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darlingdesire · 2 months ago

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hiya love! i have a bobby request for you, if you don't mind

reader is inhaler's photographer and it's super obvious she has a massive crush on bobby. the entire crew (including him lmao dickhead) tease her for it.

one night at a bar this really hot cool rockstar girlfriend kinda girl hits on bobby and reader sees it and gets jealous. bobby makes a joke and reader gets upset thinking he's making fun of her because the other girl was obvi way cooler than her.

cue a soft little moment where he comforts her, maybe a kiss? 🥺💗

When It Breaks

(Bobby Skeetz x female!reader)

Warnings: none!!

Genre: fluff, angst (omggggg)

Word count: 6.9k wtf

Des Talks!!: okay woah. My first ever Bobby fic and I think I have outdone myself. This is one of my favourites so far and i’ve kind of ended it in a way where there could be a part 2 to this. Thank you so much for requesting this as well anon!! It was such an amazing idea and I’m so glad I get to bring it to life WOOOOOOO!!!!! I really hope this is kind of what you were hoping for 💝 (I may have gotten a little carried away oops ) also get your requests and ideas in whilst its hot 🫶

"You comin' out tonight, right?"

She turned her head at the sound of his voice, her gaze moving from the camera which she was packing away; the camera which had loads of photos of him and the band—85% of which were professional which she would have to edit later and post, and the 15% were random moments taken of him. She saw him in a different kind of light when she had the camera up to her face; she could capture him in a frozen photo and store it forever. Not the man who played bass on stage for hundreds of people, but the boy who who had managed to steal her heart and lock away. Much like a photo, captured forever.

Bobby Skeetz had no idea—well, he did... her liking to him was painfully obvious to everyone, one slip-up a few months ago for a lifetime of teasing.

"You guys going out then?" She inquired, a sweet smile appearing on her face; the once concentrated look she had as she packed her cameras away in silence was no longer there.

Inhaler had just finished playing a show. It was grand; the crowd was one of the best they have had so far, and she could tell that the guys were still at the peak of their high; adrenaline and excitement all around. She was there to see it all, she saw the intimate crowds, the boring crowds, the loud crowds; she was there to see the crowds grow bigger and bigger, her joy only expanding each time she saw the size of the venues. She had been the band's photographer for a few years now, she could pretty much say these years have been the best of her life—she could only imagine how Bobby was feeling.

He leaned against the edge of the table as she started to pack her camera away into her bag, looking down at the camera in her hand, then back up at her, her soft features bringing another sweet, boyish smile onto his face. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he was smiling because he was so amused by her or what. Probably both.

"Yeah," he answered, his Irish accent thick in his words. "I don't know about you, but I think we deserve a few drinks after that."

She looked back down at what she doing, feeling a fluttering of nerves rush up her body at the attention—she couldn't help it, she felt nervous everytime he would look at her, she wanted so desperately to know what he was thinking when he looked at her. She zipped the protective case up, sealing the camera and all the memories away for later; "It was a killer crowd, wasn't it," She muttered out, her words soft but laced with such pride, "I dunno, Bobby—I went out last night."

She couldn't help but feel satisfaction knowing he had asked her himself to join them at the pub tonight—okay, it wasn't abnormal for him to seek her out after a show and ask, most of the time it was brought up when they were in the group and she would be bugged and pestered by the guys until she had to say yes. But she enjoyed when he asked her; she wouldn't tell anyone, but she would pretend to seem tired or decline just so he could keep asking her with a pleading look on his face.

"And you don't want to go out again?" His tone was playful, trying his best to tempt her to go. He didn't know why, but it was the best part about going out after a show - he knew she always came. He could ask, and she would say yes, but it was so much sweeter to tempt her into going. "I'll buy you a drink—one of those gross fruity spritz you like or whatever that shit is."

She gave him a sarcastic pointed look at his dig on her choice of alcohol, earning a smirky grin from him. She watched the way the smile lit up his face, how it reached his eyes and caused them to close a little. Oh, how she wished she didn't pack her camera away so she could take a photo of it. She wouldn't share it with the world, no, she would keep it hidden away in her digital memory bank. Instead, she took a mental image of the sight of him leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, with his hair messy and falling over his face.

Ok, stop looking at him like a creep.

She stood up straighter, turning her body towards him now with her bag of equipment in her hand; he waited for an answer, his brows raised slightly in open hope that her answer would be yes.

"One drink," She finally complied, raising her hand with a pointed finger to set her words in stone, "and it's a pornstar martini I've been liking at the moment, thank you very much."

That boyish smirk turned into a full blown grin at her compliance, giving a soft, pleased 'tsk' noise as he stood up a little straighter, pushing himself off of the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. He could have just let her come like she always did, but it was so much better to push her into wanting to go. Plus, it was just another excuse to talk to her, be closer.

"A pornstar martini? Really? Didn't know you liked pornstars," He said with a small chuckle, his tone clearly teasing.

She rolled her eyes at him, walking towards the open door where he stood, "Yeah—love when I have a good pornstar," she played along with it, deadpanning him as she passed by him and stepped out into the hallway; her cheeks flushing red at the conversation, and she willed herself to calm down.

He watched her walk past him, his eyes following only after, a humorous and amused smile on his face at her comeback. "Thought it was only bass-players you loved," He followed, a few steps behind, his gaze falling onto the top of her head now, watching her from behind. He was taller, and the fact he was tall was quite obvious, his long legs easily catching up to her short ones.

He was glad her back was facing him now because he couldn't stop the small, amused chuckle from falling out of his mouth at her now-red cheeks.

She felt dread fill her body when she heard his comeback, her mouth went try and it felt like she had cotton in it. She swallowed nervously. He sometimes teased her about the crush she had on him; she didn't know if she preferred it if he was silent about it and never regarding her feelings for him, or if she preferred it if he was openly able to tease her about it. Either way, it felt as though he was tossing her feelings aside.

She decided to stay quiet.

She knew he was following behind her, and she couldn't help but feel as though she had a hit on her. God, please don't trip, don't you dare trip… She repeated in her mind as she walked, she hated and loved the pressure of his attention being on her; analysing her and perceiving her.

He knew she was nervous, and he could almost hear her thoughts spinning around in her head now, trying to process the situation. He felt a tad amused by the whole thing—how after a few years, she still got all awkward around him. Cute.

His gaze drifted to the way she was walking in front of him, clearly trying her hardest to walk confidently and he knew, one wrong step and she was going to trip. The thought brought a small smirk onto his face as he watched her every step, and then, that said wrong step happened.

"Oh—Fuck," She blurted out when the ugly-looking carpet stopped her shoe from letting her walk properly; the stupid kind of carpet that caused you to trip up because of the rough material. Luckily she had caught herself, and scowled down at the floor; wanting to do nothing more than stomp her foot down onto it a few times for tripping her up in front of Bobby.

She had a knack for tripping and bumping into things. It wasn't new, wasn't something Bobby had never seen before; it was another thing he teased her about. She knew it was light-hearted and that he would never shame her for being so clumsy sometimes, but she just wished she didn't look so silly sometimes.

"You're so graceful," He teased, still stood a few steps behind. There was a playful tone to the remark, along with a light chuckle at the failed attempt to stay dignified. It was clear that this was a regular occurrence as she had tripped numerous times before his eyes.

His gaze was fixated on her, watching her as she scolded the carpet, like it was the carpet's fault that she tripped when it was actually hers.

"Shut up. It was the carpets fault," She turned her head to look at him, an uncontrollable smile lifted her lips up at the humour of it. He sent her a cheeky look and finally caught up with her, using the opportunity of her stopping to finally walk beside her. They continued to walk down the hall together, and she kept on shrugging the bag strap up onto her shoulder every time it started slipping down. After the 3rd time, she felt a gentle tug on the strap and she turned her head to see that Bobby was lifting the bag off her to take.

"Here," he spoke, taking the strap from her as they walked. "I'll take it," he added as the strap was now in his hand, a warm smile taking over his face. He knew she struggled with the strap slipping off her shoulders, but he knew she would have kept on adjusting the strap until it was perfect, and even then, it would probably slip again.

He was being chivalrous—more than normal--and it was more for the fact that he wanted to be closer to her.

She pursed her lips together in a way to force the bashful grin away at his helpfulness, "Thanks."

They left the venue through the back and made their way to her tour bus; the one she had made her home for the past two years. He was in a separate one with all the other boys. Their door was always open for her, and she found herself in their bus more than she was in hers. Their dynamics were perfect; she considered Inhaler her close friends more than she was their photographer. After all, they were all eachother had out on the road.

Bobby set her equipment down on her bunk, not missing the chance to send her a look at the way she left her bed messy. She had rolled her eyes at him, saying; "I'd like to see your bed then, Skeetz," her words seeming more innocent in her head than how they sounded when she said them out loud.

"Yeah, you'd like to see that, wouldn't ya'," He muttered with a smirk; not missing a chance to tease her again.

Her innocent words weren't innocent at all. His mind —and he is almost certain hers (but she would never admit it)—immediately went to somewhere else at the words, the thought of his own messy, unmade bed crossing his mind for a spilt second. "and, by the way, my bed is actually made," he responded quickly with a raise of his brows, his gaze flickering to her unmade bed for a moment before turning back to her; he was telling the truth, his bed was made. Neatly. He was waking up in a good mood these past few months—some could say he was waking up on the right side of the bed.

A newfound optimistic feeling had found him, and he loved it; he was excited when he got up in the mornings (ever since he found out his little photographer fancied him, but he wasn't going to admit that)

She gave him a look as she closed the curtain, separating the two of them from the sight of her messy bed, "yeah, yeah," she muttered and turned on her heel away from him, leading them out of the bunk area and back into the main area toward the open door.

Jack, the social media guy who had joined the tour a while ago stepped into the bus; his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. He said a quick hello, his smile sweet as he placed a warm hand on her shoulder as he walked by the two of them. She had become friends with Jack, he was a good guy and the band liked him. (but she never caught on to the looks Bobby gave Jack everytime he would see her with him.)

His gaze immediately narrowed as he watched Jack place a hand on her shoulder; the sight didn't leave him with a good feeling. He could've sworn his eyes burned into the back of Jack's head as he walked right by them and out of the bus.

A strange, bitter feeling swirled around inside his chest and then his mind immediately went to an unreasonable place—he wasn't exactly sure why he was always so territorial, especially now.

He followed her out of the bus, not paying any mind to extend the invitation out to Jack. He secretly wanted her to himself tonight, as friends, of course....

They clambered into the car with the rest of the waiting guys—who had just finished meeting fans out back and taking pictures with them—they were still in the clothes they were wearing on stage, too eager and excited to get to the pub with everyone for a round of drinks.

Bobby sat next to her, of course. The two of them were in the very back of the 7-seater car as the rest of the guys were in the middle with the 3 seats.

The car was immediately filled with conversation, and they started heading toward the pub that was suggested by a local fan.

She had no trouble involving herself into their conversation, it was rather easy actually since she felt more than comfortable around them.

Bobby sat in silence for most of the ride to the pub, only joining in on the conversation now and then. His mind was somewhere else, mostly, and a couple times, his gaze was on her, just watching her. Watching the way she interacted with the others, listening to every single word that came out of her mouth.

He drew on the foggy window, looking over at her once he had finished the little drawing. A smirk stretched out on his face as he pointed it out to her, "It's you," he said with a nod, proud of his little drawing.

She looked at his drawings in the window, her heart almost exploding out of her chest at the fact he made a little stick figure of her in the window.

"Oh wow," She grinned uncontrollably, a little act seemed so big in her mind and she kept repeating how it was probably nothing and that she was just thinking too much into it, "You captured me perfectly."

His smirk grew into a full blown, amused smile as she gawked over his little drawing in the window. She was so easy to read.

He looked back at the window, his attention now diverted on creating another stick figure next to the one of her, "I know I did, I'm good like that," he responded jokingly, a small chuckle leaving his mouth.

They finally reached the pub and they all started clambering out of the big car; she found it amusing watching four grown men try and climb out the car whilst trying to be graceful and not bang their heads against the roof. She made sure to get a photo of Bobby with his window drawings; he had posed for it with a his thumb up and big goofy smile as he carefully leaned his head next to the window, not wanting to rub his hair against the condensation and ruin his drawings.

They made their way into the dimly-lit pub and found an available curved booth to sit at with their drinks. Josh was sat next to her, and they browsed the drinks menu together. It was more like a bar they were at, but whatever it was it was nice and underground; relatively busy too.

Elijah was on her other side, and Bobby was sitting next to him. Ryan had gone straight to use the bathroom, as he had been complaining most of the drive about it.

The pub was lively, filled to the brim with people, but the music was at the right decibel to allow a normal conversation, and that's exactly what the group was doing.

Bobby leaned back against the booth, arms draped along the back of it, listening to the conversations going on around him. His gaze eventually flickered over to her. He could hear her laughing with Josh as the two of them picked out drinks. He felt a small tug pull at his chest, but he ignored it.

Just then, Ryan arrived back at the table, taking his seat, "I took longer in the bathroom so I wouldn't have to wait for drinks to get here," He joked, rolling his eyes as he sat down next to Josh.

"You sure that was the reason?" Bobby teased, smirking at his words and earning a mock laugh from Josh who then reached over the table at him and whilst pretending to claim he didn't wash his hands; causing Bobby to lean back and let out a groan in disgust.

"Ya' filthy, Ryan," He told him and got up out of the booth, looking over at everyone; his eyes landing right on hers, "you're coming with me. Promised I'd get you a drink, didn't I."

She was in a conversation with Elijah—a conversation about who knows what—she had completely lost her train of thought as soon as she noticed him getting up. She looked over at him, locking gazes as he gestured over to her.

A small feeling of nervousness filled her chest as she knew what was coming, and she tried her best to push it away. It was just a drink.

"Oh, yeah," She spoke, smiling at Bobby before turning to Elijah, "back in a sec."

She had to go past Elijah to get out, lucky that there was a decent gap between the table and the booth seats as she carefully stepped out of it.

"You all want a Guinness, yes?" She turned her head to look at the guys, earning some yes' and grateful nods in response.

Bobby waited for her to make the move to the bar, and the two of them went over together; waiting patiently to be served. She took the time to scan the pub/bar/whatever it was, taking in the comfortable scenery. It was very cool. The place had exposed brick walls and had old antiques littered around on display—a nice mix of old and new.

A bartender came up to the two of them not long after and Bobby took the lead in ordering drinks for everyone. Her eyes landed on a small group of women by a table, they were dressed beautifully—one girl in particular caught her eye though, and it seemed as though hers had caught Bobby. She was looking over at him with an interested gaze—a curious one, one that had y/n turning around toward the bar where their drinks were being made. Her back now toward the group so she wouldn't have to see the look that one girl was giving him.

She turned her head to look up at Bobby, seeing how he didn't even pay any mind to the girls who were ogling him. He was simply watching the bartender, tapping his fingers against the wooden bar mindlessly. He looked down at her when he felt her gaze in him, and he sent her a small, instinctive smile before looking back at the bartender.

She suddenly felt like a deflated balloon; insecurity washing over her and diminishing her high.

She was used to girls checking Bobby out, and she had no right to feel insecure or jealous. She was just like all the other girls who had a silly little crush on him. It wouldn't lead anywhere.

He would notice her looking at him and not pay any mind to it; maybe he was only teasing her about it in order to push it away, because he had to so it wouldn't be weird between them.

"You good?" She heard him ask, she had been staring down at the wooden bar for a few seconds with a distant look; and he had noticed.

She put on a smile and lifted her head to reach his eyes, "Yeah, m' grand," she told him cheerily; though the feeling in her mind said otherwise, hopefully he wouldn't notice that and see through her lies.

"You should try a different drink one day; a Guiness must get boring after a while," She said, trying to alter the conversation.

He chuckled in response at her comment, a small smirk forming on his face now, "Guiness never gets boring, love," he replied, his gaze flickering over down to her.

He could sense a change in her mood, noticing how lost in thought she had been.

The drinks were finally made and they made their way to take them back to the booth where the guys were waiting. She couldn't help but take a quick peek at the group of girls to see that that one girl was still watching Bobby.

She swallowed hard, trying to push down the feelings as she and Bobby got to the booth. A few more people from the crew had joined the booth and were chatting away with everyone. Jack was there. He had patted the open space next to him and budged over a little bit, there was only space left for and she put the drinks down on the table before sittinf down next to him. Bobby watched as he found himself next to Ryan, his eyes lingering on Jack and y/n in front of him.

A bitter feeling settled in his chest he watched her sit next to Jack. He didn't know why, but it always bothered him when she talked to him, or sat next to him, or just spent time with him.

He took the last empty seat next to Ryan, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. The group went on with their conversations, but he found himself tuning out. His eyes always found their way back to her. His gaze lingered on her for a while before she looked up, meeting it. He quickly averted his eyes, focusing on the glass in his hand instead.

