#(not in the next week or so though. god. i have to write three papers between now and then.)

[apocalypticdemon]

wondering out loud, but do people usually post snippets from fics they're working on just apropos of nothing? is this a thing that's normal? i feel like i've seen it done, but i'm unsure if that's typical or not

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was in third grade I got Weird with writing. It makes sense in hindsight. Oppressed people find their own ways of carving out space for themselves.

The first bit I did landed me in trouble more immediately. I was given, god knows by who, one of those enormous giant pencils. I loved it. My tiny nine year old body was consumed with love of this pencil that was roughly 1/3 of my height. I insisted that I would only use this pencil in school.

It was an unlucky year to be stricken with whimsy. My third grade teacher was a tyrannical Japanese woman fueled by her dislike of children. I suspect the cultural divide between how she expected children to behave and the reality of American children broke her.

She was three foot nothing and getting berated by her was the first time I’d ever looked down at an adult. I also saw her once standing next to her white 6’ behemoth of a husband and tried to conceptualize how two such disparate people had sex. I never could.

If you think I’m exaggerating her wrath it’s worth noting that my best friend at the time developed a stress disorder from this woman and I fell into a bizarre stutter that cleared up the moment I was out of class. In her classroom breaking down crying was a weekly occurrence.

But despite the frigid conditions, I persevered. I stayed silly. I brought my enormous novelty pencil to class every day. It was an act of rebellion that I sank my teeth into and refused to let go. I could barely sharpen it because its girth defied standard sharpeners the way I defied my teacher. This was my pencil.

When she attempted to confiscate my giant pencil I rose an unholy ruckus. This would not turn into the confiscated holographic Charizard, my tamagotchi, or my little pop frogs that she never returned to me. No. This was my goddamn pencil. There was no rules against enormous novelty pencils and after a heated week of debate she finally conceded I could use the hated thing.

It was stolen by my kleptomaniac friend a week or so after that a fact I’d only discover at the end of the year. But my tiny mind was convinced the evil teacher had stolen it.

In retaliation, instead of resuming normal behavior I decided that I would do all my writing upside down and backwards. No one, least of all myself, could explain why I felt this was necessary. Maybe I felt I’d be cool like a spy, maybe I just needed to buck the teachers hateful authority, or maybe I was just a little autistic kid.

When taking notes or writing essays I’d arrange the paper to be upside down. It may surprise you to know that my penmanship was actually quite decent, albeit I wrote a little more slowly than my classmates. That’s why it took the teacher a while to realize what was going on. There wasn’t a drop in the quality of my writing.

Unsurprisingly she hated it when she found out. She lambasted me both privately and in front of the class to write normally. I asked if my writing was illegible. She had to admit that no, it was not. I shrugged. I did not see a problem.

Like the pencil my new writing fixation was cited as being a distraction to the other children. But similarly she didn’t have an easy way to make me stop. She marked me down, gave me several talking tos, and generally bullied me into writing like everyone else.

All attempts at correcting me simply ran off my back. I had found a way to cope with how miserable she made all of us, by inflicting misery back upon her. I was unswayed for the rest of the year.

When I graduated up into fourth grade and had a teacher I adored it suddenly stopped. I looked at the paper and thought, Well that’s silly, and flipped it the right way round.

I can still write upside down, though, a testament to my worst year in public school.

[hllywdwhre]

My Darling Boy

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Irish!fem!reader

Summary: Tommy’s late night leads to you comforting him and a recount of the first time you realized you loved him.

Warnings: Panic attacks, reader faces anti-Irish sentiment from a stranger, Tommy says some questionable things about the Irish but nothing too bad💀, violence, bar fight. Let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 2.8K

Notes: This was 100% inspired by @red-write-hand ‘s Tommy bot. My god do I love that thing and fluff it gives me. I tried keeping this as reader friendly as possible, but some details had to be added to fit the plot, such as reader being Irish.

Edit: This has not been proofread and YIKES. Sorry for all the errors😭

Flashbacks are italicized!

You stared at the clock on your wall that read 2:07 AM. Tommy was supposed to be in bed three hours ago. It was your agreement. He could work as late as he wanted as long as he ate all three meals with you and came to bed at 11. The resolve had come almost a year ago when you’d finally told him you, his wife, felt like second place to his work.

