of many other things.

Within a few weeks, you had almost found a place with the Metkayina, learning to live like them and in harmony with the new marine ecosystem. However, the calm could only be short-lived, and before you even had time to make your first trip back to the mountains, the skypeople emerged as a threat on the horizon.

"I forbid you to fight, you are much too young." Being able to understand what was at stake with the skypeople's return, it took you only a few seconds to grab your bow and prepare to ride the heir of the last shadow towards the fight. But Jake didn't seem to think so, and as you were about to leave your hut to meet Kiri and Tuk in the water, he grabbed you by the arm.

Frowning, you broke away from his grip before proudly announcing, "Far be it from me to disrespect you, but it turns out that today you are no longer my Olo'eyktan, nor even my father." Taking on his grave air, he merely offered you a nod, aware that he could not retaliate without a valid argument. Not even your mother could have dissuaded you from going on a crusade, because she would have been one of the first arguments. By ridding Pandora of the enemy, everyone could live in harmony. So it is with determination that you joined the girls, ready to protect them from all possible dangers. But, while you hoped to find in Awa'atlu a strong position, Lo'ak came to divert your plans. Since Kiri had wanted to follow her brother, you followed him, discovering there the impressive Tulkun who answered to the name of Payakan. The boat then emerged from the horizon and, as everyone left the tulkun on the back of their ilu, Tsireya offered you to get on hers, or rather she pulled your hand to force you to leave.

The rest, you knew, was inevitable. Lo'ak, Tsireya and Tuk were captured. Having managed to escape thanks to the pockets of air provided by the immense underwater vegetation, you watched from afar the few attacks of Payakan, amazed by the beauty of a beast that you had surely involuntarily underestimated. You could not afford to remain helpless in the face of the situation and, calling your ikran, you rode it to the boat, your bow attached to its seal, you managed to hit a man while flying over the boat before your mount caught him to throw him into the ocean. As the ship slowly began to sink, you landed. Neteyam and Lo'ak were still on the ship, you had seen them go inside the iron giant, cursing them inwardly. The metal was cold, adding perfectly to the atmosphere of the place. Your bow still in hand, an arrow ready to be shot, you groped your way forward, using your keen hearing to find your prey.

Kneeling behind a thick metal plate, your gaze never left the imposing stature of the Na'vi soldier who held his weapon so firmly that it appeared to be an extension of his arm. From the small gap through which you had entered the ship, you had followed their tracks, inspecting the ground with great care for mud or any trace of passage. You sniffed the stuffy air for an unfamiliar smell. That's when the hunt really started. A chase that made you come alive, a chase that had once given you a daily dose of adrenaline during the search, and dopamine once the beast was in your sights. Gunshots rang out to your right, drawing not only your attention but also that of your prey, who rushed towards the origin of the noise. Following quietly, you saw Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Spider, safe from their enemies' fire, as a Na'vi lay dead on the ground. Other soldiers appeared next to the one you had initially tried to chase away, and while Lo'ak and Spider had just jumped into the water to escape, Neteyam would not have made it, and you were more than aware of that.

Without thinking, you shot your arrow, hitting your prey in the head, forcing him to the ground, diverting for a moment the attention of the soldiers who now had to fight on two fronts. You had just given Neteyam time to flee, and he had seized your opportunity. But now the soldiers knew where you were, and even if you tried to turn back, bullets were raining down on you.

When the air hit your face again, your first action was to call your ikran, which took only a few seconds to reach you and allow you to leave the ship. Aware of your flight, the soldiers regrouped on the deck to prevent you from flying further. Even though you were skilled, two bullets managed to find their way into the flesh of your arm and thigh, causing the pain you were unprepared for. Squeezing one of your wounds, you let your mount pull you back to solid ground as the world slowly began to spin around you. Setting foot on the sand, the pain in your leg was so sharp that you could only take two steps before you collapsed to the ground, letting the waves caress your feet and the sun warm your face.

You emerged into the Sully hut, Tuk's face close to yours.

"Hey, Tuk Tuk, did you miss me?" The little girl offered you a smile and, you winced as you tried to lift your arm to ruffle her hair. You then straightened up, admiring the bands that now adorned your arm and thigh. If Tuk and Neytiri were here, then the battle had to be over. "Did everyone make it?" You asked Neytiri then, suddenly overcome with a sense of apprehension that you had to keep quiet. The mother of the family offered you a smile similar to her youngest daughter's, nodding in response. Then you let out a sigh before lying back down, relieved to have helped bring peace to Pandora.

By the time you were well enough to leave the hut on your own, the Metkayina were already holding ceremonies to celebrate the return of a peace that would probably not last.

As the campfire crackled and popped, you sat silently, lost in thought. You gaze was fixed on the distant horizon, where the first rays of dawn were starting to break through the darkness. Despite this, you noticed Aonung while looking to the waves.

He leaned back against a nearby log, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded you with a cocky expression.

"Nothing in particular," he replied. "Just thought I'd come and see how you were doing." You snorted, clearly not believing him.

"Right," you muttered sarcastically. "Because that's exactly what you're known for, isn't it? Your kindness and concern for others." Aonung's smirk deepened, enjoying the banter between you.

"Touché," he said, chuckling lightly. "But you have to admit, it's more fun when we're not at each other's throats." You rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, you couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

"I guess you have a point there," you conceded. Aonung pushed himself up from the log and walked over to you, his expression turning serious.

"But in all seriousness, how are you doing?" he asked, his voice softening. "Do you need any help with your wounds?"

Tag -> @eywas-heir ; @cullenswife ; @liyahsocorro

#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #kiri #kiri imagine #kiri imagines #aonung #aonung imagines #neteyam #neteyam imagines

[cha-melodius]

✨ 🍭 💌 for the fic writer asks :)

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

Ok, well, it's not really the season for it yet, but The Spirit of Giving has the least amount of hits of all of my rwrb fics, and it's such a cute little potluck enemies story. In fact it's not even that Christmassy at all, so maybe I shot myself in the foot with that tag because people don't want to read stuff out of season.