They kept sharing looks, their eyes catching one another every now and then as they listened to people talk, or when one of them was talking and looked at the other—as if they were speaking to just eachother. After the drinks were all finished, Ryan went to go get another round for everyone and forced Bobby to go with him for an extra pair of hands.

Y/n was content in her conversation with Josh and Elijah, talking about stuff they're going to do with their day off tomorrow. They were going to explore the city they were in, and she was going to join them and take photos. She was always welcome to join the band on their little outings, they used the fact that she needed to get content as an excuse to get her to spend time with them. It was cute.

After a while of feeling Bobby's absence, she turned her head to the bar where him and Ryan were still by. Except, Ryan was on his way back with a handful of drinks without Bobby. She glanced over Ryan's shoulder to see where Bobby was; he was still there, but he was with somebody else. The girl from the group.

She had managed to get her way over to Bobby and actually strike conversation with him. They seemed to be hitting it off well too, the girl was stood close to him with a flirty smile. Bobby was more than happy to talk to her.

Y/n couldn't help but trace her eyes over the girl; taking in the way she held herself, so confident and alluring. The girl was dressed in red and black and had a charm about her.

She sunk in her seat and looked away from them; feeling all sorts of ways. Insecure, jealous. All these feelings that she—again—had no right to feel. She was silly to compare herself to the girl, but she still couldn't stop it from happening.

She raised her glass to her lips, taking a sip of her pornstar martini—suddenly wishing she had something stronger.

"You're not very subtle with your staring," Ryan told her in a quieter voice than normal, he was relaxed back into his seat with his arms crossed lazily over his chest and a knowing look on his face.

She looked at him with wide eyes at his straight-forwardness, and glanced around at the other people in the seats to make sure they didn't hear Ryan.

"I was looking at the bottles. God, forbid a girl wants to look at the products," She told him, motioning her head to the bottles of alcohol on display behind the bar, clearly lying—which he could see through.

She was so obvious with her staring, her jealousy, her pining. It was written all over her face, and Ryan could see it from a mile away.

He rolled his eyes at her failed attempt at an excuse, sighing as he leaned closer to her, "No, you were staring at Bobby."

She gave him a blank look, rolling up one of the napkins into a tiny ball and threw it at him as a lame attempt to get him to shut up. She knew her cheeks were flushing red, she could feel the heat and the shy-ness flooding through her.

"I hope you choke on your chips," She said to him, glancing down at his bowl of hot chips.

He chuckled in response, swatting the napkin out of the way, "yeah, yeah, yeah."

He knew he had gotten to her now, and there was no turning back for him. It was too entertaining to tease her, and knowing how she felt about Bobby made it even more amusing to poke at her.

He raised an eyebrow at her, a sly smirk on his face, "Why don't you go over there and tell that girl to back off?"

Y/n's face fell, deadpanning him again with a blank expression, "Oh, yeah," She nodded slowly, musing his stupid suggestion, "No."

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself, "Why not? You'd rather sit here and mope in jealousy?"

She scowled at him and leaned forward in her seat, finally reacting quick to shut his false (clearly right) assumptions down, "I'm not jealous—" she began to fire out.

"What is she jealous of?" Bobby's voice suddenly cut her off, he had somehow weaselled his way over without her noticing and set the rest of the drinks down on the table; glancing between Ryan and Y/n for an answer.

"Nothing," She quickly said, sinking back into her seat and giving Ryan a warning look as Bobby sat down next to him.

Ryan smirked, he could see it right through her, and he knew that he couldn't keep his mouth shut in this situation; he had the right reasons, (he was sick and tired of watching y/n pine over Bobby without doing anything about it—right reasons, wrong method of execution)

"She's jealous of the girl you were talking to at the bar," he bluntly informed Bobby, his gaze drifting to Y/n to find her shooting daggers at him. Her cheeks were even more red now.

Bobby's brows raised at the information, and he looked at her reddening face with a growing smirk; and she prepared herself for his response. She wanted to smack Ryan across the head—she was completely over the teasing. It was fun and fine at first, but after a while it just started hurting. Her feelings were being laughed at and mocked, and if he didn't like the fact that she fancied him then he could just tell her instead of teasing her about it.

"You know you're the only girl for me, love. No need for jealousy," He said to y/n with a smirk—teasing her, yet again...

Ryan rolled his eyes at the interaction, feeling amused by the whole thing. He was tempted to smack him and her upside the head for being so unbelievably stupid for not noticing the obvious fact that Bobby just couldn't get the hint—the hint to do something about it. Ryan wasn't dumb, he could sense the feelings Bobby had for y/n. He had just hoped that by now, the blonde-headed idiot would swallow his fears down and ask the damn girl out.

Y/n huffed, feeling flustered at the words and his teasing, "Don't call me love," She spoke to him, her tone annoyed yet light in mockery as she rose from her seat.

The two guys watched as she snatched her small bag off the table in haste and started walking away from everyone, toward the exit.

"Nice going, idiot," Ryan was the first to say something, looking at his friend with a roll of his eyes.

"What?! You're the idiot, idiot," Bobby exclaimed, completely baffled at the response. Ryan was the one who initiated the entire thing.

"No—You're the idiot," Ryan scoffed, shaking his head. "She's a complete goner for you, and you're too much of a pussy to do anything about it," He angled his body toward his friend, speaking lowly so that the other guys at the table wouldn't hear, "You either tell her you're not interested—which you are, I can tell—and drop the whole thing, or you tell her you want her as much as she wants you," Ryan explained, holding his finger up and pointing it at him to assert his point.

He saw the moment Bobby's face changed from confusion to a more softer one. His eyes were casted down onto the table, clearly thinking about the whole situation in his head. He felt awful.

He was stunned into silence for a few moments as he thought on Ryan's words.

He stared at the table, his mind deep in thought, almost to the point where he forgot that people were still around them. He didn't want to face any facts. He knew he had feelings for her, he knew that—but why was Ryan making it sound easier than it really was.

Bobby shook his head slowly, lifting his gaze back up to Ryan; words tumbling out of him, "It's not that simple, mate," he protested, "Have you thought about what would happen if things ended badly? Don't forget she's our photographer."

Ryan scoffed, his disbelief at the statement growing. "Mate, she's also the one person that can put up with your stupid arse," he reminded him, his tone now firm and annoyed, as he leaned forward in his seat, "You're telling me that you'd rather keep all the stupid feelings bottled away in that thick skull of yours, not make a move, and then miss the opportunity to have her?"

Bobby side-eyed Ryan for the insult, and then let out a deep sigh; saying nothing as he straightened up in his seat and looked toward the exit. Maybe he should man up and go out there—but he felt like such a fool. What would she even say? He used humour to help in situations, and so of course he did the same for this one. Maybe he dug himself too deep. All the months worth of making fun of her for her crush on him were coming back to bite him in the arse.

"Okay," He muttered quietly to himself more than to Ryan, shifting a little as he climbed out of the booth and began to head toward to exit.

He paid no attention to the girl from the bar as he walked by her table—even so, she didn't even make a move on him whilst they were talking. It was friendly chatting, and so when he came back to the table to find out y/n was jealous—you could say he was over the moon and handled it in a shitty way.

Meanwhile, y/n had found herself stood on the sidewalk outside of the bar. Not too far away, but just enough distance to be able to clear her head and think things through. She was overthinking what just happened, she went over it so many times in her head and deemed her actions dramatic and childish. Maybe she should have been the one to tell him and everyone she didn't like it when they teased her about her crush; but a slither of her enjoyed it because it was some sort of acknowledgment of it on Bobby's side.

She was in her own little world, mindlessly looking at the array of random posters on the wall when in the corner of her eye; Bobby showed up next to her.

She must have been deep in thought as she failed to notice his presence right away, so he stood next to her in silence as he watched her and studied her every move. He saw her looking at the walls, admiring the art that covered them, before his gaze fell to the ground, and his thoughts started to swirl around in his head.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. He wasn't supposed to feel like this, he was supposed to be just like any other boy that got the girl, and yet here he was—acting like a love-struck teen and struggling to get the right words out.

"I'm sorry," He finally spoke up, not knowing what to say. He had gone over it in his head during his quick walk to find her, he had made a defend script in his head but it all suddenly went out the window when he was finally next to her.

His voice startled her at first, causing her to flinch for a split second, before she turned her head to look at him. He looked nervous. She could see it in his eyes and the way he looked away from her.

She didn't know how to respond straight away; she felt her words stuck in her throat as she stared at him for a long moment before opening her mouth, "What are you apologising for..?"

"For being stupid," He said, his eyes flickered back and forth between the two of hers. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jackets, feeling his mouth dry as a bundle of nerves ran through him. He took a step closer, and she angled her body towards his at the closer proximity; no longer looking at the art work on the wall.

"I just... I really really like you, y/n," He continued, emphasising the 'really' with a furrow of his brows; but his words must have reached her ears differently and her concept of them sounded like he was about to friend zone her.

She nodded, turning her head to look away from him and back toward the wall, "...As a friend," she finished the rest of his sentence, feeling the knot of sadness form in her throat. Don't cry, don't cry, stupid don't cry you're not 14.

"No, no," Bobby quickly exclaimed as she had misheard him. He reached out with one of his hands, gently taking hold of her chin to guide it back to look at him, "No, not as a friend—as more than that."

He saw her face soften at his clarification, and he allowed a small smile to form on his face as she took in his words, her eyes fixed on him. She looked so pretty.

"What?" She asked in utter confusion, his words were a mind bog—after months of him making fun of her and teasing her for her crush on him, he goes and tells her he feels the same way. Doubt crosses her mind, even though he is smiling so sweetly at her, "Look, I don't know if this is just another joke to make fun of me or if you're saying that because you feel bad. You're confusing me, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head, his heart clenching in his chest as he saw doubt and skepticism in her eyes. She didn't believe him. "No, no, no," he muttered, cupping her face in both his hands, keeping her gaze on him.

"I promise I'm not playing with you, I'm not messing with you. I'm telling you the truth," He looked into her eyes, not looking away for even one second as his thumbs slowly started to trace her features; his touch feather-like.

She almost melted at his touch, but she still couldn't wrap her head around the whole ordeal. They say women were confusing, but maybe it was actually men who were more confusing.

"Then they would you tease me about it for months. I don't understand why. Why did it take you this long to tell me," She asked him, frowning even more as she searched his eyes for the truth.

He sighed, letting go of her face with both hands as he ran one through his hair, "I don't know, I guess I was too scared. Because this is a big deal," he explained, a hint of a nervous laugh escaping his mouth as he pushed his hands back into his pocket.

"You're our photographer. I didn't want to face it and have things be awkward if it never worked out between us and you had to end up quitting because of it," he explained, his gaze shifting all over the place as he tried to keep calm, "I like you too much—I like having you around with the guys, I like having you with me."

"I wouldn't quit because of that," she responded to his words with a scoff and a roll of her eyes, acting as if it was a ridiculous idea.

"So... what are we gonna do?" her voice was softer now, her shoulders slumping slightly as her eyes lifted to find his again.

"I guess that depends on what you want us to be," He responded with a shrug, and he leaned in closer toward her, his voice grew quieter; "Because I know exactly what I want to be."

Her breath stopped in her throat when she noticed he was leaning in closer, and suddenly; everything in the world stilled as she gazed into his eyes. "Bobby..." She breathed out quietly, she didn't know if it was a question, a statement, or whatever... its all she managed to mutter out.

She looked so beautiful in this second. His mind went blank as he got lost in her eyes, the way her lips moved when she said his name was addicting.

He lifted his hand up from his pocket again, gently brushing a lose strand of her hair, "Can I kiss you?" He whispered ever so sweetly.

Shock waves flooded her entire system at his words, not knowing if she imagined that he said that or if she misheard him. She didn't know what would happen between them after this, she didn't know if it would develop into a relationship, but all she knew was that something would completely change between them if their lips connected.

But right now she didn't care if tomorrow they didn't speak to eachother at all, she didn't care if it was awkward between them when the euphoria of the moment died down and was replaced by something more serious.

After a beat, she nodded her head ever so softly and muttered out a simple; "Kiss me."

Bobby didn't hesitate. He closed the distance between them and softly connected their lips together. He cupped her cheeks in both his hands, holding her in place as he kissed her with a gentleness that made her heart beat a little faster. His lips were perfectly fitting over her bottom lip, and he almost smiled against the kiss from how utterly perfect it felt to kiss her.

It was so soft, so gentle. He held her delicately, and treated the kiss like it was such a fragile thing as if it would break if he handled it wrong.

Maybe it was the alcohol flooding through their systems that made them kiss without thinking it through. They would have to talk about it tomorrow at some point when the alcoholic haze wore of and reality settled in. And what scared them the most was not knowing if this kiss would make or break them.

#imagines #romance #fanfiction #bobby skeetz x reader #Bobby skeetz imagine #elijah hewson x reader #request #fluff #angst #pining #Robert Keating x reader #Robert Keating imagine

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not-the-living-ghost · 3 months ago

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DBDA Fic Recommendation List - Part 1

I have read SO many Dead Boy Detectives fics, so why not give some love to some of my favorites? (Fair warning: almost all of these are Payneland centered, and most of it is hurt/comfort and fluff)

The Case of the Hellbound Souls by JUBE514 (@jube514) Rated: T 21,890 words Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives take up a case that results in Edwin losing his memories, and they must band together to get his memories back Notes: I'm a sucker for a good memory loss fic, and I love the way that this one executes the angst of a typical memory loss fic whilst making it heartstoppingly sweet.

a map of your stars by pisces_spider (@pisces-swirlix) Rated: T 19,181 words Summary: 5+1 fic where Charles draws Edwin's different features Notes: I love the way that this one portrays Charles and Edwin's dynamic. They don't shy from writing Edwin as a smartass or mildly pretentious, and Charles' short attention span is definitely prominent in this fic. And yet, it all blends together perfectly in this fic, with their mutual fondness for each other still shining beyond anything else — in perfect Payneland fashion

Tonight's the Night You Fight Your Best Mate's Dad by Opossum_Subatomic Rated: T 22,279 words Summary: 5+1 coffee fic Notes: This fic perfectly captures the "no homo," "and they were roommates" vibes of Charles and Edwin's relationship. This fic truly had me stopping every 5 minutes to smile, shake my head, and think "this is so them."

Reach Out And Touch Faith by coloursflyaway (@coloursflyaway) Rated: T 7,482 words Summary: After his confession, in order to avoid crossing any boundaries, Edwin stops being as physically intimate with Charles as he used to be — and Charles has Feelings about it (basically Charles being touch starved for 7k words!!). Notes: THIS the fic. This is the fic that got me into fanfiction, and oh my God, I am forever grateful I was recommended this fic back in June

Brothers In Arms by Stringsofstars Rated: T 40,538 words Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives solve a case helping Gregory Payne — Edwin's late brother — pass on, as he is tethered to the land of his death. Notes: Very interesting OCs and it does a great job delving into Edwin's family life. I admittedly know very little about the Edwardian era, but it all felt very well researched

Don't Die of Ignorance by dearheartdont (@dearheartdont) Rated: M 559 words Summary: A snapshot of what Charles' life was like in the 80s, specifically during the AIDS crisis with a homophobic father Notes: I am always a sucker for fics that do a bit of a deeper dive into what Charles' childhood was like — especially as a bisexual teenager growing up during the AIDS crisis — and this fic does exactly that

Cry With Joy At The Depth Of My Love by coloursflyaway (@coloursflyaway) Rated: T 18,028 words Summary: Edwin takes the Cat King up on his offer and goes missing for 6 weeks. Charles has Feelings about it. Notes: This fic has so much angst, and I absolutely live for Charles Rowland angst — and God, is it worth it for the fluff at the end

Edwin Payne's First Solo Case by T4Tsangho Rated: G 566 words Summary: Edwin Payne shoots Donald trump. Need I say more? Notes: This fic is fucking hilarious and everybody needs to read this

When I Picture You by Gruoch (@madamedevil). Rated: M 69,935 words (not yet finished) Summary: Season 1 AU where the Cat King takes Charles instead of Edwin, and Charles realizes that he's in love first Notes: It is a perfect mix of everything: Charles angst (so much Charles angst), unresolved Payneland tension, Niko and Edwin being besties, Crystal and Edwin annoying the crap out of each other, Charles being jealous of Monty, it's all just truly perfect

The Case of David Bowie's Made up Sexuality by williamvapespeare (@williamvapespeare) Rated: T 14,154 words (not yet finished) Summary: The agency takes up a new case that brings up unresolved feelings Notes: Charles is SO bisexual in this fic and I love him for it

we get to stay around and watch the stars come out by laiqualaurelote (@laiqualaurelote) Rated: M 2,117 words (not yet finished) Summary: Black Doves alive AU, where Crystal and Charles are married. Secrets about Crystal's lives are unearthed as they go on the run with Edwin, an assassin and Crystal's former best friend Notes: I haven't even watched Black Doves, and I am still 110% invested in this fic

"Who? You mean your teammate in the Codependency World Cup?" - Pre canon series by @roseganymede95

Like Fool's Gold Rated: T 27,727 words Summary: Charles gets consumed by magic mushroom spores and Edwin teams up with John Constantine to save him Notes: I love the way the author writes John Constantine, and his relationship with Edwin is incredibly charming

Hold This Rated: M 26,194 words Summary: Edwin and Charles are trapped in an evil wizard's dungeon, and they must figure out how to escape Notes: I cannot stress this enough, Charles is so Charles in this fic. Like my oh God

Mom Says It's My Turn To Jump On The Grenade Rated: T 47,631 words Summary: During the early days of the Dead Boy Detectives agency, Edwin tries to get Charles to leave him and pass on to his afterlife Notes: Codependent Payneland my loves <33

Professional Networking Rated: G 14,596 words Summary: Charles and Edwin are introduced to Johanna Constantine via John Constantine Notes: If John Constantine's relationship with Edwin is charming, the boys' relationship with Johanna is doubly so

Like We're Gonna Die Young (Again) by RoseGanymede95 Rated: M 74,556 words (not yet finished) Summary: Edwin and Charles make a deal with a fairy and end up at a party having lost the memory of their deaths. Notes: This fic has a very interesting depiction of what Charles' life might've been like before his death, and it's honestly probably my favorite DBDA fic. Plus, one of the OCs in this story has genuinely become one of my blorbos; I am kind of obsessed with him, actually

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 1 year ago

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The Blackwood Knight prt.5

Description: In which Benjicot wishes to inspire his Lady's confidence in his love.