But here it was. 2AM, your bed felt cold without him there, and this was the third time this week that he hadn’t come to bed on time.

You tried not to argue with him. He had enough stress with work and you didn’t want to be a source of more stress, but you had his same quick temper and you couldn’t deny that you were more than irritated that he was seemingly back to his old ways of ignoring your agreement.

You made your way down the hall and to his office, leaning against the door frame.

Tommy spoke before you could, “I know what you’re about to say.”

The exhaustion in his voice and the way he looked… defeated immediately caused a change of heart in you, though.

“My darling boy,” you said in a soft voice, making sure to use the pet name you had for him to try and avoid him thinking you were there for an argument.

“Don’t ‘my darling boy’ me,” he replied immediately with a bite in his tone, “Not when you’re here to start an argument with me. What time is it?”

You’d known Tommy since he came back from The Great War. You knew more than well enough by now to not take his words to heart when he was like this. He was taking his anger out on you, whether you deserved it or not.

You had blinded men and taken their tongues using the bladed Peaky Blinders cap for speaking to you the way Tommy was speaking to you, but Tommy was your soft spot. Somehow, you always remained calm when it came to Tommy.

You made your way over to his desk and picked up the empty whiskey glass that was next to a stack of papers that littered his desk.

“It’s 2 in the morning, my love,” you replied in a calm voice. You walked over to the fireplace where his bottle of whiskey sat and refilled the glass then placed it on the desk again.

He picked it up as soon as you set it down and took a long drink from it.

“I have work, you know that. The business doesn’t run itself.” He took another swallow of the liquid and you could see the way his breathing had picked up slightly.

It started to make sense in that moment. You knew Tommy as well as he knew you and as well as you knew yourself. You knew the signs of one of his panic attacks beginning and stepped between him and his desk.

“I know that. I’m not mad at you, darling,” you replied after a moment. You made sure to keep your voice the steady and calm tone you knew he needed at the moment as you spoke. “Can you look at me?”

Tommy took a deep breath before looking up at you and you could see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with the way his eyes seemed unable to focus on you. You lifted your hand to his cheek and gently ran your thumb across it in a slow motion.

“What’s your full name?” You asked him. The questions you would ask him changed from time-to-time so he wouldn’t get too used to them. They were simple questions, enough to distract him and get him to focus on you, but not enough to send him into a further panic.

“Thomas Michael Shelby, why?” He raised the glass to his lips again, but his breathing only picked up more.

You took the glass from his hand and set it on the desk behind you then placed his hand on your chest, right where you knew he would be able to feel your heartbeat.

“Focus on my breathing and my voice. What’s John’s wife’s name?” You asked him next.

You watched as he closed his eyes and did as you said, trying to match his breathing to yours as you began taking slower and deeper breaths.

“Esme,” he answered after a moment.

“When’s our wedding anniversary?” You asked next.

”The 17th of August.”

You knew it was silly, but you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks at how quickly and easily he answered that question. It was the little things like that which reminded you that you were still his number one priority.

“Can you look at me again?” You asked him once you noticed his breathing had calmed down.

Tommy looked to you, his blue eyes immediately finding your eyes and locking onto them. The corner of his mouth tilted into a small smirk and you returned it with a small smile of your own.

“I love you,” you told him as you crawled into his lap and pulled him into a hug, trying to help ground him more.

He immediately returned your hug and buried his head into your neck. Your hands instinctively rose to the back of his head and gently ran your nails across the shaved part of it.

“I love you, too. Even when I’m a mess,” he replied quietly.

“You’re not a mess,” you argued immediately, “you’re my amazing husband, an amazing business leader, an amazing member of parliament, and the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

A sigh left his lips after a long moment and his head remained buried in your neck. His breathing was no longer panicked and he had relaxed into your hold completely.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered into your neck.

“Funny,” you said with a chuckle, “I think the same thing of me.” You moved your head enough so you could kiss his temple. “Love you with all my heart, Thomas Shelby. You’re my darling boy.”

As soon as the pet name left your lips, he was chuckling into your neck. It was one anyone else would be maimed for calling him, but somehow you saying it had won him over.