🍭why did you start writing?

Simplest answer for this is to get the stories out of my head. I wrote fanfic ages ago when I was like 13–14, and then I took a long break and even though I was involved with fandom stuff still, I never thought to read or write fanfic. I would often dream up scenarios in my head as I was trying to fall asleep, and at one point I started constantly going over this one particular one in my head so I didn't forget it, until I was like. Oh, this is stupid, I should write it down.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Oh hmmm. Well I'm excited that the You've Got Mail AU is likely going to be a proper long fic (by which I mean >50k words, at least 10 chapters), complete with a slow burn and pining and some really juicy angst. I love sharing stories like that, and it's been a while since I did one of those. Unfortunately that means I also have to WRITE all of those words, lmao.

Thanks for the ask!

Writer asks!

#asks and answers #about my writing #about my fics #rwrb #firstprince

[thesorcererspen]

And Here Lies My Heart

@flashfictionfridayofficial #FFF188 'Where Secrets Lie'

Look at me. Fucking coward. I couldn't even say it. I may never see him again, and yet--maybe I should turn back.

But I just can't do it. Because I am a fucking coward. Not that he would ever believe that.

He thinks too highly of me. I'm not even the hero of my own story.

He's better off, honestly.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, my eyes burning with unshed tears. My breath shook, struggling to calm myself down. My mind was in a hurricane, but the road ahead was clear, so I pressed my foot harder on the gas pedal.

My eyes were pulled forward, focused on the road ahead. Through the windshield, I could see the barren wasteland stretched for miles. It wasn't a very long drive from where we'd parted ways to the highway, but it still felt as though I hadn't moved for a long time. Trapped here with my thoughts and my bitter regrets.

Would he be happier without me around?

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. I let my car drift slowly in the middle of the empty road.

I wanted to be worthy of him.

If I'd had the balls to admit it to him myself, I'd have said this:

"I love you."

But I didn't want to risk him not saying those words back to me. He's the only true friend I've ever had. Why ruin it over 'feelings?'

Fuck my feelings, right?

I put more pressure on the gas pedal, speeding up my vehicle.

He always hated when I drove fast. Hated how reckless I was. But I need this right now.

I looked down, seeing the pavement rushing past me. There was nothing ahead but empty fields and the open road. Even though it was dark, the headlights lit the way for the blacktop far in advance.

Wait! Am I seriously doing 120 right now?!

The car swerved violently to the left, and I slammed my foot down on the brake. The car skidded to a stop.

It lurched forward again, but there was nowhere to go, and I felt like I'd been struck blind; my vision was blurred around the edges, and my hearing was muffled as if I were underwater. There was a loud squeal as metal shrieked against metal. I braced myself as the car spun wildly around, bouncing across the road.

The wheels locked as the car stopped again, spinning slowly in place as the engine roared. Everything happened in slow motion. A flash of white in my peripheral vision.

I couldn't stop. I couldn't pull over.

Nothing was on the road to keep me from sliding right off the edge of and into a deep ravine. The car was still accelerating, and there was no way I could stop it in time.

No, no, no, no, NO!!

I screamed, gripping the wheel with all my might.

The car shot forward with a deafening roar. It seemed to leap off the edge of the road and into oblivion, disappearing instantly beneath the earth.

I was thrown violently forward against the seat belt as the car careened toward the ravine, then slowed abruptly to a halt.

All was quiet. There was nothing but the whirr of the tires and the faint sound of wind rushing through the trees.

This can't be happening. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

A sharp pain stabbed into my chest.

I coughed, spluttering blood.

I'm going to die here. Here in the middle of nowhere. Alone.

I can't feel my legs. They must've been crushed by the car in the crash. I couldn't feel much else either.

Oh my God. I really am going to die here.

I'll never see him again.

I'll never get to tell him how I really feel.

And here is where my secret will lie, in the grave.

#writeblr #writing community #writercommunity #writers on tumblr #flash fiction #writing #writeblr community #creative writing #death cw #injury cw

[jostweinberger-archived]

The Dorf Hunt Journey

Dorf Hunt is a post-apocalyptic thriller set in the near future. We follow two friends, Jan and Ana. The two survivors have lost everything and are forced to sleep in the woods and hunt with a bow and arrow to forage for food. When Jan’s foot gets trapped in a beartrap set by Arlan. The antagonist hears the scream and comes to the scene to offer help. Arlans wife Josie is a doctor and disinfects and stitches up the wound. Josie and Arlan thereby earn the trust of their prey. Although Ana remains on edge after Arlan has a PTSD episode. Her fears are proven to be true when Arlan smashes Jans head whilst he is enjoying his dinner. Josie and Arlan are Cannibals. Ana jumps to her feet and fights on the ground before giving up and fleeing the house. The next morning she returns traumatized to kill Jans killers and to feast on them in vengeance.

 I wanted intensity that grabs and draws you into the next scene. Along with challenging myself to avoid jump cuts wherever possible. Whilst the film couldn't be a slow burn thriller within the prescribed 12-minute time limit. The scenes themselves would be drawn out as though a stage play for theatre was being put on with cuts being made only when absolutely necessary.