Playlist:

Once Upon a Dream~ Lana Del Rey

Steal My Girl~ One Direction

Call It What You Want~ Taylor Swift

Warnings: female reader. Nothing else I don't think. Just pure fluff.

Y/N tripped towards the Brackentree the next day in high spirits, her heart soaring at the confirmation that her love for her Blackwood knight was requited, turning over in mind the events of the previous afternoon and the memory of Benjicot’s smile as he kissed her hand at the border of the Bracken lands when they parted.

Buoyed by a newfound confidence, the source of which, she could only locate in the weeks she had spent in Benjicot’s company, she was surprised to see the glint of his sword leaning against their empty tree. Confused at the absence of the knight, where his sword was, she placed her hand on the trunk of the tree and began to look around it for signs of when he might have been there. As she leaned around the tree, a hand took hold of her own on the tree trunk and placed something around her finger. Startled, she turned rapidly to see the amused, yet soft smile of Benjicot, still holding her hand in his.

Smiling indulgently at him, she looked down at her hand in his to see a burnished gold band, encrusted with a deep garnet gem, sparkling on the second finger of her left hand.

Seeing Y/N’s quizzical expression, he pulled her hand gently towards him, raising it to wrap her arm around his neck, before reaching out with his other arm to encircle her waist, closing the distance between them.

“Do you like it?” he asked with a reverential tone.

“It’s beautiful, but why are you giving it to me?”

Chuckling indulgently and lightly pinching her cheek, he opened his palm to hold her face before responding.

“Unless you are planning on lancing me through the heart by renegading on your promise to marry me yesterday, I had hoped that the future Lady Blackwood would like to possess an heirloom of the House she is soon to belong to.”

Looking once again in wonder at the gem on her finger, she looked up at Benjicot with an expression of complete joy, surprising him by reaching up with both hands to encircle his neck in an embrace that lifted her off the ground, as he delightedly caught her and spun her in a circle, increasing speed as she began to laugh.

Reluctantly returning her to the ground, he continued to hold her in her embrace, both arms enclosed around her lower back, as he gaze down at the light of his life.

“If I had known that I would be rewarded with such a response to a small trinket I would have sacked my ancestral halls long before now and demanded you take your pick.”

Laughing at this and swatting at his chest, Y/N beamed up at him.

“It feels as if it is real now. That you really do love me and wish for me to be your lady.”

His face falling slightly at this, he pulled her closer towards his chest, trying to get as close to her as possible.

“It is real. I do love you. I do wish for you to be my lady, most desperately. So much so that I should be most put out if you backed out now,” he returned in a tone that made it sound like a sally, but held a depth of love and a fear that she may be retracting her earlier acquiescence to his proposal.

Smiling softly up at him, and grasping his hand in her now bejewelled hand, she assured him, “I won’t change my mind.”

“I am relieved to hear it” he returned, in a voice that held no mirth in it, his sigh giving away his genuine contentment at her assurance that he was not, in fact, to be lanced through the heart.

Lightening his tone, he continued, “it is of course a relief to be told that I am still for this world.”

“You’re so dramatic, Benji!” she laughed again, swatting at him again, as he sought to conceal from his expression how endearing he found these light touches, so indicative of them were they of her growing confidence in his love. He could also not deny that the lack of force she put into them was very sweet and only serve to strengthen his desire to protect such gentleness.

“Is that so?” he jested, “my lady does not care for my wellbeing then,” he sighed dramatically, turning from her, as if in high sorrow.

“She does not then love me as I love her. Alas, what misery, I shall go forwith and put myself to the sword.”

Grabbing his arm, Y/N looked up at Benji with fear in her eyes, and it was all he could do not to either laugh or kiss her, so concerned did she look by his blatant antics.

Continuing the charade, he moved away from her, with great reluctance.

“Life has lost all meaning for me now, there is nothing to be done. I must depart from it.” He sighed again, with great drama.

Continuing to stride away from her, he began to count in his head, secretly hoping she would stop him, so that he could again take her in his arms and end the game, little expecting her to grab him so abruptly, causing them both to lose their footing.

Turning himself quickly and wrapping his arms around her waist so that he landed on the ground, cushioning her fall onto his chest, he quickly lifted his head to check on her condition.

Raising them both so that he could hold her head and examine her face, checking for any sign of tears or distress that might reveal she had hurt herself, he was relieved to see that she looked confused, but unharmed. That was, before she fixed him with a glare and pushed herself up, away from him.

“You were jesting the whole time, you rogue.”

Pushing himself up with a laugh, he returned, “that may be so, but I cannot be sorry for it, when you so sweetly came to defend my life and then rewarded me by falling into my arms once again.”

Secretly rejoicing at the pink blush rising in her cheeks, he winked at her before leaning towards her to place a chaste kiss on her brow.

Hovering over the place in which he had planted a kiss, conveying all the reverence and admiration he held for her into it, he spoke lowly, and earnestly.

“I do mean what I say, even when I jest with you. It’s essential to me that you love me…that you will let me love you. That you will consent to be mine, as I am most undoubtedly yours.”

At this, he then continued to place small, reverential kisses onto both of her cheeks, both sides of her jaw, and finally on her lips, cupping her face as he did so.

The golden light of the sun cast it’s rays onto the sight of a knight and his lady, lying in a meadow, her head on his chest, as they continued to plan their lives together.

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @drwho-ess

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #benjicot blackwood #aeron bracken #davos blackwood #aeron bracken x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #house blackwood #benjicot blackwood imagine #benjicot blackwood series

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esprei · 1 year ago

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Can we know more about that dystopia Emmet of yours?

dystopian!Emmet... my sad little meow meow... my favorite AU Emmet. my pride and joy. he's certainly the most tragic emmet of mine... why? well. his life was torn apart in childhood thanks to Emperor Volo (as a reminder or for those unfamiliar, Emperor Volo is a version of PLA Volo that won at the Temple of Sinnoh and was able to carry out his plan of remaking the world as he saw fit. and subsequently went mad with power. hence where we end up in this AU, where he's built a wonderful, beautiful city in Upper Unova... while Lower Unova is left to the dogs... Houndours...? Herdiers...? either way, Lower Unova suffers while Upper Unova prospers).

his family killed by the Emperor's army, he was left in the home all alone, hiding and terrified but luckily undetected until the leader of the Resistance, Alder, takes him under his wing and essentially becomes his adoptive father. under Alder's leadership, Emmet learns how to fight, how to survive. he becomes hardened by such a rough and tragic turn in his life that by the time he grows up, he's become serious, stern and scrappy. wary and skeptical. while he still IS Emmet, while he still has a smile, it's a more... serious smile. a tighter smile. definitely not as happy of a smile. aside from that, he has his own workshop where he'll make weapons for the Resistance (aka the banded together group of folks seeking to take Emperor Volo down for his tyranny, they battle with the Emperor's army quite a bit), or repair parts for the trains that he works on that help transport supplies that other members have snatched from the upper city or just transport in general. he's also a fan of woodworking! does that often, too :D when he's really upset he'll lock himself away in his workshop and work, work, work away, sometimes just welding or carving away aimlessly (though not reaaally aimless because he ends up making something in the end). bonus little thing of him working in said workshop (btw that's probably Skyla calling his name, she drops off supplies for him that he needs):

that's quite a bit to read so I'll stop there :D i just wanna say thank you so so much for your interest in him! this emmet really is dear to my heart and i love talking about him (and sorry this answer is so late!)

#submas #subway boss emmet #subway boss kudari #submas au #dystopian!emmet #my art #anonymous #asks #he definitely has huge character growth throughout the story #or at least i try to make it that way sdfklj

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nathanbatemanfucker · 1 year ago

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Sprinkles

about this: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARC SPECTOR (aka the love of my life). gn!reader. contents: a birthday fic, illusions to abuse/mental health issues, canon typical mentions of DID, internal angst, fluff, kissing. wc: 738. not beta’d.

moonknight masterlist

Marc wakes to the smell of something distinctly sweet, though he isn’t sure what it is. He is hit with that deep sadness that has rooted itself inside of him since he was just a little boy. Another year has passed— he’s made another trip around the sun. Another year to remember and forget, to fight his demons, to look in the mirror and be nothing but a grim reminder of his broken family.

But, then he hears a familiar tune, a whistle floating through the air that makes him feel light. Your whistle. A new reminder that he has a new family. That in some ways he created a new family within himself, one that you readily accept.

He turns to bury himself in your pillow, smothering the goofy grin on his face. He’s still growing used to this feeling, of being happily and safely in love.

There is the patter of your feet, the chatter of dishes, the sound of a tea kettle. When he finally sits up, there’s a card with his name scrawled across it on his bedside table, along with a small heart-shaped box of chocolates.

He laughs as he reads the card, though your sentiment is sweet and means a lot to him, given his tumultuous childhood with little joy.

For the man who has a sweet tooth that rivals a 7-year-old. You deserve every confection on this earth— none are sweeter than you. All my love.

Marc tucks the card into his drawer, along with a few other things you’ve gotten him, a watch from his father, and his old wedding band. Things with meaning. He picks up the box of chocolates and heads out to the kitchen where he knows he’ll be met with the happiest sight on earth— you.

“Mornin’,” He calls out to you, his voice still rough from sleep.

You whirl around, fixing him with a smile so wide and genuine it makes his cheeks warm. “Good morning, lovey. Sit sit, it’s almost done,” You gesture to the kitchen table.

Marc sits as instructed, watching patiently as you start to get everything ready. You set down in front of him: coffee that he knows will be perfectly made, two different stacks of what both seem to be funfetti pancakes, extra sprinkles, whipped cream, and syrup.

“Did you know that most funfetti pancake recipes don’t call for any actual funfetti cake batter? Seems fraudulent don’t you think?” You ask as you fix a plate for yourself and sit beside him.

He hums in agreement. “Hence the two different kinds?”

“Well I wanted to see which you liked better, a traditional recipe or mine,” You reason, stabbing a candle into both of his stacks so that you can light them. Leaning close you, brush your lips against his cheek as the flames flicker.

At this moment, Marc feels like the only people that exist are you and him. He’s overwhelmed with happiness and tenderness before you even speak another word. Marc wants to be alive. He wants to live with you, year after year. He wants to know who could be with you by his side.

As if you’ve read his mind, you whisper to him, “Happy birthday, Marc Spector. I hope for you, more love, more growth, more happiness, and contentment.”

Marc inhales shakily, his eyes growing wet with tears. He nods, reaching out to grasp your hand and squeeze, hoping that the gratitude he’s feeling is clear. You raise his hand, kissing it gently before gesturing towards the candles.

“Make a wish, Marc.”

He could. He lets his eyes flit around the space, his mind flitting through ideas as he takes in his surroundings. A loving light in your eyes. The sweet scent of funfetti pancakes. Coffee the color of dark caramel. The perfect box of chocolates. This place that you both call home. Marc realizes he loves things just the way they are right now. He closes his eyes and wishes that every day will hold even a fraction of the warmth it does right now.

He guides a hand to your chin, pulling you close by it so he can press a grateful kiss to your mouth. “Thank you, sweetheart, all of this is great. More than I could’ve asked for.”

“Get used to it, Spector,” You laugh, mouth brushing his.

“I’m working on it, but for right now, I think it’s time for me to try some pancakes.”

moonknight taglist: @ninebluehearts , @rmoonstoner, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings, @whatthefishh

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x gn!reader #marc spector x you #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #moonknight fanfiction #x reader #arson writes

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unplugfromthesource · 1 year ago

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Viva Las Vegas

🎲About: When invited to see your childhood best friends perform at the International Hotel and Casino, things take a turn of events and reveal suppressed feelings for your once lover and now enemy.

♦️Jake Kiszka x reader

♠��Word count: 6k

♣️Warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, angst, crying, cheating, ldk what else 🙌🏻

🃏Authors note: enjoy this is my first story so I hope it’s good and if the format is messed up sorryyy😛

⭐️⭐️⭐️

If you were to be told that your childhood best friends were performing at the International Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, you would die laughing. Growing up in the small town of Frankenmuth Michigan, you were always told you needed to live a big life and make the town proud, and that is exactly what you did. After finishing high school, you dropped the idea of college and found yourself working at the well-known store of Bronners, making a little less than minimum wage, but it worked. You saved up for 2 years straight, just to be able to rent out a small studio apartment in Nashville Tennessee, the music city. You landed yourself a job at a small bar that frequently hosted small and upcoming bands, one of them being the Orange Blossoms: the band you now market for full-time while working for RCA Record Labels. Life was good, really good; well until you got a very interesting call two weeks back from a very drunk childhood best friend, Josh Kiszka.

“Hello?” You asked rubbing your eyes. It had to be at least 3 am and you were woken out of a dead sleep to answer a call you should’ve just let go to voicemail.

“Y/N MY FAVORITE PERSON,” you could practically smell the alcohol reeking off the man you called your other half through the phone “HOW ARE YOU!”

“Josh,” you pulled the phone away from your ear and to no surprise the time read

3:05 am “It’s 3 am I was asleep just like you should be. Is there something you need?”

“Mama, do I ever need a reason to call the girl I love the most?” He asked almost slurring every other word

“No Josh but it’s a Thursday and I have work soon and need to sleep. Goodnight Joshua”.

“NO, NO WAIT. I had something to tell you but it slipped my mind.. Jake, what was I going to tell y/n again?” That name. The name of the man who had destroyed you. Josh’s twin brother, Jacob. Thomas. Kiszka. Silence hit the air and you could hear the long-haired man laugh and mumble something to his brother.

Jake and you had dated back in high school. It wasn’t a quick thing, it was a three-year-long commitment. Jake was your first and you his. He was there for the first time you got black-out drunk, greened out, ran away from home, lost your childhood pet, everything. Jake was not only your boyfriend but your best friend and you were beyond happy, you couldn’t ask for anything more. Well, all that joy and happiness, left in the blink of an eye on the night of your senior prom. It took no time at all for you to see the photo. There, in his jet black tuxedo and pink tye to match your flowing dress was an 18-year-old Jake pushed up against the wall with some dumb blonde. The dumb blonde in question? your best friend. Life had changed completely. All the sorries in the world couldnt make up for what he had done to you. You could care less about the skanky bitch you called your best friend but Jake? Your Jake? You have never felt more alone in your entire life. You broke contact with him for 6 years. Six years of your life you spent tip-toeing around him. You would exchange glances at parties Josh or Sam would host but not a single word would leave your lips. Josh had tried his best to break up the tension but you were stubborn, you always have been and that was partially the reason Jake had stopped trying so hard to apologize to you, because he knew you wouldn’t forgive and forget.

You broke the no contact on the twin's 24th birthday. You were invited to the party and you didn’t think twice about going, not for Jake but for Josh. Only for Josh. However, to lie and say Jake had looked nothing far from gorgeous would be wrong. He looked.. perfect. You found yourself drinking one too many martinis made by the fluffy-haired twin and ended up letting the alcohol take its course and finally speaking to the man who broke your heart. As you moved your body through the sea of people invited to the house located just out of Nashville, you found your glossy eyes looking upon a somber Jake.

“Hi.” you said quietly as you took a seat next to him outside by the small fire that had been growing rather dim as the night went on.

“Hi, Angel.” He said as his eyes met yours, using the same nickname he gave you all those years back in high school.