“Love you, too,” he murmured in response.

After a couple long minutes of the two of you curled into each other, and once you were sure he wouldn’t panic speaking of it, you asked him,

“What led to it?”

He immediately knew what you were asking and shook his head in your neck,

“Nothing,” he replied in a defeated voice.

You pulled back enough to cause him to raise his head and she the quirked brow you were giving him,

“Thomas Shelby, what do you tell me every time I try to say the same thing?”

Any time you tried to belittle your problems, Tommy was the one who was telling you that if it was causing you troubles, then it wasn’t nothing and it was worth talking about.

He grumbled something under his breath about using his own words against him and then finally answered.

“The bloody Irish,” he said loud enough for you to hear.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your lips. You knew Tommy knew better than to think she was laughing at him or her problems; you were simply laughing at the irony of it all.

“What have my people done now?” You asked, purposefully making your accent come out as thick as possible to pick on him.

“Made an illegal shipment without our say so,” Tommy replied and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Well… we’ve never liked to obey the English. I think my ancestors are rolling in their graves at how soft I am with you,” you teased, hoping to get at least a chuckle out of him.

It worked and you could feel the way his body shook the slightest bit as the small laugh left him,

“You’re not soft, darling, you’re just civilized,” he teased in return.

You pulled away with a look of mock offense on your face,

“Hey, now! My people are very civilized, we just know how to have fun,” you told him.

You know Tommy held no actual disdain towards you or your Irish blood. He himself was part Irish. He only spoke this way around you to get under your skin and pick on you.

“If you call bar fights being civilized then sure, darling.” The smirk on his face told you he was still only teasing you.

You scrunched up your nose as you looked at him,

“Maybe not your strongest point, love. I’ve come home with a black eye from an English bar fight where, for once, I was genuinely an innocent bystander and I had to keep you from going after half of Small Heath,” you pointed out.

Tommy’s face immediately darkened at the memory of that night and he tried to stutter out some defense of how it was different, but you shook your head no.

“You know that was the night I realized I loved you?” You told him as your own version of the memories flitted through your mind and you tried to distract him from the darker thoughts of his mind.

Your words seemed to catch him off guard and he looked up at you with surprise written on his features.

“Really?” He asked, unsure how else to reply.

You nodded in response and you felt another deep blush creep onto your cheeks. One thing you and Tommy had in common was that vulnerability didn’t come natural to you.

“Would you care to know how I remember that night?” You asked to which he nodded. “It was after a day of shopping with Ada and Esme. You and I had been together for three months at that point, and Ada and Esme were sure we were going to end up getting married, so they wanted to make sure I knew I was part of the family.”

You knew he knew all of this, but you wanted to tell him the whole story of how you had come to the realization and what had happened leading up to the fight.

”After we were done shopping, Esme had John meet us up at The Garrison so we could all have a drink.”

The three of you stumbled through the doors of the pub, giggling over something Ada had said.

John motioned the three of you over to the table he was sitting at, already having ordered a round of drinks for you. It was the first time you had sat outside of the private room the Shelbys had, and the last.

In the middle of the three of you telling John about the new dress Ada had bought, someone who’d had one too many drinks came stumbling over.

“I don’t get you Shelbys. You serve your country in the war then associate with some Irish scum,” he spat out, motioning from John to you.

You had met the other Shelbys while Arthur, Tommy, and John were in France. Polly had needed a bookkeeper for the betting shop and had taken you, even vouching for you when they had returned. After a year of working with them, one incident where you had been used as bait that had gone too far, and you’d been forced to defend yourself, Tommy had decided to make you an official Peaky Blinder. You may not wear your Peaky cap, but the bladed item was also on you. Offers had been made to hide blades in other women’s items of clothing, but you had denied. You had learned how to hide the cap among scarves, shawls, or in your bags and you wanted the official Peaky Blinders symbol.

John had immediately jumped to your defense that night in The Garrison.

“She’s a damn Peaky Blinder and has been for years! She can be trusted as well as any Englishman or woman.” He had defended, standing up to meet the man eye-to-eye as a warning to leave.

“Do you know who you’re talking about?” Ada said next, standing up also, “Irish or not, she’s Tommy’s girl and a Blinder.”