Over the summer I visited the location. This gave me the opportunity to make an exact floor plan of how I wanted the camera and actors to move through the space. It also let me think more about possible lighting setups. I had envisioned the interior daytime scenes to be lit by the daylight coming through the large windows to be the only source of lighting. Then at night, faces would mainly be lit from beneath with candles sitting on the table. To show the post-apocalyptic nature of this universe and to cast flickering and unsettling shadows on the faces of the actors. A soft rim would also be given to deepen the illusion of more candles filling the space in unseen areas. Finally, I was inspired by Stanley Kubrick's eyes wide shut and the film's use of deep blue lighting peering through the windows at night in Dr. Hartfords apartment. (Kubrick, 1999) However when we came to shoot, neither I nor the DoP Kolja Bolt had tested this lighting setup in advance. And this showed on camera, the 650s from Arri didn't give us the effect I wanted on camera when we set them up. In reflection we should have just turned them off  and the scene would have been fine. But I only realized half way through directing the dinner scene that this exterior lighting looked silly. Like car headlights. Not super noticeable but still casting light shadows which we now had to keep or they would ruin the continuity of earlier shots.

After the summer holidays I invited all cast and crew members that were already on board including others who I could potentially see being onboard of this project and I gave a twenty minute presentation on my plans for the initial pre-production. After a few questions the feedback was resoundingly good and it felt like people were now actually ready to commit to this project full time. This was especially apparent among the actors as they agreed to my rehearsal schedule of two times a week with each session being two hours long. With a total of eighteen rehearsal hours the characters were really well rounded and I trusted the actors to deliver a well rounded performance with me only jumping in on occasion to shape the emotional flow. This led to a very satisfying work flow on set. It also helped that Bree Shaw had a lot of fight choreography under her belt which led to a really fine tuned fight performance. Thus saving us a lot of time on set.  

The edit was supposed to begin a week after we had wrapped the shoot. In preparation to beginning the edit I went through all the takes and made a list detailing all the ones I wanted to use so that Alan Cooke the sound mixer could already synced those up in advance. When it was time to begin the edit with Miranda Siegel as we had planned three weeks in advance she called me letting me know she had covid. This set us back around two weeks. But still we managed to begin the edit with a trip to an Apple store to purchase a mac studio which would serve as our editing ring. Whilst our editing workflow was coming along nicely and the picture cut was done by the 18th of december which was the new deadline Siegel and I had set ourselves. This was also communicated with the rest of the sound team. However, communication and perhaps motivation was low on their end as the Christmas break had now started for all of us. I was very clear about our final deadline for this project. But still I had to keep chasing behind Alan Cooke and Filip Tomic asking when they would be able to deliver. Until the evening of the set of January when Alan let me know that his hard drive had failed. All the files were uploaded to google drive as a backup but he claimed the downloads were failing. Through this I learned that it is better to work with people you might not love on a personal level as long as they can be counted on to be reliable.        

To conclude, I really enjoyed working on this film together with what for the most part were really engaging team members.  I consider it to be the first film I can call mine that I am proud of. Though now I accept that I held my colleagues and myself to too high of a standard. This led to unrealistic expectations of what I thought we would be able to achieve with this film. It also would have been nice to not have to carry the additional burden of the producer role. Something I’ll be keeping in mind for future projects.

#film #thriller #post apocalyptic #director #producer #short film #script writing

[theunquenchablethirst]

Joyride (Jerome X Reader)

Smut, NSFW, 18+, porn without plot, honestly just hot, nasty filth 

Do not read unless you are a deviant!

Reader is walking home down a street she knows just like the back of her hand, but today there's an unfamiliar car parked up. Paying it no mind she continues past it, but soon discovers today is not going to be any regular day when a sinister voice calls to her from the mysterious car behind her.

Vaginal fingering, blowjobs, rough sex, semi-public sex, car sex, bondage, chocking, spanking, dom/sub undertones, dub-con, strong language, murder, kidnap

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Masterlist

I walked that street nearly every day, to and from Gotham High. I had for years. This would be my last year as I was 18 and about to graduate.

Everything seemed as normal as ever. The pretzel cart, the lady that walked her little dog, the kids playing jump rope. A fairly quiet street. I didn't know it then, but that day would be anything, but normal.

I was approaching the end of the street where I would cross the road. There was a car parked up I hadn't seen before. Big, black with tinted windows. I didn't pay it much attention and wasn't hesitant to carry on my walk past it. I reached the end of the street and stood waiting for the traffic to quiet so I could cross over, then behind me I heard the familiar sound of a car window winding down.

"Hey, princess." A sinister voice called.

I turned to look and peering out of the black car window was him. The most dangerous, most wanted man in Gotham city. Jerome Valeska.

I'd only seen him on the news and in papers before, but even then, he had scared me. He'd brought the city to its knees and left a trail of bodies and madness wherever he went. And now he was right in front of me.  

"Can I give you a ride?" He asked with his signature smile plastered on his scarred face, voice dripping with menace.

I froze still. I wanted to run as fast as I could, but his stare glued me to my spot.

"Come on, doll. I'll be nice."

I took a step back, weighing the risk of making a run for it. He sucked his teeth and looked down for something.

"I'd offer you candy, but uh..." He pulled a gun up to the window and pointed it at me.

"... Something tells me I won't need to." His smile somehow grew bigger as he locked his eyes on mine.

My heart was beating so loud I thought the whole city would be able to hear it. I had no choice. Knees weak, I nervously walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. I sat in the seat next to him, but pressed myself as close to the window as I could. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, even if it was only by a few inches.  

"Ah, safety first. Seatbelt." He said dropping his smile and cocking his head.

Not caring weather or not he was joking, I pulled down the belt and buckled myself in. I did not want to make him angry. He grinned eerily and panic rose in my chest as his eyes burned holes in me.  

He reached a gloved hand out to my face. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear and stroked his knuckles down my jaw line and neck. His hand moved lower still down my arm, only stopping when he got to my shaking hand. I was grasping my bag so tightly my knuckles had turned white. He tugged at it a few times wanting me to let go. I released the bag and he pulled it off my lap and into his.

"Let's see what we got here."

He started to rummage through my possessions pulling each one out, mostly dubbing them boring and dumping them out of the window.

"Pain killers, boring. Pencil case, extra boring. Ooh, Jolly Ranchers! Don't mind if I do!"