“ I uh, I just wanted to say Happy Birthday and wish you a year full of good memories or whatever you have in your life you want to be good.” God your mouth had never felt so dry as you were at such a loss for words. Why you were even speaking to him was beyond you.

“Thank you. How have you been? It's been what? Five-ish years?”

“Ive been good, I could be better but work is good and I got a dog of my own, yea lifes been, been going good.” Been going good and we should keep it that way, you thought to yourself.

“I'm glad. Ive missed you, Angel. Ive missed what we had.” His hand found its way to yours. Just as soon as it happened it was over as a girl was soon calling his name. A girl whose voice you’ve heard more than once before. As you turned your head, to no surprise you were met with the girl he cheated on you with all that while back. You sobered right up and stood quickly.

“It shows Jake. Happy birthday again.” and with that, you continued with your life, not speaking to the ghost of the man you once knew.

As you came back from your thoughts you were brought back to a drunk Josh rambling on about god knows what.

“So what do you say?” Jesus you must have been zoned out, I mean it was 3 am and this call was more than unnecessary in your eyes.

“Sorry, repeat what you just said, but make it short.”

“ I SAID, we're going on another leg for the US and were going to this fancy place in Vegas where Elvis played and I want you to come.” You had already seen the infamous Greta Van Fleet perform far more than once but a trip to Vegas didn’t sound too terrible.

“The International Casino?” you asked confusingly

“Yeah, that's the one! It's in a few weeks Angel so you have time to think but it would mean the world to all of us if you would delight us with your amazing presence.” You let out a small laugh, ignoring the fact that the nickname has made its way to stick with you for so long.

“Send me over the details in the morning Josh and I’ll look into it. Im going to bed now and I think you should too, love you lots Josh.” The short man let out a sigh wished you a good night and hung up.

Now, you sit in your hotel room, a suite not to mention, putting on the lash finishing details to your makeup, similar to that of which Josh does, and preparing for the night ahead. As you added the last rhinestone to your cheek, you moved to grab your favorite red lipstick, carefully applying it only to be interrupted by a phone call from no other than the man himself.

“Hello, mamas.”

“Hi Josh, to what do I owe the pleasure”

“I’m sending someone up to your room right now to grab you and bring you to the dressing rooms, then we're gonna bring you to your spot. Sound good?” You laughed knowing that by going on this trip Josh was going to do whatever he needed to make sure that you had lived it to the best extent, even if that meant reserving a special spot in the pit when you were more than happy to be in a seat, out of the way.

“Yes that’s fine Josh,” you said with a laugh “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you continued applying your lipstick, sprayed your favorite perfume, and were met with a soft knock at the door to your luxurious suite. You opened the door to see one of the many men you'd seen running around with the band before and allowed him to escort you to a room that was titled “Greta Van Fleet-Josh Dressing” and let you inside.

You were immediately met with showers of welcomes, seeing that not only Josh sat in this room but Sam and Danny too, Jake nowhere to be found.

“Angel! We’ve missed you come in!” exclaimed Josh and he sat up from his spot in a chair and left the woman doing his makeup dumbfounded at the sudden change in focus. As he came up to hug you it felt as if any worry you had about the night had left you completely. His hug was soon followed by Sam and Danny which led you all into a deep conversation of how life had been. Well, as deep as it could go seeing as they had to perform in just short of 30 minutes. As Sam rambled on about Rose and his love life your mind drifted to the fact that the other, more serious, twin wasn’t present. It must have shown on your face for Sam cleared his throat and said

“Jake in his dressing room, “practicing” is what he calls it but im pretty sure he's in there taking shots to pregame.” You let out a soft “ah” to show your understanding. It didn’t come as a surprise to you that Jacob Kiszka was pregaming, you felt like you always saw him drinking before a show, even when he was back in Frankenmuth whether it be a beer or a shot of vodka. Soon you found yourself taking a shot with the boys as if to say good luck on the stage tonight, knowing they wouldn’t need that; I mean they were amazing, to say the least. You saw the effect these men had on some of the people in the crowd, not just from their undeniable beauty but from the fact that their music meant something, it changed people and you couldn’t be more proud of them. While you never imagined them this big, you felt like they had this written in the stars for them. After exchanging conversation they got the five-minute call and the next thing you knew you were being brought out of the room and down to the pit. As you walked down the small hallway leading you to the stage, you heard the voice of a man talking to another, but not just talking, he was mad, really mad. The security guard tried to hurry you along past the scene but as you passed him, you could see that black suit, shining in the light due to the amazing detailing from the rhinestones and diamonds, and you knew that was Jake. Your Jake. Why he was mad? You wish you knew. Maybe something happened with his guitar, or maybe he had just gotten bad news from someone, but whatever it was, you weren’t even allowed a moment to process it before you were pushed along to your “special spot”. You found yourself being lifted over the railing of the pit and put smack dab in the middle of the barricade. You almost felt bad, this could’ve been someone else’s spot so before he could walk away, you grabbed the arm of the security guard and pulled him close to the railing.

“Is there anywhere else I can sit? Maybe up there?” you yelled out as you pointed to the seats sitting at an angle to the side of the stage.

The guard just looked at you and sighed, “They told me they wanted you here specifically, so they could see you. Don’t worry we had someone hold this spot for you. Enjoy the show Ms.Y/L/N.” And with that, he was gone and the lights started to dim, followed by a beautiful violin cover of the songs off Starcatcher.

The curtain fell and the boys made their way down from their spots, going on with the show as normal, until it came to the point of what would normally be their switch to the second stage, except this venue, in particular, did not have one, so they stayed put and gathered around into a half circle, facing the crowd in front of them. Sam had started to play a melody on his keys you knew all too well and once Josh started singing, tears filled your eyes. It was always a joke growing up about how much you and Mrs.Kiszka adored John Denver, Jake, and Josh egging it onto you how much you were like their mom. You had always seen on social media postings of them playing bits from The Music Is You, to honor their mom when playing back in your home state, but it never once crossed your mind that they may do the same for you. Josh had sang beautifully as always and made it a point to look right at you and reach his hand out to you when he finished the little snippet of the song you adored oh so much. You wiped your eyes and mouthed a quick thank you to Josh. While it may have seemed silly to the girls around you, you hadn’t seen the boys in truly so long, and just to hear them sing, knowing it was for you, made you appreciate how much they have changed you and your life, good or bad.

As the concert continued you found yourself in a sea of screaming girls once the familiar tune of The Archer, began playing. Josh had told you over the phone about the many interactions he had with fans, going down to the pit, hugging, kissing, grabbing them, and showing his love during Jake's extended solo and you expected nothing different for tonight. Just as you expected, Josh made his way down to the pit, hugging as many as he could but your attention drifted elsewhere. Your eyes found taking in the image of the man you once called your true love as he shook back and forth with his guitar, dramatizing the solo more than it needed to be. You found yourself taking in his features; his long, wet hair, the way it stuck to his face due to the sweat running down his body to his torso, the way his hips shook back and forth as he damn near abused his guitar on the stage. You couldn’t draw your eyes away but were broken out of your trance as soon his met yours. The tension you felt was unreal and hard to differentiate between sexual or pure rage for what had happened all that time back. It wasn’t just the cheating that had you mad though and you knew that. Jake was a slut, a genuine slut. You felt like he was sleeping around with a new girl after every show and he made no point of hiding it as photos circulated on the internet of him leaving venues with different girls every other week. You watched as he would watch himself play, in awe with his state of himself, what a self-centered asshole you thought. Soon, you brought your eyes away from his but couldn’t help but feel them staring down at you throughout the remainder of the show, almost as if he tried his best not to look before but now couldn’t control it. As Josh reached the last note of the last song, they bid their farewells and wished their love to all in the crowd and soon exited the stage.

As the pit fully cleared out, you made your way from the front of the pit despite the security trying to escort you to the boys backstage, you broke out of their hold telling them you needed to go to the restroom and would find your way back there on your own. You felt like you were being babied and honestly needed a drink or two after whatever the hell that show was. You moved through the sea of people and found yourself standing at a bar waving down a bartender, ordering your usual Jack and Coke. As the cold drink met your lips, you could feel yourself loosen up in an instant. Three drinks later you found yourself too far from tipsy but not yet fully drunk, you would give yourself a drink more before you were completely dazed out. You closed out your tab and picked up your phone, being met with text after text from Josh asking where you went. You called him and asked where he was, telling you he was at some restaurant located in the hotel and would send Sam to come and get you. As you sat impatiently, you decided it wouldn’t hurt to get another drink; the boys were probably near drunk by now as well who cares you thought as you ordered another drink, asking for it to be stronger than the last one, asking for this drink just to be put on the room, to which Josh was paying for. As you finished the last drops of your drink it was only a matter of time before the alcohol worked its course and you felt ready to dance and let loose.

Soon, Sam's body found yours as you laughed to him about just how good the show truly was, showering him with compliments on the band's skill. He only laughed alongside you, letting the alcohol drift from his breath to your face, letting you know it indeed was ok to order that last drink. As he guided you back to the restaurant, you were met with surprise seeing as the restaurant was not only a restaurant but a dance club. The seats consisted of a few big, dimly lit booths, and many high tops and scattered lounge chairs. Sam led you to one of the booths and you slid your body right in, to Josh, except the booth was now only being filled by you and Josh, the other three boys out dancing or getting drinks by the bar. You leaned into Josh and shouted as loud as you could over the music.

“The show was amazing Josh,” you said partially slurring your words “thank you for playing my song for me; ‘meant a lot y’know.” You smiled at him, eyes glossy.

“Anything for my favorite girl.” He said, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly.

You found yourself being pulled in all sorts of directions as Josh danced the night away with you until your phone read about 2 am. You pulled Josh to the side and told him it was time for you to make your way back to your room and sadness filled his eyes.

“I don’t want the night to end either Josh but I’m tired and drunk and need to sleep.” you laughed lightly.

“Yeah, I know mama. When is your flight back to Nash? Maybe we can spend the day on the strip tomorrow before we gotta go?” You looked at the man like he had six eyes. You were in no state to think of such difficult things, or at least that's how they seemed to you. You lazily gave him an estimate knowing it was some time in the afternoon, but it was late enough for you to spend time with him and the rest of the boys. As you wished him goodnight you stumbled out of the restaurant-themed club and made your way toward the elevators.

As you pressed the elevator buttons and entered in, you pressed the button leading you to the twelfth floor where your room resided. Just as the doors were about to close, a hand wedged itself in between the two doors, opening them back up and bringing you to face a, at least you would think, equally as drunk Jake. You didn’t want to talk to him let alone look at him but god did he look good. As he walked in he let out a small sigh, almost disappointed on who was in the small box with him. Before you could even open your mouth to ask him what floor he was headed to, he leaned in front of you, almost far too close for comfort, and pressed the number directly above the one you lit up and returned to his place on the opposite side, not exchanging a single word. You were praying the floor would stop somewhere else and someone would get into the elevator with the two of you, breaking the awkward silence but no one did. As the elevator made its way up you cleared your throat and as soberly as possible said

“You guys put on quite the show tonight.” You couldn’t tell if it came off as rude or a compliment.

“Glad you enjoyed it, Angel.” He said, his eyes lifting from the floor to look at you, take in your outfit, tailored specifically for this evening. You were dressed in a shorter-than-short silver skirt to show off your height as Jake himself always joked how you should be flaunting your “long legs” whatever the fuck that meant, followed by a black corset that had detailing that was similar to that of what was embroidered on the twins suits. Your skin was covered in glitter, from your chest to your arms and you supported a few dainty necklaces gifted from the boys themselves as well as a bracelet you bought for yourself just for this event. You put on your cleanest pair of go-go boots and do your makeup to resemble Josh, followed by a red lip and your hair in loose curls. How it all stayed on to this moment was a surprise to even you but it did, and maybe this time it genuinely was the alcohol, but you felt hot, really hot. Jake had managed to find time to change so he sported a simple linen set you've seen him wear one too many times before, leaving all but the last two buttons undone to show off his toned chest against the silver of his plethora of silver coins.

“It's not polite to stare.” you stated flatly at the man before you, toying with the bracelet on your wrist to keep you occupied. God this elevator was taking forever.

“You seemed to have no issue earlier towards the end of the show.” He let out slightly with a smug smile almost as if to insinuate something more than what was there.

“I’m sorry? Am I supposed to stare at the floor during a concert?” You snapped back only to be met with a smile forming wider on his lips.

“Like I said, glad you enjoyed Angel.” He said, cooly.

Finally, the elevator reached your floor and you couldn’t help but sit for a minute, debating everything that’s happened between you and Jake, realizing that even after all the years, you find yourself feeling the same way you did for him all that time back. You looked up at the man in front of you in confusion about the way you felt, wondering if he felt the same.

“Goodnight Jake.” you said softly before exiting the small box and beginning the walk down the hallway. As you approached your room you felt like your legs were ready to give out. You pulled your room key out and entered the room, sleep taking over your body. As you walked in you immediately made your way to the bed, needing a minute to regain some energy before getting up again and taking off your ensemble. After a minute, you sat up, taking off your boots, followed by your corset and skirt, taking off your socks and undergarments, and moving to get a a baggy t-shirt and different underwear. Once changed, you made your way toward the bathroom to begin removing your pounds of jewelry. The weight being taken off your neck led you to focus on taking off your bracelet however to your surprise, it wasn’t there. Fuck you thought to yourself. If it was anywhere, it was back in that elevator where you stood fidgeting with it while talking to Jake. You would’ve just let it go had it not been as expensive as it was. You were at a loss of thought. Do you call Jake and ask if he saw it in the elevator? No Jesus no. You tried to collect your thoughts in your drunken state and decided to just go back onto the elevator and look for it there. It was almost 3 am so you would think no one would be out in the hall so you slipped on some ankle socks and crept out of the comforts of your room, making your way to the elevator. Just as you went to press the button to go back down, the doors opened, and before you stood the same man you had just seen minutes before, holding your bracelet. He scanned over your body before stepping out of the elevator, taking in your “pajamas” and smirking slightly.

“You look comfortable.”

“Just give me my bracelet Jake. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.” You snapped at him, almost too loudly.

“Yeesh someone's angry.” He said with a chuckle, reaching his hand out to you.

You snatched it out of his and turned making your way back to the room, not giving him a second longer of your time.

Once you got to the door, the harsh reality hit you. You missed him. He looked so good on that damn stage tonight, it made you realize that you did miss him. You missed the nights when you would spend laughing your asses off at the stupidest tv shows, or the way you would make fun of each other for the way they looked when they woke up in the morning. What you missed most of all? The feeling of his body against yours. The way he made you feel complete. You felt tears build up in your eyes. You had loved him, even from the day he cheated on you, you have always loved him. You never loved another. You missed your Jake. As you entered the room, tears streamed from your eyes, not just out of sadness but anger. Angry that even after he did do this, you still wanted to crawl back into his arms, and be told it was all going to be ok. You moved to grab your phone and opened up your messages. You knew you shouldn’t have but you opened a new conversation and sat, staring at what you would even say. Before you could even type the first letter, a knock at your door filled the silence.

You opened up the door to be met with the eyes of the same boy you had never stopped loving. You locked eyes before the sudden movement of him brought his lips toward yours. It was like he had been thinking the same thing, as his hands met your waist and yours locked around the back of his neck. Quickly, he backed you into the room, kicking the door closed behind him and guiding you towards your bed. Your hands wrapped up into his tangled curls, pulling at them as he deepened the kiss. His hands began to slip under your shirt, searching every inch of your body, stopping just before your chest. As he backed you through your room, you turned, leading him towards the bed instead, moving your hands down to his face. As you approached the bed, you pushed him back and stepped back, moving to lift your shirt off of your body as he worked on his own. Once both were removed, your lips met his again, this time holding more force, as your hands roamed his body, leading you down to his waist, running them over his legs, slowly working their way up to his member, painfully hard already through his linens. A groan hit your lips, letting you know that he wanted this just as badly as you did. All those thoughts of doubt and anger towards him left your mind as he started to work kisses down your chin while you worked on getting his pants off. Once off, you lowered yourself onto your knees, palming him through his underwear as he stared at you with lust-filled eyes as you moved painstakingly slow.

You looked up at him, eyes glossed as you were just as desperate with him and slowly pulled down his underwear, pressing soft kisses to the insides of his thighs. Moving your way up, you could feel his body shudder, struggling to keep the little composure he had left. Finally, you took him into your mouth, pushing him down until he hit the back of your throat and slowly started to move up and down.

“Fuck Y/N.” he whispered, collecting the hair draping around your face, making a ponytail in his fist but using no force and letting you have free reign.

As you got comfortable with the feeling, you began to pick up your pace, settling him at the back of your throat after a little and choking back a gag, tears filling your eyes but this time for all the different reasons. A string of praises and curses left his lips as he started to force your head back up, almost as an instinct. As you let him, he kept up with the pace until he felt it was too much and switched to holding you in place as he began to thrust up into your mouth, quickly, bringing him to let out a loud moan.