“I don’t give a shit if she’s Tommy’s current whore or not. She’s Irish scum and I don’t want to be in a pub with the likes of her,” the man spat back at Ada.

Esme and you both stood up at this and the rest of the pub had silenced as they watched the scene unfold. Seemingly out of thin air, a couple other Blinders that were present came to stand beside John as he told the man to leave the pub while he could still see the door.

Next thing you knew, Esme had pulled you harshly out of the way as a glass shattered against the wall behind you.

Chaos broke out immediately. Despite you trying to fight against them, a couple patrons or other members of the Peaky Blinders (you weren’t sure which) had tried to drag you, Ada, and Esme back to the office. During the mix, a blow landed on your cheek and you quickly swung back.

The fight seemed to halt immediately after. Even if the guy was brave enough to harass you for being Irish, throw a glass at your head, and fight John over everything, everyone else seemed to realize the grave mistake that had been made in that moment.

No one touched Thomas Shelby’s woman, and there she was with a bruise already evident on her cheek.

John grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck like he was nothing more than a rabid dog, called for you to follow him, and called for Esme and Ada to be walked back to the betting shop and for all the members of the Peaky Blinders present to go there, also.

You walked with John to the canal and were told by John that you ‘could do the honors of killing the bastard’ yourself.

After the deed was done, the two of you had walked back to the betting shop and arrived at the same time as Tommy.

You remembered the worry on his face as he looked for you, the anger that took over when he spotted the black eye, him screaming at everyone to give him an answer as to what had happened and who had harmed you, and the way he had pulled you into his arms in a hug that nearly crushed you.

You remembered the feeling of safety that washed over you once you were in his arms, the feeling of home, and the way you were able to ignore the chaos around you as others explained what exactly had happened that night.

You remembered the way he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you until he had personally looked you over for any injuries.

You remembered the look he had when you told him you’d killed the man. The disappointment over not being the one to do it himself, but the pride in you standing up for yourself.

“I remember being absolutely terrified when it finally clicked in my head what I was feeling. I have never feared you, but I was terrified of ever getting my heart broken again. I knew Esme and Ada had said they were sure we would be married, but my own insecurities came into play, and I was terrified you’d realize how much of a mess I could be and you’d leave me,” you told him, leaned in and kissing him softly for a moment before continuing on, “You never left me. Even when we’ve fought, you never let me feel like you were going to leave me. I learned that no matter what happened, you’d move the earth, heavens, and hells to make sure you always came back to me.”

Tommy remained silent as you finished your story. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but it seemed you had actually managed to make the man speechless.

“I love you, Thomas Michael Shelby,” you muttered as you leaned in to kiss him again, “I meant it the first time I said those words, when I accepted your proposal, when we said them at the altar, when I say them now, and every time in between. You’re my darling boy through it all.”

His hand came up to cup your face and he rested his forehead against yours, “I’ve meant them all, too. You’re mine until the end of time.”

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Twenty One

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: This entire chapter will be in Angel's POV! Hence the gif! Now before any of y'all ask, no! This isn't a love triangle chapter. Its about a girl who meets someone that has gone through the same thing she has and they have a moment together where they help each other over come those evil parts of their pasts (Platonically) Two people finding their "friendship" soulmates, if ya will.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses

READER

I sat on my bed with the notebook perched on my lap with papers and discarded pens all over my bedroom. Salem curled up on my pillow next to me, his purring an eerily calm background noise as it combined with the scratching of my pen on paper. 

“I know it’s colder where I’m at,” I muttered in a soft tune. 

Ew, no not that. 

I scratched through the words with such force it ripped through the paper. 

“Fuck,” I cursed while tossing the book onto the floor then rubbed ink-stained hands over my face. 

I went through four different pens by now and changed the paper from my spiral notebook to printer paper. I had been held up in my room all night writing, not wanting to be bothered. With our tour starting in a few days, we needed to leave tomorrow which meant I spent most of my day and afternoon packing and getting things in order. 

For the last few days, Hollow Souls had been working tirelessly to practice our setlist and make sure all of our visuals were spot on. It was our first tour of just the three of us and my nerves were taking over every aspect of my life. I couldn’t even enjoy the fact that I was about to spend the next two weeks with my favorite artist. 

nothing, nowhere. 