He popped a sweet in his mouth, threw the rest over his shoulder into the back seat and got back to snooping.

"Keys, boring. Oh! A diary! I'll save that for later! A can of mace...."

He paused then let out a loud cackle as he held the mace.

"Oh, princess! Bet you wish you'd switched this out for a gun right about now!" He continued to giggle as he dived a hand back in.

"Aha! Phone!" He dropped my bag back in my lap and opened up my flip phone.

"You won't be needing this." He smirked and snapped it, letting the two halves fall and disappear under the driver's seat. Dread began to settle in as it dawned upon me that I now had no way to call for help and my mace was lying in the street. Not that it would've been much use against him anyway.

"Ok! Let's get this party started!" His giggled as he turned the key in the ignition. He turned towards me and revved the engine.

"Vroom, vroom." He mocked.

I sat there clutching my bag, waiting for the car to start moving. He fiddled with the gear stick and then slammed his foot down on the pedal as if there was a deadly bug that needed to be squashed. The tyres screeched like they were taking a layer of tarmac with them and he took off like a boy racer.  

I let out a scream as the sudden, fast pace sent a shockwave right through me. I sent my hands searching for something, anything to hold on to. There was a turn coming up, but I noticed it too late and I was flung into the side of the door like a ragdoll. All the time the loudest noise in my ear was maniacal laughter coming from Jerome in driver's seat. He was driving like he stole it, but then again, it was entirely possible he did.

"More?" He looked at me with a mischievously.

I shook my head, breathlessly, praying to any god that was listening that he actually cared about my answer.

"I think more." He sharply turned into an empty car park and spun around and around and around. I was pressed right up against him as I clung to the bottom of my seat. He laughed and banged his hand on the wheel, continuing to spin us around.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" I screamed forgetting myself.  

"Oh, I love 'em with fire!" He laughed again.  

Then all of a sudden, he stopped. I jolted forwards like a crash dummy so hard I thought I would hit the windshield. He'd been right about the seatbelt. I stared straight ahead and tried to catch my breath, when I heard angry shouting. An employee of the restaurant that owned the car park was making his way over to us with a red face.

Jerome stuck his head out of the window.

"What's that, pal?"  

I heard more shouting.

"Ok." Jerome reached for the gun and shot the employee straight in the head. I gasped at the sound and he fell down like a sack of bricks.

"Problem solved." Jerome grinned and pocketed the gun.

I felt my stomach turn. I'd just seen a murder right in front of me. That poor man. Jerome started the car again and left the car park, where he'd left a dead body and certainly tyre tracks.

"Some fun, eh kid?" He smiled at me. I couldn't find any words to reply. He sighed.

"I hate awkward silences." He reached down and turned on the radio. He flicked through a few channels until he found one playing music he seemed to like. An old rock station.

"Now this is better!" He looked at me with a satisfied smile, but dropped it when I still didn't reply.

"How do I get you to talk? Do I gotta drop a quarter in ya?" He turned another corner onto a straight, quiet road.

"I know." He smirked with a menacing look in his eyes.  

He pushed the pedal down, once again picking up speed. He was driving like there was money on it, but I'd at least managed to brace myself this time. He slowed a little as he got in place to drive side by side with the only other car on the road. He chuckled darkly to himself and then I realized why. Fear took my senses when I saw in the not too far distance, heading straight at us was a giant truck. The driver in the car next to us began to honk the horn and flash obscene hand gestures as the truck grew closer, but Jerome simply turned the radio up and began singing along with the words.

"Jerome..." I said tugging at his arm.

Nothing. And the truck was now honking at us to move.  

"Jerome!"  

The truck was too close for comfort. The sense that I was about to be flattened because of the idiot at the wheel filled my body.

"Jerome, move the damn car!" I shook his arm fiercely and slammed my fists in my chair.

He finally burst out cackling maniacally with an outrageous smile.

He slammed down the pedal and pulled forward in front of the car beside us, missing the truck by a hair. He laughed and howled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever experienced, whilst I sighed the biggest sigh of my life and slid low down my seat. He pulled over and parked.

"Nothing like a little near-death experience to get the blood flowing, eh doll?"  

I had melted into my seat and wasn't really paying attention.

"So, how'd you like me so far?"

"Is that a serious question?" I replied breathlessly. I didn't know where I got the confidence for it, but the words were coming out.

He just giggled.

"Ok, how about I behave... For a while."

"How about you let me go?"

He lifted a long finger at me.

"Tut tut, doll face. Don't make me wiggle my finger at you."

I shuffled backwards in my seat, propping myself upright again.

"So, you know my name? Are you stalking me?" He put his hand on his chest in mock fear.

"Everyone in Gotham knows your name. You're Jerome Valeska. You've terrorised the city and murdered dozens of people. The Gotham Gazette makes sure we don't miss these things."  

"The Gotham Gazette, huh? Note to self, send a gift basket their way." He chuckled to himself then looked at me.

“So, what’s yours?”

I told him my name. I was reluctant, but I was already here in the car with him.

“Hm, cute.” He replied.

I didn’t know why, but him calling me cute made me blush a little. I hoped he didn’t notice.

“You look fun.” He smiled.

“What do you mean?” I asked the question, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the answer.

He pulled my diary out of the door pocket.

“Let’s get to know you, shall we?”  

“That’s private.” I said sheepishly. I really didn’t want him reading what was in there, but I knew I couldn’t stop him.

“Not anymore.” Jerome flicked through the pages, skimming them for interesting thoughts and secrets. It didn’t look like he was finding anything juicy, until he stopped at one page and read it in its entirety.

“I got asked out by a guy in my maths class. He’s nice, but really boring. Just like everyone else in my life. Even if I wanted to go out with him, my dad wouldn’t allow it. He says men are the devil and the only one I can trust is him. Yeah right, Mr it’s 5’oclock somewhere. Even if I took that seriously, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. The only guys in my life are complete clichés. So very predictable, so very dull. I’m so bored of this same old-same old. I want something exciting, an adventure. I need some thrills in this beige goddamn existence!”