He continued to hit the back of your throat and the gag you tried so hard to suppress released itself, causing him to lean his head back in pure ecstasy.

“F-fuck Angel, you're taking me so well” he managed to say with eyes squeezed shut.

The words leaving his lips made the pool forming between your legs ten times worse as you squeezed your legs together for some sort of relief. As you looked up at Jake, his eyes met yours as he reached his hand down to play with your breasts, releasing a moan from your lips. Just as fast as it was happening, it stopped and Jake pulled himself out of your mouth and you up from the floor, pressing kisses along your torso and breasts, hooking his fingers into the sides of your laced underwear. As he pulled them down, he stood, switching positions with you as you slid yourself back towards the head of the bed, laying comfortably as he worked to situate himself between your legs. Following your same movements minutes ago, he began to press kisses into the sides of your thighs, moaning as he did so as if it was pleasure enough to be touching you. Your hand trailed down to the bundle of nerves as the ache growing between your legs began to fog your thoughts. Just as you began to touch yourself, Jake grabbed your wrist stopping you whilst continuing to kiss his way up to that very spot.

He moved your hand out of the way and his lips found your clit, rubbing slow circles with his tongue around the nerves, a quiet moan escaping your lips.

“I wanna hear your pretty little sounds, Angel, don’t get shy on me now.” he said, releasing his mouth from you and slowly moving it back.

As he did so, your breath quickened as he flattened his tongue along your core, taking you in. He refocused his tongue on your clit as his fingers slowly danced along your legs, making their way up to slowly find their way inside of you. Starting with one at a slow pace, your hips jolted forward as you begged for more, allowing him to add a second digit inside of you, picking up the pace. Moans streamed from your lips as he set a steady, fast, pace, whilst continuing to work his tongue over your clit. Your hands found his hair again, pushing his face forward, grinding forward against his lips.

“Holy shit Jake” you moaned out as you began to slowly feel a knot forming in your stomach. Just when you thought it was impossible, he picked up the pace even faster, slipping his hands under your legs pulling you closer, and anchoring you in place as your back arched with pleasure. Your head dug back into the pillows as you let out a close-to-pornographic moan release from your lips. His tongue worked quick circles around your clit, making your head spin with pure pleasure. You had missed the feeling of him on you, in you, and you never wanted to let go of the feeling you gained back.

“J-Jake I’m s’close,” you said a little too loudly “don’t stop, please.” you said with a moan as you could feel you losing yourself with pleasure.

As he continued to work quickly, he involuntarily thrust his hips forward into the mattress and you wanted nothing more than for him to be in you.

“Jake stop fuck stop.” you said almost defeatedly knowing you were close to pure bliss. Immediately without thought, he lifted his face from between your legs, keeping his fingers inserted, moving at a far slower pace.

“What's wrong?” he said breathily, still trying to get his bearings about him.

“Nothing I just,” you said fighting back another moan as his fingers still worked inside of you, “I want you in me, I can’t wait any longer.” you said quickly. He met your words with a smirk and finished by curling his fingers in you and pulling them out, leaving you wishing he didn’t stop. He brought his fingers to his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them and having you watch as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Jesus you taste so good Angel” he said raspily, moving his way up to be over you, lining himself up. Rubbing his hands up and down his shaft a few times you took the opportunity to switch positions, straddling him. You leaned forward to press kisses to his lips and slowly down to his chin, then neck, sucking harshly assuring you would leave a proud mark for the morning, down to his chest and torso. Slowly, you reached for his member, giving it a few pumps before slowly lowering yourself down onto him, releasing a mouth from your lips due to the stretch his size brought to you. God how I missed him was all you could think to yourself. Slowly, you began to move, setting a slow back-and-forth movement before working yourself to move more intensely. He brought one hand to your hip as if to anchor you there and another to your breast, leaning forward to put one in his mouth and leave one in his hand, eliciting another moan. As his mouth worked over your sensitive breasts, you began to pick up your pace and slowly pick yourself up off him before quickly lowering you wereslef back down, setting a speed for him to adjust to. Eventually, his head flew back to the pillows out of pure bliss, continuing to move his hand over your breast.

You leaned forward towards his neck as he began to thrust into you, letting you leave more small bruises for the morning. His hands now switched from your legs to your ass, having a firm grip you were scared would leave you with bigger bruises to form.

“ I missed you,” he whispered into your ear “fuck I missed you so much.” God, he sounded needy, desperate, as if you could get closer and you just didn’t know it.

“Tell me, what’d you miss jakey.” you said weakly. As much joy as this brought you, you wanted this to last, to be able to do this with him whenever be able to be his again, and you wanted him to confirm your hopes that he felt the same.

“I missed it all Y/N, I-” he cut himself off with a moan as you tightened around him as you tried to hold back a moan, despite his command to be vocal “ I missed your laugh, and your beautiful smile, fuck, I missed every aspect of you.” Good enough you thought to yourself given that he was fucking you fast.

You brought yourself up from his neck, taking control once more, picking up where his pace left off.

“Shit m’close baby.” he said quickly, with eyes squeezed shut, similar to how he looked while you rubbed your tongue down his shaft. The sweat forming on his face caused his hair to stick to his face, similar to on stage, making you want him even more than you already had him. With that, he flipped you over, taking over once more, and quickened the pace ever so slightly, clearly impatient. One leg found its way around his waist as the opposite hand reached for his back, clawing, trying to stabilize yourself.

“M’close too,” you said with tears forming in your eyes out of pure desperation, “Jake, faster and don’t stop.” you said gravelly.

Following your command, he drilled into you as the knot that had been building up for so long finally came undone and euphoria took over your body, your heading stretching back, moans streaming from your lips followed by his name. Just as you had begun to start to come down, his high began as his movements began to falter, letting you know he was there. He began to move back, trying to put out. You wrapped your other leg around him and pulled him closer, stopping his action.

“Inside me.. I want it inside me.” you said quickly, whilst looking up at him.

Without a second thought, he fully pushed back in and released himself into you, continuing to fuck the release into you, slowly and painfully. Once he was done, he pulled out, plopping down beside you, both of you breathing incredibly fast. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed kisses onto the side of your face and chin. With the moment of calm, your mind began to race again, but his voice pulled you out of thought.

“I love you Y/N. I love you, only you, I’ve only ever loved you, ever since the minute I layed eyes on you, I knew that I wanted to be with you for every minute of every day. I’m sorry for what I did but I will never stop loving you till the day I die.” He said sweetly, a tone you’ve not heard in years. You turned to look at him, your face serious but eyes filled with shock. You couldn’t find the words so you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was not like before. It was slow, passionate, everlasting. You pulled away and pushed your forehead against his.

“I love you forever Jacob Thomas Kiszka.” you said with a smile forming on your lips. All that time you had spent angry with him, upset with him, you had just wished he was different and he was. Maybe it took years, but he changed. He was your Jake and he always would be. The smile that formed on his lips matched yours.

“I do have to say miss Y/L/N,” your eyes furrowed with confusion, “I think you outdid the rest of the girls in the pit with your outfit tonight,” he said as you began to laugh about how unserious he was.

“Jake”

“Hm?”

“You’re an idiot”

“But you love me so it works out”

“But I love you so it does work out I guesss” you said dragging out your s’s.

He simply wrapped you up to the side of him pressing a kiss to the side of your head as sleep took over both of your bodies, allowing you to feel content once again with your life knowing you were complete once again.

#jake kiszka #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiska fic #jake kiskza smut #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #daniel wagner #enemies to lovers #greta van fic #greta van smut #greta van angst #jtk #jake gvf #greta van fluff #jacob kiszka #jacob thomas kiszka

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luna-writes-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

Wasting Love, Kirk Hammett

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Angst, bittersweet pining

Word count: 4269

Tw: mention of sex, groupies, that rockstar life™ etc. You also kind of sleep around so maybe kind of OOC to you, but the whole song is about one night stands and sex that doesn’t involve feelings, so cry about it <3 For a fic about sex, it sure lacks actual sex and smut. This is just angst revolving around sex, so I’m sorry to my horny readers :( Mentions of drugs/being drugged (doesn’t happen in the story, but it gets mentioned) and use of alcohol. Swearing, Luna’s favourite swear word fuck <3

Summary: Touring with Metallica brought unnecessary talks about groupies and their nights spent together. And it shouldn’t have bothered you, had you not been head over heels for Kirk. When you see him sneaking out of an hotel room one night, you finally break.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Maybe one day I'll be an honest man. Up 'til now I'm doing the best I can.”

There were so many great things about touring with Metallica: you saw a little bit of the world, met many amazing fans, had fun company and you didn’t have to pay for much. It did come as a plus that you had known James as long as you had. He had, after all, been the one who had managed to get you to be the one to tune the guitars, basses and make sure their amplifiers were working correctly. It was a job that technically only had to be done 2 to 3 hours before the band had to go up on stage, so there was plenty of time for you to enjoy your time in a new city.

The single awful thing about travelling with Metallica: learning a lot more about their private life than you would have actually liked. It was no secret that rockstars had their local groupies, but the time spent with them would continue to baffle you. The worst part of it all were the ineffable feelings that had begun to grow towards a certain guitarist. You didn’t know if he was oblivious or did it out of spite (which would have been way worse), but each time you couldn’t come on the bus or knock on hotel doors because of… well, activities, your heart broke a little bit more.

You should have anticipated this from the start. James had kindly warned you about it, which had been an awkward conversation at first, but you truly thought you could handle it. But when they weren’t busy, they were talking about their nights, bragging about it as if you weren’t sitting right there. What hadn’t helped the situation was that James knew about your whole situation, so the usual comments he’d throw towards his band members had lessened significantly. Especially when Kirk had something to throw in.

“Long roads, long days. Of sunrise to sunset, of sunrise to sunset.”

You had been good friends with all of them for years, so they never really considered you as an outsider to their conversations. Initially, it had led to great talks, but now all they really brought was sorrow. And Kirk seemed perfectly happy in his situation, often talking about how this was so much better than a relationship, because no feelings could be hurt. After that, you could never really find it in yourself to find a move on him.

So, you let yourself get caught up in their lives too. After all, with the involvement the band gave you, many fans had laid their eyes on you as well. If they could find their joy and liberty in sex, you might as well. No feelings attached, just brief hook-ups and nights spent in other hotel rooms. You didn’t know what hurt most: the fact you found little relief in it, or the fact no one seemed bothered you had been sleeping around. When you casually mentioned it once, the band seemed to almost cheer for you, claiming it was good that you found some pleasure as well. You had hoped for that slight shift in Kirk’s posture, or a tiny twitch in his eyes, but nothing.

James hadn’t talked with you about it. He just figured you had moved on. In all honesty, he was too busy as well to properly have a conversation about emotions, actions and feelings. You didn’t want to burst his bubble.

“Dream on, brothers, while you can. Dream on, sisters, I hope you find the one.”

Thus, you continued the tour as you usually did. Some days you’d hang out with the band, other days you’d discover cities on your own. Besides your pining, you and Kirk had been close friends as well, so it wasn’t unusual for you to go to bars together or explore backstreets with just the two of you. But the longer the tour wore on, the more uncomfortable it had gotten. Ever since you had shared your experiences, it seemed to only fuel their… private talks. None showed shame in it, and none noticed that that fake laugh you had been putting up was getting weaker by the day.

You didn’t know how many weeks you had been on tour now or how many shows had been played. You didn’t even really know in which city you were, nor who was the name of the person in the bed next to you. When you had gotten changed and realised they were still sleeping, you couldn’t even tell what time it had been.

You had stumbled out of the unknown hotel room, hair messy and clothes lazily thrown on. It wasn’t as if you were going to run into anyone important during this hour. Except, it did.

By the time you rounded the corner, you found Kirk sneaking out of another room, seemingly in a similar state to what you had been in. Your heart shattered all over again at the sight, but you swallowed it down. When he noticed you, he fumbled with his pants, giving you a goofy grin and a short wave. You hadn’t even noticed you had frozen, your eyes glued on the red marks on his neck. However, you snapped out of it quickly, copying his wave before walking the other way. You couldn’t recall where your room was. You didn’t really want to find it now. Somehow, that sheer sight managed to get you more worked up than it should have.

“All of our lives, covered up quickly. By the tides of time.”

The elevator took too long to reach your floor, so you opted for the stairs after waiting for a full five seconds. All you really wanted to do right now is find a secluded space where you could just sink to the ground and cry. For a really long time.

The only logical place in your head ran to the lobby downstairs. They would have enough bathroom stalls for you to simply collapse there and have a good crying session. When you were done, you could recollect your thoughts. The idea of it sounded so nice. However, by the time you came downstairs, you were simply too exhausted to do anything else but collapse on the nearest chair and just stare blankly at the wall. It was still dark outside, the only thing illuminating the streets being the streetlights and occasional cars. You only saw them from the corner of your eyes, your head still straight towards the empty green wall in front of you.

You could have sat there for hours, and you wouldn’t have known. It probably wasn’t. When you were done staring, you spotted a clock, seeing the pointers on two and six. You didn’t reach the hotel until one, so you couldn’t have sat there for hours. It felt like it, though.

You didn’t want to move. Not really. You just felt incredibly numb now. You should have just mentioned everything at the beginning. You shouldn’t have been such a pussy and should have made a move years ago. You shouldn’t have joined this tour. You could have known this going into it. It was a mistake. This was terrible.

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

In a fit of frustration, you throw the heels in your hands across the room, sick and tired of holding them the entire time. You watched as they bounced on the floor, before coming to halt in an almost cinematic shot. When they stilled, your hands balled up into fists. These heels were gorgeous to look at. You remembered picking them out this night. They went perfect with your outfit and simply looked stunning. You remembered the reason why you had put them on: you were going to a bar with the band. And you looked breathtaking. These were the heels that seemed to ooze sex and ask for attention. Of course these had to be the heels you had worn for him. He had told you how much he loved them when starting the tour. When unpacking your wardrobe, he had casually wandered in and went through your shoes, and these were the ones special enough for him to mention. You had worn them for him. And he left with some chick, leaving you wallowing in self pity in the bed of a stranger.

Fuck those heels.

You couldn’t even properly formulate why it had devastated you as much as it had. He didn’t seem interested in you, so you began to pick up on his lifestyle. You hadn’t even done it in an effort to make him jealous or glue his eyes to you - no; you simply needed the distraction from him. And you were so convinced you were going to find it in the bed of another, but you didn’t.

All his stupid fault. No one told him he had to be so damn desirable and kind. In all truth, you were convinced he couldn’t even see how much it bothered you. You couldn’t tell if that made him a bad friend, or you a bad friend. Probably both. All you knew was that, if it wasn’t for him, you’d be perfectly happy where you were.

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

The longer you remained stuck on your own thoughts, the harder it became to suppress the huge lump in your throat. The urge to cry resurfaced, and you could have cursed yourself for getting so wound up for some guy.

The tears had already gathered in your eyes as you scanned the room, looking for anyone nearby. When you couldn’t find them, the first drop fell down. Resting your elbows on your knees, you leaned forward, sobbing into your hands, repeatedly muttering the word ‘stupid’.

All you really felt now was just anguish, pain, anger and embarrassment. A silent longing for home filled you as you mourned the comfort of your own bed, and the hugs of those you couldn’t take on tour with you. You could use a hug from anyone who had nothing to do with Metallica.

But fate wouldn’t have you sit there weeping on your own. During the tour, you had felt truly secluded when you needed company, but the one moment you simply wished to be alone, you wouldn’t be.

“Dream on, brothers, while you can. Dream on, sisters, I hope you find the one.”

You hadn’t heard him walking down the stairs nor had you heard the sound of the elevator, but you could feel his presence suddenly beside you. And his stupid cologne. That damn thing never seemed to wear off.

You looked up at him in a mixture of annoyance and sadness, holding your hands flat out, not trusting your voice to speak for you. His face softened as he noticed your tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, kneeling down to come eye level with you. The gesture made your heart flutter, even when you least wanted him to be there.

“What are you doing here?” He asked confused, though his voice was gentle all the same. You snorted unflatteringly, simply not caring for his opinion now. “Couldn’t find my room.” You shrugged, wiping stray tears off your face. Then, your eyes fell on your knees, refusing to meet his eyes.

Kirk was silent for a while, one of his hands resting on your thighs, the notion nearly lighting your skin on fire. “You okay?” He questioned, rubbing the skin soothingly. Successfully catching your attention, your eyes met his once more. When you didn’t answer him, he frowned, now looking at your face as if he was searching: “Did he drug you or something?”

Curse him to be concerned when you just wanted to shout at him. You didn’t have the energy to do it, though. He just needed to leave you alone. “No. I’m fine.” You answered, hoping it was enough to get him to leave.

It wasn’t.

“All of our lives, covered up quickly. By the tides of time.”

“You sure?” He went on, his hand leaving your thigh; a touch you didn’t know you would miss so soon. He forced a small smile, trying to lighten the situation: “I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t cry after sex.”

Yes, well, it didn’t lighten everything. It made it worse. The remark came as a dull stab in the heart to you, and you couldn’t suppress the hidden mumble under your breath. “Yeah, you wouldn’t.”

Thankfully, he didn’t catch that. And if he did, he didn’t respond to it. “I’m not drugged,” You assured him. “And I’m not drunk.” “You did drink a lot.” Kirk countered, though the humour had vanished from his face when you didn’t laugh at his remark. You’d always laugh at his words, even if they weren’t that funny. His words didn’t try to make fun of the situation anymore. It was genuine worry now.

“Trust me, it wore off.” You dismissed, running a hand through your hair as you forced yourself to sit upright. Kirk stood up as you did so, holding his hand out in front of him, ready to catch you if you were to fall. When you didn’t, he looked around before looking back at you: “I’m gonna get you something to drink,” Then, he pointed to your seat. “Stay here.”

He took off to the nearest vending machine, fishing for some loose change in his barely buttoned up pants. “Kirk, I’m fine.” You called after him, but he waved his hand in a dismissive manner, now typing in a number. You simply watched him do so, your face set in a scowl as you whispered a hushed ‘fuck you’.

“Sands are flowing and the lines are in your hand. In your eyes I see the hunger, and the desperate cry that tears the night.”

He returned with a bottle of water, handing it you as you begrudgingly opened it and began to drink. “You have room 403,” Kirk’s voice called as he sat down next to you. “You’re next to James, who has 405, and opposite of me: 402.” You just hummed at him, no longer interested to hold another conversation with him. You just wanted to curl up in a warm bed that wasn’t shared with anyone.

“That bad of a night, huh?” He commented as you gave him the half-finished bottle. “It’s not funny.” You deadpanned, doing your best to keep your breathing steady as you stood up. Again, Kirk tried to loosen the tension, though unsuccessfully: “Trust me, I know.” He stood up with you, his eyes still on your figure. You gave him a slight side-eye, shaking your head: “Yeah, I don’t think you do.”

Unsure of what to answer to that, he simply decided to follow you to the elevator. You didn’t speak to him during the short walk through the hall. You always talked with him. Any moment you could, really. It’s why he liked hanging around you so much. Even as you halted in front of the elevator doors, you said nothing.

“Are you alright?” Kirk tried again. “Like, really?” Inhaling sharply, you forced the newly formed tears back, the question cutting you so deeply, you had to do your best to not fall apart right there and right then. “Absolutely not.” You answered honestly, giving him a sarcastic grin before glueing your eyes on the pending floors above the elevator doors. Floor seven. It would take some time before it would get to the lobby.

Again, his hand found your skin, now softly settling on your shoulder. You now noticed he had carried your heels in his other hand, the shoes dangling from them in some sort of sick poetic way. “You know you can talk to me, right?” He went on, new words that pierced through you. But, once more, you forced yourself to keep it together, instead widening your eyes slightly as you spoke mocking words to yourself, aloud: “Oh, that couldn’t be further from the truth.” “That’s bullshit,” Kirk countered. “You can tell me anything.”

Turning around sharply, you pointed your finger at him, the gesture causing his grip to falter on you: “I don’t have to tell you jack shit.” Holding his hands up in defense, his eyebrows furrowed together. “What did I do?” “Nothing,” You replied quickly, unable to resist the slight choke in your voice as a stray tear slipped down your cheek. “You did absolutely nothing. You’re so fucking perfect, how could you ever do something wrong?”

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

The furrow in his eyebrows left, now slightly raised in concern:“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” A painful smile etched upon your face at that, speaking a little inside prayer of relief as the elevator doors finally opened. “Fuck you, Hammett.” You muttered, stepping into the cabin, reaching for the ‘close doors’ button. When they began to slide, Kirk’s hand quickly shot between them, forcing the doors back open: “No, wait.”

You tried your best to ignore him, a pounding headache already forming in agony. “Hey,” He spoke gently. “At least let me walk you to your room. I’m going that way, anyway.” “No offense, but I’d rather be alone now.” You denied, furiously rubbing the tear from your face. At the notion, you could see his expression change slightly. You didn’t want him to feel sorry feel you, but something in his eyes simply made you melt on the spot. “I don’t think that is a great idea.” He offered, holding out his hand again to stall the elevator. Now, annoyance came back into your system.

“Smell my breath, Kirk,” You spoke angrily, blowing breath his way. “There is no more liquor on my tongue. In fact, there are all kinds of things on my tongue now that I couldn’t even taste any alcohol even if I were to throw up. Some trust would look great on you.” “I trust you,” He persuaded, ignoring your innuendo as he stepped into the elevator. “Drunk or not, if you collapse onto the floor for whatever reason, I don’t like to leave you there.”

You crossed your arms at his words, slightly moved by it, but not enough to let all that anguish fade. “How romantic.” You mumbled sarcastically, watching him punch in the number to your floor. Maybe it was for the best he was so adamant on joining you. You didn’t know what floor your room was on.

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

Floor eleven. Your room was on floor eleven. The silence was deafening. You didn’t know what you preferred: his constant worrying or the space you were in right now. It was on floor three when you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Without any warning, a choked sob escaped you as new tears escaped your eyes. God, you hated being in the same elevator as him after finding him in the situation he was in only minutes ago. He was the one who could cheer you up, but at the moment, he was doing nothing but ruining you and he didn’t even know it.

Alerted by your sudden sobbing, he turned to face you. “Hey, it’s okay.” He tried to soothe, walking up to you as he pulled you into his arms. The action was enough to cause you to break down even more. It simply felt so right - so comfortable. “No, it’s not,” You wept into his shirt. “I don’t think it will be.” His hands found your back, rubbing soothing patterns onto it. You hated all of it. You hated how much you longed for it.

“You're worrying me now,” He spoke, his head resting atop yours as you gripped onto his shirt tightly. His heart had begun to sink as his head started to assume the worst case scenarios. What could have possibly happened that had shaken you up this much? There were enough things he could think of and none of them were pleasant. “What’s going on with you?”

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

You tried to calm yourself down, forcing you out of his hold as you stared at the ceiling, sniffling desperately. “Sleeping around is awful.” You confessed, a heavy sigh escaping your throat at the words, your eyes casting back down in front of you. Kirk hummed at your words, nodding in understanding: “Sometimes.” “No; all of the time,” You protested, rubbing your hands over your arms in anxiety. “It feels good for five seconds, if I even get that, and then it’s just humiliation and embarrassment.”

He didn’t know what to say about that. Sure, he has had terrible experiences, but he would be lying if he said he hated all of them. “I’m sorry,” He offered, feeling genuine remorse for you. You knew it was genuine. You knew him good enough to know when he was lying or not. And even though he was the main cause for your sadness, he was also one of your closest friends. And you needed someone to talk to: “I just want the distraction.”

You didn’t look at him as you said that, but you could feel his gaze change into that of remorse. The way he had looked at you earlier was in worry. Now, he just felt sorry for you. Both of them were appreciated. And they both amplified your emotions.

“I want to go home,” You finally sighed as the elevator reached the eleventh floor. “I can’t do this.” Stepping out of the cabin, you could hear Kirk halting for a second before he followed you. From here, it was easy to read the numbers. 388. 390. 392. You knew your room was close.

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

“Are you sure?” Kirk asked, his voice more quiet than it had been earlier. You didn’t know what to make of it. “No,” You answered honestly, grabbing the blank key card from your pocket as you reached door 403. “But the last past days have just been getting worse and worse, and I don’t think I can-“ Your voice hitched as you forced the sob down, now opening your door. You wanted to tell him. You needed to tell him. Even if he would hate it. And you were too caught up in your sadness to think straight now: “I don’t think I can spend another day watching you bang some chick and pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

Moments of silence passed as you almost watched Kirk shut down. He didn’t move, he didn’t say anything. His expression didn’t change. There was nothing in his features that could make you decipher any sort of reaction to what you had just said. And it broke your heart into a million little pieces.

Grabbing your heels from his absent hands, you threw it in your hall, your expression softening: “It’s not your fault, Kirk,” You tried to reassure. “You’re famous, enjoy it. I hope you find someone some day.”

But, once more, there was nothing you could see on him that made loose any sort of reaction. You just nodded at him, a sorrowful smile forcing its way up: “We never had this conversation. Ignore me for all I care. I’m going home tomorrow.” And with that, you closed the door, leaving him out there. The second the securing of the lock was heard, you threw your head against the wall. In any scenario you had imagined yourself confessing to him, you would have never expected him to freeze. And somehow, that was the worst reaction.

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

Emotionlessly, you sauntered to the bed in the middle of the room, throwing your body onto it, no longer finding any energy to change or even just get your clothes off. Everything felt heavy. Your eyes were glued to the lights outside, unable to do anything but simply stare.

A hesitant knock brought you back to reality, followed by a muffled voice: “Don’t go tomorrow.” You didn’t have anything left in you that told you to cry at his voice. Perhaps that was for the best. Swallowing thickly, you filled the silence in the room: “Why?” Another beat of silence. This one longer than the previous one. “I’ll miss you.”

You closed your eyes, trying to convince yourself that leaving was definitely for the best. It was. “You can always call me.” You proposed weakly. You were so tired. So tired, yet not tired enough to sleep. Staring would have to do. “Would you answer?” You didn’t respond to that.

“Please, stay.” Once more, you didn’t answer. You couldn’t. It was almost as if your voice had simply failed on you. All you could really do was stare.“Just for one more day.”

When he realised he wasn’t getting an answer, he nodded, even though you couldn’t see his face. “Okay,” He tried to understand. Then, he grabbed the second key card to his room, leaning down to slide it under the door. You could hear the shuffling, and through the neon lights from outside, you could see the key card making its way into your hall. “In case you want to talk.” He offered. Another beat of silence, followed by a sigh you could hear from your bed.

“Goodnight.”

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

#November writings 2023 #Metallica #Kirk Hammett #kirk hammett x reader #James hetfield

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yorit1 · 2 months ago

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Francesca was excited. Today was her wedding day to Michaela. It has been five years since her late husband John died. He was her best friend in her teenage years, and they married when Francesca was eighteen. John died without having children. Michaela John’s cousin comforted Francesca when he died, and she slowly fell in love with her. Francesca felt some guilt for falling in love with her husband’s cousin, but she could not help herself; the heart wants what it wants.

Francesca was in the room with her mum and her sisters. She could not believe that the day had come for her to marry someone who loved her unconditionally. She had that with John, and she had that with Michaela. She was so lucky that she had it twice.

“How do I look?” Francesca asked.

“You look great,” Eloise said. “I can’t believe we both found wonderful women to marry.”

“We are both so lucky,” Francesca said.

“You are beautiful, my girl,” Violet said. “I’m so happy that you’re happy. You deserve nothing but joy in your life.”

“I’m so thankful that Michaela is joining the family,” Hyacinth said.

“You are the most beautiful of us all,” Daphne said.

“As someone who joined this family late, I love your look in that dress,” Kate said.

“I’ve seen you grow up from the sidelines, and I think you are beautiful,” Penelope said.

“I always wanted sisters who were kind to me, and now I have a big family. You are simply beautiful,” Sophie said.

“Hug, now everyone,” Francesca said.

All the women entered a group hug with Francesca in the middle. They were all smiling, happy that they could celebrate Fran’s Day on this warm May day.

Francesca heard the band play the bridal song, and it was time for her to be walked down the aisle. Kate and Anthony were walking her down the aisle. Francesca thought that Anthony was lucky to be married to Kate. She made him happy, and they were a perfect match.

When Francesca arrived at the aisle, she watched as Michaela walked down the aisle with her best friends. Michaela had no family left, but she would have Francesca as her wife and family today.

Francesca thought Michaela was stunning. She looked great in her dress, which was a darker white. She was wearing rubies and ruby slippers. Michaela looked good in red.

Michaela arrived at Francesca’s side, and they looked into each other’s eyes. Francesca saw the love and warmth in Michaela’s eyes, and she could not believe that she would be her wife soon.

The registrar spoke up from her book.

“Welcome, everyone, to Francesca and Michaela's wedding. If any people have any reason that these two should not be married, speak now or forever remain silent,” the registrar said.

The registrar looked around and saw that everyone was smiling and smiled at the love shown to this couple.

“Perfect, silence; we love to hear it,” the registrar said. Now, Michaela Francesca, you have written your own vows.”

“After I lost John, I was so lost. But his confident cousin came strolling into the house and into my heart. I never thought I would love, but you came and became the most important person in my life. I love the person that I am with you. You enjoy my piano playing skills and know I am shy like your cousin John. But you don’t judge me, you let me be myself and love me anyway. You love my imperfect parts and are among the best people I have ever met. You are beautiful inside and out, and I love you completely,” Francesca said with a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Francesca, I never thought I would settle down. I thought I would go from one woman to the next and play games my whole life. But then I suddenly lost my only family that I had left. That day I also fell in love for the first time. I fell in love with my late cousin's wife. I could not believe I fell in love with his wife of all women. The more I got to know you, the more I fell in love. You made me want to be the best version of myself. I love that you are the best part of me. I love that you love me as much as I love you. I am so happy that I no longer have to be alone. I will have you as my wife, and I am so thankful that you are my family now. I love you, Fran,” Michaela said as she smiled at Francesca.

“Great. Now, Francesca and Michaela repeat after me,” the registrar said.

“I, Francesca Stirling, take you, Michaela Stirling, as my lawful wedded wife. I promise to be faithful, cherish, and love you throughout our lives. I take you as my wife in sickness and in health, till death do us part. With this ring I take thee as my wife,” Francesca said, sliding the ring on Michaela’s finger.

“I, Michaela Stirling, take you, Francesca Stirling, as my lawful wedded wife. To have and to hold throughout our lives together. I promise to be faithful, always cherish you, and stick by your side until death do us part. With this ring, I take thee as my wife,” Michaela said as she slid the ring to Francesca’s ring finger.

“Well, I now pronounce you wives. You may kiss each other,” the registrar said.

Michaela took Francesca’s face in her hands and leaned in to kiss her. Their first kiss as wives was magical. Francesca felt all the love and desire that Michaela had for her. Francesca was excited to spend the rest of her life with Michaela. Michaela was happy to be kissing her wife Francesca. She could not believe that Francesca was her wife. Michaela had the perfect woman in the world as her wife.

The crowd threw confetti at the beautiful wives, and the two walked up the aisle together, hand in hand as wives.

Michaela and Francesca walked into their wedding suite before they went to the wedding reception.

“I can’t believe you’re my wife,” Francesca said.

“Same. I can’t wait for our wedding night tonight. You and me in this bed together. You are my wife now, and nothing will ever tear us apart,” Michaela said.

“I’m so excited to have our wedding night. It will be perfect. We will be united as one in a way we have never been before,” Francesca said.

“Let’s go down to the reception. I think everyone is waiting for us. But first…” Michaela said and kissed Francesca.

Michaela kissed Francesca like she was in the desert and Francesca was the water that she needed to drink. The kiss made Francesca excited for her wedding night. Michaela pulled apart and took Francesca’s hand, and they walked down to the reception.

Michaela and Francesca walked into the reception hall and were greeted with cheers. Everyone was happy to see the wives. Michaela and Francesca walked to the central bridal table, where their family was sitting. There were two seats in the middle of the table for Michaela and Francesca to sit in.

Michaela and Francesca were smiling and enjoying their meal, enjoying the food that they were eating.

“Now it is time for the first dance,” the band's lead singer said.

A slow song that Francesca and Michaela chose as their song started playing. Francesca took Michaela’s arm and led her down the dance floor. Francesca put her arms around Michaela’s waist, and Michaela put her arms around Francesca’s neck.

Francesca and Michaela swayed to the music, staring into each other’s eyes. Michaela was happy that she was dancing with her wife. She wanted to pinch herself as she had never felt so satisfied in her life. Michaela was the happiest bride that ever existed. Francesca loved Michaela, and Michaela no longer had to act the cold, unfeeling rake. She could play the loving, doting wife who was loved in return by her wife.

Francesca loved Michaela with all of her heart. Michaela was loved, and that was all that mattered. Francesca was happy that she had a wife and the unconditional love of a wonderful woman.

Soon, the dance ended, and a rock song started playing. Michaela grabbed Francesca’s hips and danced to the song's beat.

The wedding continued in that measure. Michaela and Francesca had enjoyed their wedding. It was time for them to go to their honeymoon suite and spend their wedding night. It would be perfect.

#bridgerton #bridgertonedit #franchaela #wlw post #wlw yearning #wlw blog #wlw love #wlw #wlw fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic

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samstree · 1 year ago

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Jewel

(obikin, 1.6k, established relationship, also on ao3) Anakin is on painkillers and forgets something important.