He repeated back to me the words I had written just a week prior. He turned to me with a predatory look in his eyes. He let the diary fall from his hands carelessly and I knew then that I would be his prey. He took his gloves off and reached a hand towards my knee. He stroked and squeezed my leg and then journeyed up higher, fingers crawling underneath the hem of my skirt.

“Be careful what you wish for, doll face.” He smirked, darkly.

My breath caught in my chest and I felt a warmth in my core.

"I thought you said you were gonna behave." I peeped.

"I did, didn't I? I guess I lied."  

He pulled my skirt up and ran a finger along my panty covered slit. He was turning me on. I wanted him. He was everything I had been looking for, but it was wrong. I couldn’t give in to this.

"Please... Stop..." I pleaded pathetically.

"Mmm, I don't think I will."  

He softly rubbed my folds through the white cotton. My breath got heavier and I felt the heath build.

"It would be so easy for me to push these little things out of the way and slide my fingers inside you, right now. Wouldn't it?"

"Please... Don't..."

He giggled darkly.

"Oh, princess. You're just too cute."  

He smiled as he moved the material to the side exposing my entrance. He slid his fingers up and down my slit, my juices covering the tips. I squirmed at his touch and tried to scooch back in my seat.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, doll, but you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't really want me inside you." He cooed. His words crashed into me like rocks. He could read my body just as well as my diary. I couldn't hide my desire from him and I didn’t want too.  

He continued to rub for a few more seconds before plunging a finger deep inside me. I let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion and he smirked, seemingly satisfied with my response. He worked me with his finger, pulling out before sliding it back in and deciding to add another. He slowly pulsed his fingers inside me, palming over my clit as he slid in and out, again and again. The swell of warmth in me grew as I rocked my hips.

He pulled his fingers out entirely, leaving me disappointed and empty. I looked at him as he examined the juices coating him. He smiled at me and raised them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

"Mmm. You're so sweet." He said as he lowered them, his voice now deeper and slightly raspy.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, then did mine. He pushed the bag off my lap down to where my feet were and reached his arm around my waist, pulling me backwards, closer to him. He leaned me against him as one hand travelled up from my waist and wrapped around my throat. His other came down, pulled up my skirt and parted my thighs. He pushed my panties to the side once again and introduced his other hand to my wetness. His two fingers sliding in and out, but this time a little faster and much deeper. I let a yelp escape my mouth and his hand squeezed harder around my throat. His hot breath in the crook of my neck gave me goosebumps and sent chills down my spine.  

He explored my walls entirely, hitting all the right spots, hot pleasure pulsing through my muscles as they clenched around his talented digits. He palmed my clit applying a gentle amount of pressure and rubbing in circles. I bit my lip in an attempt muffle my moans.

"Nuh uh. Let me hear you, baby girl." He taunted in my ear.

Two fingers from the hand around my throat pulled my mouth open and played with my tongue.  

"You got something to say, princess?" He pushed his fingers deeper into me until his knuckles stopped him from going any further and pumped them, his thumb circling my clit in sweet slow motions. A loud moan escaped my throat and he smiled evilly.

"That's better." He snarled as he put his full hand back around my throat.  

My legs started to stiffen and I felt my climax build as I tightened around his fingers.

"You wanna cum, baby?"  

He worked his fingers inside my walls and his thumb on my clit, slightly increasing the pressure. His breath came closer to my ear and I felt him take it gently in his teeth. I yelped at the shock of his bite.  

"Mm. So cute."

I rocked my hips against his hand. My release was close, it just needed a little push.

"Cum for me, princess. Cum on my fingers."

As if on his command, the dam burst and my climax washed over me. My legs shook and I moaned as I rode it out. He pulled his fingers out of me slid them in my mouth so I could taste my own juices.

“See, gorgeous. I can play nice.” He buried his face in my hair and took in my scent. He hummed to himself and I felt his grip on my throat tighten. He pulled me forwards and pushed me towards the back seat.

“My turn.” He grinned as he sat up.

I climbed into the back, closely followed by Jerome. I sat down and he straddled me, towering over me with his red hair brushing against the car ceiling. I saw the outline of his hard member pushing against the inside of his trousers. It was right in front of my face and my mouth watered for it. I suppose he caught me looking because he started to palm himself and lifted my chin up so I was looking at him.

“Do you have something sweet for me?” He leaned down closer to me, his grip on my face tightening.

I swallowed and felt the lump in my throat. He crashed his lips onto mine. The kiss was hard and forceful, just like he was. His tongue pushed into my mouth and fought for dominance over mine. It was an easy win for him. He tasted sweet, like the Jolly Ranchers. I assumed that wasn’t the first candy he’d eaten that day. He pulled away from me and smiled, studying my face with hooded eyes.

“Yummy.” He whispered.  

He rose back up and unbuckled his belt. He pulled it from out of its loops, held it in front of him and snapped it quickly. I flinched at the loud sound of the leather.

“Hands.” He ordered in a serious, intimidating tone that aroused me all the more.

I held my hands up to him and he looped the belt in and around my wrists, tightly bonding them together.

“No hands for this. I wanna see how that pretty little mouth works.” He smirked lifting my chin again, tugging my bottom lip with his thumb.

He palmed himself a little more and then unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall around his knees. I could see through his boxers that he was fully erect already. He slid them down and they joined his trousers. Jerome was big. I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to take it all, especially without the use of my hands. He balled my hair in his hand and gripped hard. I gasped at the sudden pain.

“Come on, princess. You know what to do.” He pulled me forwards and plunged into my open mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure.