Anakin wakes up warm and comfortable, swathed in layers of blankets and wrapped in strong arms.

The world swims, swaying and tipping to one side in the distinctive way of being put on painkillers. He blinks, and blinks again.

“Mmph…” he makes a confused noise, not sure how he ended up here. Or where here is, even.

“Hey, careful.”

Oh, that is the most beautiful voice he has ever heard.

So Anakin looks up, following the source of the voice and meeting the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen.

“Obi-Wan.”

He breathes the name in wonder, heart fluttering, nearly giddy. Of course, it’s Obi-Wan. He is the most beautiful man in the whole galaxy, and Anakin loves him so much even when his head is fuzzy with drugs. He’d know Obi-Wan when he barely remembers his own name. He needs to tell Obi-Wan that, how important he is, how much joy he brings into Anakin’s life, but all that comes out is—

“Obi-Wan, you are…here.”

An amused huff rumbles against Anakin’s ear, and Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle softly. It’s Anakin’s favorite look, when happiness is etched into the lines around his eyes. He reaches out to touch, only to grunt in pain.

“Don’t move just yet. Your shoulder is in quite a state, darling.”

The arms around Anakin hold him closer, securing him in place. He then looks down to find his prosthetic arm tightly bound with a sling. The pain spreads from his shoulder to his chest, dulled like a distant echo.

“But I feel fine.” He nuzzles into Obi-Wan’s neck. The world doesn’t spin as much when he rests against Obi-Wan like this.

“It’s all the painkillers you are on. They had to double the doses, with your metabolism so fast. It’s still not working well enough.” Concern seeps into Obi-Wan’s voice. “Let’s not try anything just now. I’d hate to set your bones again.”

With that, gentle fingers run through Anakin’s hair, almost putting him back to sleep with all the petting and scratching.

A glint of silver catches Anakin’s eyes.

“Oh,” he says, struggling to extract the free arm to catch Obi-Wan’s hand. “What is this?”

He frowns at the silver band resting on the fourth finger of Obi-Wan’s hand, heart growing heavy despite the confusion. He pokes at the thing, the warm metal touching the tip of his index finger.

“It’s my ring, dear one. What are you doing?”

“It’s a wedding ring.”

Anakin turns Obi-Wan’s palm, observing the band intently. His head doesn’t feel like his own, but his memory is still intact. A silver band on the fourth finger, that is Stewjoni tradition to indicate that—"

“You are…married?”

Anakin meant it as an accusation. When did Obi-Wan get married? How? Where? Why does he not know about it? But all that came out of his lips is a sad whisper, voice trembling with hurt.

He meets Obi-Wan in the eye, but only finds surprise there. It’s rather unfair, for Obi-Wan to stare at him like that, as if he’s crazy for asking the question. He’d think he deserves an answer after all this time, the love weighing on his heart, never reciprocated. He is fine with it. He really is. It’s just…

He was still hoping, against all odds.

Now that is gone too.

“Anakin, I—You see, we—”

“But you can’t be.” Anakin shakes his head at the silly idea. “Not you, never you. What was I thinking? To be married, you’d need to leave the Order. My old master would never, not the perfect Jedi.”

He adds a dry laugh in the end for good measure, sounding properly putulent now, but Obi-Wan’s eyes only soften.

“Oh, Anakin, I did leave the Order. I left so I could marry—”

“No, don’t tell me,” he interrupts in a hurry. “I don’t think I can bear it.”

It borders on torture now. Anakin knows because he has been tortured. To know the name of Obi-Wan’s beloved would destroy him. All he wants to do is get away. He cannot stay in Obi-Wan’s arms when they belong to someone else. To steal comfort that doesn’t belong to him is worse than not having it at all.

His eyes brim with tears, and he lets them fall freely.

“Anakin, it’s not like that…”

“Just don’t.” He struggles against Obi-Wan’s hold, voice wet with tears, heedless of his injured shoulder. “I don’t want to hear it. Just let me get out of here—”

“Anakin!”

It’s the desperation in Obi-Wan’s voice that stops his motion. That and the fact that Anakin can barely move his limbs, muscles so relaxed they feel like jelly. The ache returns, deep in his bones, but none of it matters when his face is cupped in gentle hands and the most beautiful eyes are right in front of him.

Anakin is powerless when Obi-Wan’s attention is on him, so close yet so far away.

“Will you listen to me? Let me explain?”

Anakin sniffles, and then answers weakly, “…alright.”

Instead of answering, Obi-Wan takes his flesh hand, threading their fingers together. His motion is so tender, so intimate that it erases every last thought from Anakin’s mind.

“It must be one of the side effects of the drugs.” For some reason, Obi-Wan is sounding too amused for the grave situation they are in. “This will be very funny when you come out of it, dearest. Believe me, I want to enjoy it, but not at your expense when your head is messed up like this. Will you look at your hand? For me, just look at your hand.”

Their hands lay on top of the blankets, skin against skin. When Anakin looks down, there are two silver bands, side by side. One on Obi-Wan’s fourth finger, the other on Anakin’s.

“Huh,” he makes a confused sound. “I’m married too?”

“Against all odds, yes. Master Yoda lost the bet to Master Windu on the big day.”

Anakin blinks, brow furrowed.

“But to who?”

He can’t imagine overcoming the heartache of Obi-Wan devoting himself to someone else, but—

“Will you look at the other side of the rings?”

With that, Obi-Wan takes Anakin’s hand again, flipping over both of their palms to show the underside of the rings. There is a small inscription etched onto each of them. The one on Obi-Wan’s is the traditional Tatooine symbol for “rain”, the pattern often carved into Japor wood and gifted to one’s beloved. Rain is the most precious thing, after all. The inscription on Anakin’s band reads “jewel” in Stewjoni.

But how does he know that? When does he know Stewjoni words?

“Oh,” Anakin hums. He feels as if he’s on the verge of a great discovery, a warmth spreading through his chest like a promise from the past. A vow, maybe. “Oh, Obi-Wan! I see!”

“Really? What do you see?”

Anakin breaks into a big smile. “I don’t know! But I’m so happy!”

Obi-Wan’s laugh is like music to Anakin’s ear. Even though he thinks he’s the one being made fun of, he still loves that laugh.

“I’m glad you are happy,” Obi-Wan says, indulgently, “but what if… I did this?”

He takes Anakin’s flesh hand, and kisses him on the fourth finger, right above the silver band, lips incredibly soft. Anakin’s mouth falls open.

“Still happy?”

Anakin nods so hard that he feels dizzy.

“How about… this?”

Obi-Wan trails a few kisses along the back of Anakin’s hand, reaching the delicate skin at his wrist. He looks up through long lashes, eyes impossibly soft, and then—

And then, he kisses Anakin right on the mouth.

The kiss is chaste and light as a feather. It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second, but the world comes to a stop.

As soon as Obi-Wan breaks away, Anakin gapes again. He can only stare at the smug looks on Obi-Wan’s face. When he leans in, Anakin closes his mouth to kiss him, again, and again.

They draw out another kiss, breathing deep into it, the Force singing around them with how right it feels. Their lips meet in a rhythm so familiar, it’s like a choreographed dance. Anakin melts into the warmth of Obi-Wan’s presence, smiling when the soft beard scratches the corner of his mouth. They finally break apart, and now the world is spinning for an entirely different reason.

“Oh, my dearest.”

Anakin lets out a small gasp at the endearment. He is Obi-Wan’s—

“My beloved,” Obi-Wan murmurs, running a thumb on Anakin’s cheek, palm cradling his chin gently. “Don’t you see? There is no one else. I left the Order for you, so we could marry. I left because you are my joy, my hope, the jewel of my heart… who has forgotten all about our marriage after a few doses of painkillers. Tell me, dearest, what shall I do with you?”

All Anakin can do is stare. He stares as Obi-Wan helps him lean against the pillows and adjust his own position so they can cuddle comfortably. He stares as Obi-Wan peppers more kisses on his arm, his shoulder, hand. He stares as Obi-Wan tucks the stray curls behind his ear, with nothing but love on his face, as if the sight of Anakin brings him all the happiness he could ever ask for.

“We are married?” Anakin asks, feeling silly now but still needing the confirmation. “You… love me?”

Obi-Wan looks like his heart is breaking, just a little. “What can I do to convince you?”

Anakin perks up at that. “Kiss me again?”

“That I can do.” A smile, and Obi-Wan obliges.

They kiss until Anakin is dizzy with love, until his bones are humming with contentment. They kiss until The Force wraps around them tightly, reminding him of the familiar warmth from his memories. Of vows made while their hands intertwine, their hearts beating in tandem.

They kiss until another tear trails down Anakin’s cheek. It’s not nearly as precious as the rain drops on Tatooine, or the jewels of Stewjon, but his beloved kisses it away too.

#obikin #obikin fic

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rememberingliampayne · 8 months ago

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Dear Liam,

When I first discovered One Direction as an 11 year old girl, the band had already gone on hiatus. But it hardly mattered. I was so starstruck, constantly immersing myself in video diaries, music videos, and interviews so fully that it felt as though they were happening in real time. That little girl was so different from who I am now. She grew so much, learned so much. And you and the boys were right there with her the whole time- whether you knew it or not. When I was so insecure I wondered if anyone even cared if i existed, I could always turn on What Makes You Beautiful and remind myself that you loved all your fans. When I felt like I didn't belong anywhere, the comment sections under your video diaries were always full of inside jokes that only us Directioners understood. We had a family. And when I was scared of the future, my feelings too complicated for me to understand or explain, you had a knack for saying it for me, all while reminding me I would be okay. I remember so clearly the feeling of comfort I felt listening to Night Changes for the first time- and it was a feeling I held onto, one you continued to give me no matter where I was in life. I always thought I would have the luxury of continuing to grow up with you. I could see you were struggling, and as much as I worried, I guess I took it for granted that you would always be there. I never thought enough about what it must have been like for you. I don't think I could fully comprehend the weight of it. You sacrificed your childhood for ours, and though I am forever grateful, it breaks my heart. You were just a kid, 16 years old. You just wanted to sing, and to make people happy. And you did. Truly, more than I can explain. This world was far too cruel to you, and you deserved so much better. But despite the unfairness of it all, it comforts me to think that you made beautiful memories as well. I know you were hurting, more than I could ever fully grasp. But I hope more than anything that you still cherished the laughs, joys, and accomplishments you got to feel. You were always a positive person, and something in me tells me you did. I'm so sorry I couldn't help you the way you helped me. I never got to thank you. For being my escape when the world felt too loud. For opening the door to things that were so new to me in the most exciting way. For teaching me so much about the world. For all the laughs, the screams, the jokes, the tears. For the cherished memories, for being a highlight of my childhood and youth. I wish I could have told you all this, but I'm saying it now, now that we've reached the end of this magical and unforgettable chapter of life. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Liam. I will never forget you and all the memories you gave me. I will always miss you. I will always remember, and I will carry you with me throughout my life. I know you will continue to be a part of me and my life forever, I know I will continue to learn from you, and you will continue to give me more than I could ask for. If I am lucky enough to have children one day, I will tell them all about you. You will live on through me and all of us who love you unconditionally, I promise. You were a beautiful soul, and you changed so many lives without even knowing it. I hope you're in a better place now, somewhere you can finally be treated the way you deserve. I hope you know how loved you truly are, and I know you'll be watching down on us, taking care of us the way you always have. It has been such an honour and a blessing to experience my youth with you. Love you, Payno. Sleep tight. Xxx

#liam payne #louis tomlinson #harry styles #niall horan #zayn malik #one direction #rip liam payne

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97ways · 3 days ago

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Writing fanfics is stupid

they say. It's for crazy teens and people who don't have their shit together.

It's one year now that I wrote my first fic and put it up on AO3 for the world to see, and I can't even say how much this has changed my life (spoiler: for the better!). I've been writing my whole life and seriously startet out with - surprise - fanfiction about my favorite band at the age of 12 with a pen and paper, although I didn't know this was a thing at the time AND THERE WERE MORE PEOPLE DOING IT.

Publishing my first fic on AO3 felt like a coming out - and oh, the things I learned, the people I met, the feedback I got! It took a lot of courage, still does, to put the words out there that have come to life in my head and not everyone will like. But fanfiction has made me grow in so many ways. It gave me confidence in my talents, an occupation and a purpose, I made great friends and met other cool and witty authors who teach me new stuff every day.

After one year and 280k published words total I want to say that I'm so thankful for everything I found in this community - on- and offline. Publishing challenges my fears every time again, but there's nothing I want more and nothing that brings as much joy and relief as when I give my characters into the hands of the readers, who are the most kind and supportive people and I love them with all my heart.

So, happy anniversary to me I guess. And if fanfiction is stupid - I'll be your happy fool! 🫶💫❤️

#fanfiction #fanfic #writerscommunity #writing #i love writing #fanfic appreciation #be proud #writers and poets #ao3 writer #love #anniversary

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vladdysims · 2 months ago

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List 5 (or more, or less) of your non-Sims interests. They can be hobbies, shows, books, other games, etc.

Thank you for the tag @mariapaulaaah ♥

Alice in Borderland: It's my favourite TV show and manga series by far. After finishing season 2 on Netflix I was determined to get my hands on the English version of the manga, and thanks to the wonderful libraries around I managed to read all of them. I would like to buy the books one day to have my own copies, but not right now, as I can't afford it and don't really have the space for them either. I'm looking forward to season 3 coming out later this year, even though I have no clue how it's going to be since season 2 finished the same way as the manga. They might be coming up with new ideas for it. I just hope it's still as good.

The GazettE: My favourite band since I was 10 years old. I still remember watching their Cockroach PV on my old Windows XP computer on the old version of YouTube and immediately loving these men and their music. I'm still gutted that their bassist passed away last year, but I'm glad they're still going because their music was there for me at my darkest times when I was growing up. I would love to go to one of their concerts should they do another world tour, and thank them personally for it one day.

The goth subculture: I'm also a huge fan of goth music and goth fashion and makeup. I wear all black most of the time but I don't really go all out with my looks as much as I used to when I was younger because I don't really go out anymore. However when I do have the opportunity to go somewhere interesting I love playing around with my makeup and wearing my black dresses and tights and platform shoes. Other than that, if I'm just lounging at home or going to the store to pick something up or heading to the library to drop off and pick up more books, you'll probably find me in black leggings, a band shirt, and a black hoodie. The goth subculture is more than just how you look though. Apart from goth music such as The Cure, Lebanon Hanover, Bauhaus, Joy Division, and She Wants Revenge, I'm also a big fan of gothic literature such as the writings of Edgar Allan Poe, and Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and Dracula by Bram Stoker. I'm also a fan of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier after studying it back in secondary school.

Writing: I don't do it as much anymore, but I wish I did. As a child I used to love writing stories for school, and as a teen I used to write a lot of (pretty cringeworthy) poetry. I try to write nowadays but I don't really have the creative spark I once had anymore (probably due to grief and mental illness).

Reading: I love books, and I love losing myself in a good book. As a child I was an avid reader, as a teen I still read but started drifting away from it, then in my late teens I sort of stopped caring about it. I started reading often again in my early twenties and nowadays I try to read every single day, especially before bed as I find it helps me relax. Reading has become part of my daily routine again like it was when I was a child, and I'm really glad because books are a great escape from the horrible realities of real life.

Honorable mentions: Sanrio (but especially Kuromi), Frutiger Aero (sweet, sweet nostalgia), and frogs (if something has a frog on it and I can afford it, I'm buying it).

I tag @denaesimmy @moonlitfalls @bluecodexs @nova-kim and whoever else sees this and wants to do it ♥

#non sims

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rodeoxqueen · 2 years ago

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Can I have a sequal 2 da Dante x Reader birth to his darughter…. Lik what he iz lik after his daughter iz b0rn and what his wife (y/n) is like

Sure thing.

-Rodeo.

Loves his daughter. Loves her very much.

Definitely extremely protective over her since he is the infamous son of Sparda and she the granddaughter.

Sings her old bar tunes from his younger more degenerate years.

Definitely gets a little more serious when he has his daughter but only because he’s terrified of anything happening to her.

Picks up little trinkets for her.

When she was younger and teething she’d cry over sore gums and Dante would slip her a crust of pizza to gum away at when you weren’t looking.

He sucks at cooking but he can make simple things for her.

Dante would love his wife like it was his first time ever seeing her every day.

Becomes very domestic.

Will wake up later than the two of you in the mornings but makes it his job to scoop the two of you up once he makes it to the kitchen where you’re making breakfast.

His daughter will have a phase where she is disgusted by how deeply in love the two of you are. She also thought your real name was either babe or sugar for a while.

He’s got trauma from his childhood and how abruptly it ended so he’ll never want his little girl to grow up too fast. He tries to keep the ugliness of the world away from her as much as he can.

Dante’s daughter will sneak away from curfew to join her old man on missions and eventually Dante realizes he can’t keep her away from his bounty hunter life.