He raked his free hand through my loose hair before clenching it in his fist. He used his grip on my head to move me up and down his shaft, prompting me to start. I swirled my tongue around him and started sucking. He hissed again through gritted teeth and pushed in further. My tongue climbed up and down his shaft, licking the sticky coating of precum from him and teasing the head. I hollowed my cheeks and bobbed up and down, letting my saliva cover him.

“Oh, yeah... Fuck, pretty girl.” He groaned in his throat and bucked his hips forwards with force.

He hit the back of my throat and I gagged. The noise seemed to please him so he did it again and again and again. My lips touched his base as he assaulted my throat, gripping tighter on my hair with each thrust. I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face and eyes begging for breath, but it just pushed him further.

He let out a primal growl and pushed my head right into the back of the seat. He held me steady and started to thrust into my face fast and hard. My throat was aching and my jaw was locking. His breath was shallow and erratic. I could tell he was close. I sucked harder for him and my throat clenched tightly.  

“Fuuuuck...” He groaned finally coming to a stop.  

I felt him throb and twitch in my mouth as his climax shot straight down my throat for me to swallow. He was still for a few seconds, then he pulled out with a pleasing pop. He looked down at me catching his breath with a smile.

“Don’t have to tell you twice, huh?” He laughed and lowered his head to kiss me.

He didn’t seem to care he’d just cum in my mouth and kissed just as rough as the first time. This time biting my lip as he pulled away. He slid his hand back up into my hair and balled it again.

“As great as that was princess, I’m still harder than Chinese algebra. So...” Jerome climbed off my lap and shoved me down onto my front.

“All fours.” He commanded.

I positioned myself on my knees and elbows, which was difficult considering my wrists were tied. I felt him roll my skirt up and part my legs. I swallowed. After having him go so rough on my mouth, I was nervous about how he was going to be with this.

“I gotta say, this is some view back here. Shame I don’t have a camera.” He said caressing my thighs.

He hooked his fingers under the band of my underwear and slid them down around my knees. I felt so exposed and my face started to heat up and turn red with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to be this vulnerable for a criminal lunatic.

He started to rub my entrance with two fingers. Warmth welling in my core, any thoughts of reservation vanished from my mind. I felt a fast, harsh sting as he brought a hand down to spank me. I gasped at the smack and he stroked the spot where it landed, where there was sure to be a red handprint.  

“Now I really wish I had a camera.” He giggled darkly.  

I squirmed at his touch and tried to close my thighs, desperate for friction, but he kept them spread by sliding his knee between them.

“Oh no, gorgeous. I need you open wide.” He smirked.

I whimpered needily, wanting nothing more than to take him inside me.

“You want something, baby girl? Speak up.” He taunted evilly, sliding his fingers along my slit. He raised his hand back up and then... another spank.

All I could do was whimper. I didn’t want to say what I wanted from him.

“I can’t hear you....” He sing-songed. “What do you want?”  

He circled a finger over my clit teasingly. He was purposefully not giving me enough. Just baiting me. He brought his hand down again for another swift spank. I was sure there was a bruise forming.

“I want you...” I whispered.

“What’s that?” He mocked, sliding his fingers in the slickness of my entrance.

“I want you! I want you to fuck me!” I snapped. I couldn’t take the teasing and taunting any longer. I just needed him.

He chuckled menacingly.

“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me?”

“Yes! Yes! God, yes!”

He laughed at my neediness. I felt pathetic.

“Sure thing, doll.”

He lined himself up so he could enter me and pushed forwards, grasping hard onto my hips. I moaned loudly as he filled me for the first time, making a low, throaty groan. He reached deep into me and set me on fire in places that I didn't even know were there.  

He kept a quick rough pace, digging his fingertips into my flesh tighter to keep me still and steady. I knew he was leaving marks, but I couldn’t have cared in the slightest in that moment. His thrusts made me whine and whimper for him, to have more of him. He growled like he was letting out some kind of inner beast.

He let go of one of my hips and slid his hand up my back and into my hair. Once he had a good fistful, he pulled it like a leash, tugging my head up and back. I gasped at the sharp pain, but the sound only seemed to feed more into his sadistic wanting and he pounded harder into me. The feel of how deep he was inside me banished all the pain and replaced it with pure pleasure and I bit down hard on my lip to stifle wanton cries. I felt another rough tug on my hair.

“Don’t you dare, little girl. Let me hear it. I wanna hear everything.” He demanded through short, quick breaths.

He pulled back on my hair again and I released a squeal of half pain and half pure elation. I could feel myself tightening around him. I was getting ready to burst.

“I... I’m...I’m gonna...” I panted.

“Oh, no you fucking don’t.”  

He gripped the back of my scalp and pulled me backwards, slamming me down onto my back and climbing on top of me.

“I wanna see it this time.”

He had acted so fast, I barely had time to register what he was doing and he was back inside me almost as soon as he had pulled out.

He buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and kissing, his teeth leaving delicious hickeys and bitemarks. When he came back up for breath, he wrapped his hand around my throat and pushed my bonded arms above my head, which I was grateful for as they were getting squashed between us. He crashed his lips onto mine for a rough kiss. His tongue demanded entrance to my mouth, which I gladly allowed.

With his other hand he caressed and stroked his hand down my thigh and under my calf. He then pulled it up and pushed it back so far it almost reached my shoulder. He adjusted himself to straddle my lower thigh and picked up a faster, harder pace. With my leg like this he was able to plunge deeper. He was forceful and powerful and I relished in every thrust. I cried out completely taken by my lust for him, closing my eyes to savour it all. I felt the sting of a slap on my cheek and flashed them back open.

“Right here, princess. Eyes right here.” He said, his voice low and raspy.  

His pupils were completely dilated, leaving only the thinnest ring of green around them. He seemed to be an apex predator that was in the midst of ravaging its prey and I was only too willing to be led to the slaughter.  

“Exciting enough for ya, sweetheart?” He smirked with a fiendish giggle.