His wife, oh his wife.

He loves wearing his ring. A simple silver band with your name engraved.

His wife would have to be very nurturing but tough. He wouldn’t put a woman through his life unless he knew she could handle it.

He likely wouldn’t trust a civilian and would probably prefer a woman who also knew of the demon world and how to eradicate her weight in devils.

However, the two of you quickly fall into domestic life together, especially with the child.

You’d be understanding when he came home too late but his daughter is very much a daddy’s girl and would jump for joy at his return.

Drinks in front of his daughter and when she’s older she’ll make fun of him or steal his handles when she has her friends over.

Wants to be a cool dad but knows kids these days aren’t as easily impressed as they used to be.

His wife definitely grounds Dante from going too low and shooting too high. He struggles with both.

He really needs a ride or die but please don’t die. His worst fear is ending up like his mother in that sense where he’ll have to raise your daughter alone. ;(.

Once puberty happens and all of a sudden daddy’s girl doesn’t want to be near him at all and is always rolling her eyes, he’s devastated. He’s just glad she has a good relationship with you at least during that era so he at least can hear how she’s doing from a second source.

“No please not the teenage angst. She gets it from me.”

Will blow his top if he catches her being disrespectful to you.

His daughter after a terrible fight will find him later with a bourbon in hand and a photo book of her baby photos. He asks her to sit down and tells her-

“I know things aren’t very good between us right now but if anything, anything happened to you…I wouldn’t know what to do.”

A little goes a long way and the two are quick to go back to being close.

Will spend money he doesn’t have on her. She would be spoiled if you as her mother didn’t set boundaries.

Won’t take it easy on her sparring wise since she’s a quarter demon and needs to know how to strut her trigger when she needs it. The tough love pays off.

All in all, Dante desperately wants to be a good father and be present at everything. He’ll want to involve himself in everything she’s up to and is willing to invite him to.

Most likely, he’ll find himself extremely happy in this new family of his, of strong loving women who take no shit.

Please let Dante settle down and be happy Capcom I ain’t gonna keep begging.

#devil may cry #dante x reader #devil may cry headcanons #dante #dmc5 #devil may cry imagines #dante imagines #dante headcanons #daddy dante #female reader

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builtbybrokenbells · 2 years ago

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Gold Dust Woman | Epilogue

A quick glimpse into the future.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: tooth rotting sweetness 🫶🏻

I couldn’t end this series without some fluff, come on now. Hopefully Jake lane takes this as a sufficient apology for breaking your hearts for a while 😁 thank you all for being the best, and as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes.

It’s astounding just how much can change in a year and six months. Your home, although decorated the same, was completely rid from the demons of loneliness that once haunted the building. If you looked hard enough, you could see the areas that once appeared empty beginning to fill with memories of love. Pictures hung in expensive frames, small items littered on counters and shelves to remind you that behind the door, it was no longer just your own life contained inside, it was two. Shampoo bottles standing side by side in the shower, two toothbrushes sitting beside the sink, and two coffee mugs always paired together no matter dirty or clean. A Les Paul and an SG always taking post in the living room, illuminated by the sunlight during the day and blanketed with moonlight during the night. A record collection that had doubled in size, and a bed that only ever previously had one messy side was now in constant disarray. Your clothes no longer littered the floors by their lonesome, because there were plenty of button-ups and t-shirts from another wardrobe to keep them company.

In a year and six months, your house was completely different from the one it used to be. It was filled with laughter, light, and a promise of forever. It was something you never thought the world would bless you with, yet it seemed to surprise you more every day. Although more messy, your home was more inviting than it had ever been. You owed it all to one person, and it was not yourself. Jake had made the sorrow excuse for a wooden shack into your most favourite place in the entire world. He had filled up every empty corner with materialistic items, and the rest with his heart to remind you that as long as he was living, you would never need to be alone again.

It was also intriguing to see just how little things changed in the same time period. You thought that after eighteen months of the same thing every day, you might become bored or outgrow the habits you had fallen into, but neither were true. Your heart still sang with joy each morning, and your body still felt the same peace as it did the day he asked you to be his girlfriend. You worried that the happiness would wear off and you would find yourself stuck in the misery you had been so familiar with your entire life, yet it never made a return. As much as you feared change that might come, it was only proven further with every day that passed that the rest of your life was destined to be just as it was; happy, comfortable, and prosperous. You were eternally grateful for the stability, and you hoped to live in the bubble of elation for the rest of your days.

After the tour came to an end, you all packed up your things with worry about the future. Gold Dust Woman as a band had no plans, yet a following that was steadily growing larger as time went on. Greta Van Fleet was large in their popularity, destined for more fame without a doubt about it. With a new relationship, you feared that distance might add a pressure to your life that you were not equipped to handle, but when the homecoming plane landed, it only took a few moments to decide that Jake would be moving in with you. There was not a hesitation in the process, and it comforted you to know that even if he was gone, he was still all around you.

Finding inspiration in your own leap of faith, Danny and Dylan followed your footsteps not too long after. With your personal lives settled, you thought that as a next step, recording music would be your newest and most exciting adventure. You were not wrong in assuming so, and within the first six months, you had ten songs prepared and awaiting for your first ever EP as a band. You were picked up by a label in no time, and the producing process began. It was a tedious time of relentless marketing and interviews, including a few more gigs for short tours as an opening act for other bands. Now, with the PR out of the way and a team of your own, you were anxiously awaiting the arrival of your very first physical copy of your own record.

Midway through your journey with touring, you had taken a small break to come home and spend time with Jake before he left for his own tour. During your visit, you were pleased to find out that Sam had met someone who turned his world upside down. You were lucky enough to meet her and discover that she was everything he had ever dreamed of, and he was happier than you had ever seen him before. Thus began your quick work at repairing your friendship, finding it incredibly easy to open yourselves back up to each other and return to what you used to be before the brothers relentless conquest for your heart. The world seemed perfect, and although the hurt you experienced during the battle was debilitating, the damage was minimal compared to the prosperity of the future. The scars were white, long gone from memory and replaced by stretch marks that formed from being so full of love and happiness.

You had always been the type to gag at the thought of a fairytale ending, yet now that you were living amidst one, you could finally understand why so many people craved it so desperately. You could not imagine returning to the lifestyle you lived before Jake, because it all seemed bleak and depressing. Constantly searching for a thrill, never having the nerve to speak your truth, never knowing where you were going or where you would end up. It was sickening to recall, and even on your hardest days, or when you went weeks without being able to touch him, your life with Jake was beyond anything you had ever felt or lived before. He was your forever, and your only worry was that you didn’t have enough time in one lifespan to love him. You worried that there wasn’t enough time in the entire universe to love Jake the way he deserved, but you tried your hardest to be the best you could be for him, because god knows he was doing it for you.

You were sat on the couch of your living room, pondering over the empty space that seemed to be growing larger by the day. Jake’s SG was long gone from its stand, and had been for weeks. He was travelling the world and doing what he loved, and you were so happy for him, yet it did not take away from the fact that you missed him terribly. Each day it seemed like the minutes passed slower, and you were counting every second until he walked through the front door. You only had a few more days to go, but you were beginning to believe you wouldn’t survive it. Phone calls and texts only went so far, and you missed his company more than you cared to admit.

A show was playing softly on the television, but you were no longer invested in the screen. You were writing in your journal, hoping to finish some lyrics for a new song you had started. There was an incense smouldering away on the windowsill, the smoke sending a peaceful haze across the room and leaving a calming aroma in the air. The sun was twinkling through the windows, wrapping around the blinds you had pulled across and sending rays through the emptiness of the room. It was cozy, comfortable, yet seemed to be missing something. You knew that feeling would flee as soon as Jake was back home and sitting on the couch beside you. Your coffee cup beside you was spewing pathetic spurts of steam, long forgotten in your mind and destined to be remembered once it was too cold to enjoy.

You snapped from your thoughts, hearing the door open and keys jingling softly. You figured it must be Dylan; she had a spare key and used it quite often when both of your boyfriends were gone off on tour. The loss of constant companionship was made easier with a best friend like her, because she was always willing to help pass the time. Whether it was playing music, or going for brunch, or even just existing together, she was always down for it. She had taken Danny’s place in the routine Sunday Brunches when he was unable to make it, and you weren’t shy in admitting that she did a great job at making them just as fun. Sometimes, when the boys were free from work, the four of you would go together and fill the afternoon with casual drinks and laughter. No matter what, you were constantly surrounded with family, and it was more fantastic than you ever imagined it to be. Sometimes, chosen family was far beyond anything blood relatives could provide, and they outweighed every expectation that you had. You had no idea where you would be without them.

You stood, figuring you could be kind enough to greet her at the door. When you rounded the corner into the kitchen and stepped into the hallway, your heart nearly exploded straight from your chest. At the front door, with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box in the other, Jake was standing alone, surrounded with breathtaking beauty as always. He looked up at you, a blinding smile taking over his face, letting you know he was just as excited to see you. “Surprise.” He whispered, kicking his shoes off and walking to meet you. You took off in a sprint, too excited to care about your childish behaviour, and nearly tackled him with the strength in which you hugged him. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you as best he could with the items in his hands. “I missed you, angel.” He placed a kiss to your head, savouring the sweetness for as long as he could.

“What are you doing home so early?” You asked, although the words came out quite muffled due to your face being buried in his chest. The familiar scent was overpowering, holding you captive and intoxicating you immediately. Sandalwood, but it was no longer laced with the implications of sin; it was home, and it was the most sacred of all.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.” He admitted, drawing back from you only slightly. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m so glad I did, because something came in the mail.” He grinned, reminding you of the box he was holding in his hand.

“Is that what I think it is?” Your eyes were glistening with excitement, knowing that he was wondering the same thing.

“Let’s find out.” He said, nodding his head down the hallway. Together, you walked into the kitchen and he set the package on the table. He let his bag drop to the ground before he went off in search of a vase for the flowers.

“I can do that,” you offered, practically vibrating at the thought of what was inside the box. He shook his head, reaching into a cupboard and grabbing the item he had been looking for. He filled it with water, carefully removing the flowers from the brown paper wrapping and setting them inside. He placed them on the table before kissing you on top of the head.

“Are you gonna open it?” He asked, looking down at your nervous hands settled on top of the package.

“I’m scared.” You chuckled, trying to stop the tremors in your fingers.

“Don’t be.” He said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. “We’ll do it together.”

“Yeah, together.” You nodded, picking up the box and slowly pulling back the tape. You balled it up, tossing it down on the table as you opened up the flaps. On top of a mound of bubble wrap sat a card. You pulled it out, looking inside all while feeling like you could throw up. You read over the words written inside, feeling the anxiety morph into excitement. “That’s sweet.” You smiled, setting the card by the flowers. It was a note of congratulations from your label, making sure you were well informed of the huge milestone you had achieved. You slowly picked out the bubble wrap, setting it to the side while drawing in a long breath.

Your gaze fell over the cover of the vinyl record, immediately prompting tears in your eyes. You took a step back, letting out a shaky laugh as you dried your eyes. Jake looked back at you, more proud than he had ever been in his entire life. “You did that, sweetheart.” He said, unable to contain his own excitement. You could hear his tone wavering as he tried to hold back his own tears, only sending you spiralling even further. He pulled you into another hug, allowing you to air out your surge of emotions.

After a moment, you reached into the box and pulled it out. The cover was gold, shimmering under the sunlight flowing in from the windows. ‘Gold Dust Woman’ was embossed on the surface in pitch black lettering, standing out from the background. You flipped it over, looking over the track list. At the very bottom in small print, you could see the production rights trademarked by your company. “That’s me,” you squeaked, pointing at your name alongside Dylan and Riley’s. “That’s my name.”

“It is,” he laughed, leaning in to get a closer look at it. “I’m so proud of you, y/n. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the record from the sleeve to cement the reality of the situation. “I couldn’t have done it without you, baby.” He let out a scoff, shaking his head at your statement.

“You can do anything you put your mind to, sweetheart. All I do is cheer you on.” You looked up at him, love surrounding the two of you as hearts danced in your eyes. You leaned up, almost forgetting the record in your hand while you were in his company. There was nothing quite as captivating as Jake, and he seemed to outshine everything else. You kissed him, pouring all of your emotion into him and telling him all you needed to just from the small action.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You mumbled against his lips. “I missed you so much.”

“I’m happy to be home.” He said, smiling against you as he kissed you again. It seemed like the two of you could never get enough of each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Now, are you going to listen to it, or what?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, looking back to the album in your hand. “In a minute.”

“Go, I’ll be right here when you come back.” He chuckled at your unwillingness to leave.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Never,” he said, his tone telling you that his statement was final and not up for debate.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You said, rushing off to the living room. You carefully placed the record down on the couch, removing the vinyl that was sitting on the player and placing it back in the proper sleeve. You took out your own, gently placing it down and then putting the needle on the surface. You turned the volume up and the television off, waiting for a moment while the static turned into music. You heard a clear drum beat fill the air before your guitar joined in, followed by a clear bass line. You were thrilled, the sound better than you ever imagined it could be. You couldn’t believe that it was really your song playing over the speaker, but it was real, and it was the most exhilarating feeling you had ever experienced. “Jake, do you hear this!?” You shouted, cheeks aching from the permanent smile stuck on your face.

“I hear it, angel.” He replied, but he sounded occupied with something else. “I almost forgot, I have something else for you.” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused at what else he could possibly have for you. “Come here for a minute.”

“Okay,” you said, confusion evident in your tone. You made your way back to the kitchen, a bubble of anxiety rising in your stomach. He sounded distant, nervous almost as he called out to you. You had never known Jake to be anything less than self-assured even when he was wrong, and you were curious about what was so heavy on his mind that it changed his normal routine. When you first entered the room, you didn’t see him straight away.

You were confused at his whereabouts, knowing that his voice had been coming from the kitchen, yet you didn’t see him standing in his previous spot. You walked around the table, freezing in your tracks almost immediately. Your eyes went wide as your heart dramatically thudded against your rib cage. Jake was on one knee, hands shaking as he held a small velvet box in his hands. “Oh, god, Jake.” You breathed, bringing your hand over your chest to sooth your erratic heartbeat.

“That doesn’t sound very good.” He gave a nervous chuckle, just as scared as you were about the whole thing.

“No!” You shook your head, easing his mind before he descended too far into his own thoughts. “Not like that, just… wow.”

“I was going to wait, but I couldn’t. I don’t want to wait anymore, y/n.” He spoke so softly that his voice barely broke through the air. “I’ve known since the day I met you, so I don’t see a point in putting it off. I want to spend forever with you, if you want it, too. You are my whole heart, the reason I can get out of bed in the morning and the only thing that helps me sleep through the night. You’re my best friend, the absolute love of my life, and I can’t think of a single reason why I wouldn’t want to be yours forever.” He said, watching your face carefully in case there was any chance you didn’t want what he was offering. “I don’t want to sit and watch while the rest of our lives pass us by. It would be the greatest honour to marry you, Gold Dust Woman.”

You took a step towards him, cautious for no real reason. Part of you believed that it was a figment of your imagination, because his love often seemed too good to be true. You thought over his words, only feeling your heart swell with more affection the longer you remembered. He was right, and there was no reason in the world as to why you should be afraid of saying yes. He was your forever, and you’d known that long before you ever admitted it to yourself. He loved you like no other, so well that sometimes you forgot what it was like before he came along. Your life was picturesque with him by your side, something you had only ever heard about in movies and books, yet it was your reality that you were lucky enough to live every single day. He was everything, and you were beyond grateful to even exist in the same universe as him.

You realized your silence had given the wrong impression, noticing the shift in his expression as he began to turn worried. “Yes, Jake.” You said, hoping to ease his mind. “A million times yes.” You said, moving forward and kneeling down in front of him. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my life, and there is nobody that could make me as happy as you do.” You said, grabbing his face gently between your hands. You pulled him into a kiss filled with love and warmth, just like the rest of your memories with him. You could barely keep the kiss alive, the smiles on your faces too much to handle. When you pulled away, he took the ring from the box and slipped it on your finger, trying his hardest to hold back his tears of elation. “It’s beautiful,” you fawned over the sight, taking in every detail the ring had to offer.

“But it doesn’t hold a candle to you, angel.” He said, looking back up at your face. “I promise I’m going to love you like you deserve until the day I die, and I’m sure that I’ll still love you the same even long after I’m gone. In every universe, and every lifetime. You’re the only thing my heart knows, Gold Dust Woman.”

“Me too, baby.” You promised, feeling your lip quiver from the profound confession. “So, this is forever?”

“Seems like it.” He laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can’t get rid of me, now.”

“Not like I ever could before.” You teased, running your thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. “And it’s not like I ever wanted to, anyway.” And it was the truth; not a day passed in which you wished to change a thing, because a lifetime of loving Jake was better than anything you had ever dreamed of.

The End

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