“Uh huh...” I nodded dazedly.  

His laugh continued through the onslaught of fierce, deep thrusts pounding intensely into my lower regions. I tensed around his pulsing erection as I felt my climax creep back up on me. I let out loud erotic moans, as he built up more and more of that blissful warmth in my core.

“That’s right. Cum for me.” He grunted through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on my throat.

His pounding got faster and rougher, hitting my sweet spots exactly right. I was right on the edge of what I could tell was going to be a fantastic release. I got louder and louder as I came closer and teetered the brink.

“Yeah.. I... I’m.. Yeah... I’m gonna...”

“Go on, princess. Cum. Cum for me.”  

My orgasm shattered through me like a rock through glass. My body convulsed as my moans turned into lustful screams. The ferocity of it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The sheer ecstasy took me higher than I’d ever been before. I was on a cloud and I could have stayed there forever. Jerome followed shortly after, growling like a beast as he exploded inside me. He collapsed breathlessly on top of me as I gently floated down from that little piece of heaven.  

“Oh, baby girl. I’m keeping you!” Jerome dropped a kiss on my lips and lifted himself up.  

I came to my senses and started to register the severity of what I had done. Or had it happened to me?  

“What does that mean?” I asked, nervous of his answer.  

He pulled up his underwear and trousers and tidied himself up, even taking time to straighten his tie.

“It means, baby doll, that this is gonna be the start of a beautiful friendship.”  

He laughed his signature maniacal cackle and hopped back in the driver's seat.

“Hey! Are you gonna untie me?” I called to him starting to get very worried.

“I don’t know, doll. I kinda like you like that.” He laughed.

He turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.  

“Hold on, doll!” He cackled again, before speeding off again.

What have I gotten myself into?

#Gotham #Jerome Valeska #Jerome X Reader #horrible nasty smut #Gotham smut #Jerome Smut #Valeska smut #quite lemony #jerome x reader smut #jerome valeska smut #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska x reader smut #gotham smut

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement. 

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight. 

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said. 

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.” 

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened. 

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone. 

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers. 

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race. 

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs. 

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.” 

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”

#sorry this turned out way longer than expected #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #mark grayson #invincible fanfiction

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.  

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay ­– good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.  

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.  

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.  

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”  

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.  

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

 ——————————————————

 There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.  

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”  

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

 ——————————————————

| Part Four |

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[neonacity]

HYACINTHE | Chapter 1: Jaemin x Reader

Summary:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones.

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul's top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word.

So why, then, does he always find himself in the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

BLACK DAISIES MASTERLIST

___________________________________________________________

I've known him for almost a year and a half when it happened. 

The small bell of the cafe's back door dinged so hard, I thought it would get ripped off from the wall. I looked up, eyes wide with panic and hands still wrapped around the cold corners of a metal tray when a head of jet black hair appeared on the entrance. It took me half a second to register what I was seeing before I found myself flying to his side in a heartbeat. 

"Jaemin! Oh my god, what the hell is going on!"

My first thought was that he was injured. He was doubled over and I quickly hunched to his level so that I could peer at his face. He looked paler than usual, beads of sweat stuck on his forehead, eyes glazed with a slight look of panic as he tried to keep himself from falling over. I threw out my hands to hold him by the shoulders and that's when my gaze caught it; the small black package that he quickly tried to hide inside his bomber jacket before I could even fully see what it is. I didn't give it much attention back then—I was far too focused in trying to see if he was hurt anywhere to worry about anything else. When his gaze finally focused on me, I thought I saw guilt there.  

"I need your help. Sorry, I don't know where else to go."

My brows furrowed together. 

"What the hell is going on—"

He reached out for one of my hands helping him up and squeezed it tight. 

"Please don't ask me questions. Just—can you trust me?" 

"I don't understand—" my voice started to rise. Is he hurt? Bleeding? In pain? 

"Please."

My lips parted then pursed again. 

"Okay."

Jaemin tugged me closer to him and threw a panicked look outside. He then pulled me farther into the now closed cafe, back into the storage room, the location of which he shouldn't even know in the first place. 

"Let me hide here for a bit. Just a bit."

That encounter was my second mistake since meeting Na Jaemin. 

I should have asked questions. 

Lots of them. 

___________________________________________________________

The first mistake happened about a year and half ago. 

"Welcome to Brick and Beans, what would you like to have today?"

I plastered on my practiced smile and looked at the stranger in front of me without actually looking at him. Working in the service industry sure does things to your head once you get used to it. Despite having to deal with people all the time, you also get to develop a kind of numbness and detachment to human interaction. A face just becomes a face, a customer simply becomes just another passing responsibility. I tried to blink a few times to make myself seem more interested on the boy standing in front of my counter, patiently waiting for him to give me his order so we can go ahead and get on with both our business. 

"Uh… I'll have an iced americano. No water. Eight shots of espresso."

My lips parted and curled on the sides to give him my service smile. My hand automatically reached out for the plastic cups stacked on my side while my other whipped out the marker clipped on the pocket of my apron to scribble his order. 

"That's one iced americano, no water, eight—"

I stopped and blinked once. Twice. My gaze shot up at the customer in front of me again and really looked at him for the first time.

"I'm sorry, that's eight shots of espresso?"

He nodded, seemingly unbothered by my question. 

"No water?"

A slight shake of the head. 

"...eight shots. Of espresso."

"Eight shots, yes." 

For a moment we both just stared at each other. He was looking at me patiently, probably only slightly weirded out by my question while I gave him a look that's a mix of worry and disbelief. Working as a barista has exposed me to my own fair share of weird coffee requests, but this is by far the one that takes the cake. 

I softly cleared my throat and turned my attention back to the words I was scribbling on the cup. As strange as it is, I really am not in the position to judge a customer. 

"That'll be 4.50 dollars. Is that for here?"

"Make it to go." 

"Got it. I'll get you your order soon…"

"Jaem." 

I smiled and scribbled his name on the cup. 

Foot traffic was pretty slow on the cafe so I was able to quickly finish the order on autopilot. As I worked on mixing, I found myself humming softly to myself, my tune shifting into short whistles every time I would dunk an espresso shot down into that cup. I didn't even realize that the customer didn't bother taking a seat on one of the empty tables, opting to lean on the wall by the side instead, hands shoved in the pockets of his jogs as his eyes followed me. 

"One iced americano for Jaem," I called out and pushed the packed drink into his hand. He handed me his card and I quickly worked on swiping it. 

"You sure like your coffee explosive, huh?" I shot him a question for the sake of making small talk as I punched some buttons on my terminal. 

"It's the eight shots, isn't it?"

I answered by giving him a shrug and a smile.

"It's the first time I ever did one like it. I can only imagine how it tastes like."

His lips slightly quirked into a smile. A...really cute smile if I might add.  

"Is there anything wrong?"

"It's really good." 

"Sure, Jaem. I'm not here to judge," I gave him a wink before handing back his card and receipt. "Well, thank you for dropping by. We hope to see you here again." He took both wordlessly and slipped them on his wallet. 

I was waiting for him to walk off with his drink with the practiced polite smile plastered on my face again. He turned, coffee in hand, took about five steps, before turning to me again. I blinked in mild confusion as he placed his cup back on my counter. 

"Actually… I'll have it here." 

___________________________________________________________

"I'm not going to try your death coffee, Jaemin." 

I didn't look up from the page I was reading but I could feel it, that deadly pout and puppy eyes combo drilling onto the side of my head. I flipped a page of my textbook over and I heard a sigh come from the boy beside me. 

"I bought it for you. You said you need to finish a paper tonight."

"I do. That doesn't require me to be awake for the next week and a half," I answered back with a quirk of my lips as I finally looked up to meet his gaze. We were seated at one of the far tables of the cafe for my 15 minute break, away from the handful of customers scattered on the smattering of tables and high chairs. This has become quite a routine already… but how it started, I can't really explain.

Ever since that first order, Jaemin had made it his routine to drop by almost regularly. At first the banter started similar to how a regular customer and his favorite barista would have, but since he would always come and visit during slow hours, we would always have more time for longer conversations. Casual talk turned into light-hearted jokes, and finally into a kind of banter that comes with familiarity with each other. Slowly, I came to know the complexities of Na Jaemin, and boy, is he an enigma and a paradox rolled in one. 

You never really know what to expect with him. There are days when he would be a bursting ball of energy—most of the time when he would order his drink from hell—but there are also moments when he would be quiet and reserved. I found it odd at first, but slowly accepted it since it didn't really hurt me in the first place. In fact, if I am going to be completely honest, I find this kind of personality set working for me. Imagine gaining two friends, except they're only in one body. 

But that's not the only odd thing in our dynamic, too. If someone would ask me now to describe the kind of friendship I have with him, I wouldn't really know how to explain it. We joke together, laugh together, sometimes even tease the crap out of each other like we've known each other for years. We work well together, but at the same time… I know almost next to nothing about him. I don't know his address, who his other friends are, if he's going to school or not… hell, I don't even know what his number is. Outside of this cafe and his regular visits, I don't have anything to prove that he actually exists. He didn't share, and I also didn't ask. 

Until today.

"Fine. I'm just going to drink this then."

I gasped before shooting him a squinted glare. 

"You are going to burn a hole in your stomach, I swear to god—"

He simply shrugged and made a huge show of sipping the previously untouched tears of Lucifer. 

I reached out to tug at the hood of his jacket in an attempt to call him out when I noticed it. His hair was initially masking it at first but now I could see it in full view: a purple bruise just on the side of his eye, almost to his temple.

"Oh my god, Jaemin. What happened?" I asked in a hurry as I tried to take a closer look at it. His expression changed in a heartbeat as he realized what I saw and he quickly leaned back and pulled the hoodie again over his head. 

"That's—it's nothing." 

"It looks so bad. How did you get that?"

He didn't answer. His eyes avoided my own and his hand gripped the plastic cup between us a little bit tighter. 

"Did you get into a fight?" I pushed, gently this time. 

His gaze moved to meet mine again for a few seconds. It's obvious he was contemplating what and how to answer. 

"Yeah… I got into a bit of a tumble with some friends."

I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned back on my seat. He threw me a look that silently asked what else I want from him.

"Look. You don't tell me shit but at least I know enough to be sure you are lying."

Jaemin looked away and started tapping his finger against the table. 

"Why are you… why do you even want to know?"

I looked at him incredulously for a few seconds before leaning over. 

"Because you're my friend and I want to make sure you are okay."

"I am okay."

"Your black eye says otherwise."

"Come on, don't push this. Can't we be friends without," he waved his hand between us. "This?"

"Jaemin, I don't even know who you are."

That made him stop. He stared at me for what felt like a full half minute and that's when I saw it for the first time. The dilemma in his eyes. 

"It was because of work…" 

The look of confusion I made must have been so intense that he quickly tried to jump over it.

"Work—why, what do you—"

"I'm sorry, but that's really all that I can tell you." 

The sound of desperation in his tone wasn't lost on me. He looked so torn that I felt almost guilty for pressing.

"Fine… I won't ask again… As long as you are sure you're fine."

He peered at me once more as if assessing if he was finally off the hook. 

"So...we're still friends?"

"Huh?"

"You and me… we're still friends?"

"Uh, yes…" 

The look of relief on his face made me smile despite myself. He caught it and he made it a point to answer it with his best eye roll. 

"Don't laugh at me. I don't know how to do friends."

"You're so cute~"

"Shut up."

And that was the exact day I decided—I'm never going to let Na Jaemin feel alone again. 

Chapter 2

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