Joe’s music had been a huge part of my healing process for years so when he reached out with the idea of opening up for Hollow Souls, immediately we agreed. Even though the nerves were still there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I couldn’t count how many times I picked up my phone, wanting to text Noah, but always backed out. I told him I needed some time, truthfully I think I needed it to remind myself I could be my own person and succeed with this band for a little while. 

Maybe I needed to prove to myself that I was able to take the lead of this band without anyone pointing the finger, thinking it was someone else behind the curtain. There wasn’t someone else. It was me.

My heart began to stutter in my chest, blood running cold, so I took a deep breath while counting to four; exactly like Dr. Poulos told me to do. Soon, I felt heat spread within me as the image of Noah danced behind my eyelids. I missed him and yearned for his presence. My stomach was in knots since the second I left his house a few days ago. 

“I know it’s warmer where you are,” my eyes snapped open as the words fell from my lips. 

Fuck, that's good. 

We confessed, we told the truth. A weight was lifted off me. Noah loves me. 

He fucking loves me back. 

“I know it’s warmer where you are, and it’s safer by your side,” I sang while quickly writing it down on a fresh piece of paper.  “Right now I can’t be what you want, just give it time.”  

I began to ache at times, my stomach was sore, and my head would pound. It was often like this that I began to think I’d caught a cold. I wasn’t- it was just me feeling empty. I knew whatever this moment of self-reflection was, it was worth it. I love Noah and he loved me back.

We’d be together; soon. I had to believe that. I knew in my gut. I trusted it but I hope he trusted me.

“Cause if you and I can make it through the night,” my voice was loud now as I felt comfortable with how the lyrics were now pouring out of me. 

But there was this nagging feeling inside of me that I couldn't ignore. We last texted each other at 10 p.m. that night saying we loved each other. The invisible string that always seemed to connect us was urging me to text him. This was something else I couldn’t ignore. 

It was important to me that with this new love, the love for Noah, we have made the effort to fully heal first so we do the inner work that is required to become a whole person once more. All born into our era, our family, our body. We can only be ourselves and accountable for ourselves. He needed to know I loved him, and that I’d come to him. 

Was it selfish of me to walk away after we confessed our love? I wasn’t sure. I just knew it was important for us both to grow from our experiences. So be that rare kind of true love and this bond will be eternal. That I promise him.

With a deep breath, I shifted my attention to my phone and decided to send the message before I doubted myself again. 

Me: I love you, mochi. 

Before I could even set my phone down, it buzzed in my hand with a new message. 

Mochi 🍡: I love you, angel.

The crushing weight that I felt gripping around my heart lifted as I read Noah’s message over and over again. Although we were apart for the time being, we would be alright because we loved each other. I lay here in deep thought and my mind wandered back to my primal need for intimacy.  There is that feeling of maturity, the admittance of being in love with Noah. It arrived without fanfare. Our souls were humble travelers and I could feel the bruise begin to form on my shoulder, so desperate to feel him again.

Salem rubbed his head against my arm and I brought him into my chest, peppering his face in kisses. 

“We can meet in the middle, body and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight,” I muttered to myself. 

Noah and I have a long road together, and it’s one I wanted to last. 

A knock sounded on my door before it opened slowly, Chase's stern smile on his lips. 

Uh oh. 

He leaned against the door frame. "Sweets, I love you. You know I do. But you're fucking killing me with the paint on the carpet in the dining room." 

I knew it. 

"I'm sorry! I know, I know.” I nodded with a long sigh. “It's just the lighting in my bedroom sucks compared to the light in the dining room. I'll put down a drop next time."

Malcolm came into my room, laying a kiss on Chase’s cheek before falling onto the end of my bed somehow missing the mess I created with my writing. 

“Don’t be so hard on her, Chase,” Malcolm said before motioning to my bed. “How’s the writing going?” 

I shrugged. “It’s going, I guess. I think my mind is so preoccupied with the next few weeks that it’s hard to focus.” 

“Excited?” Chase questioned. 

“Excited?” I scoffed. “I’m fucking ecstatic. In less than twenty-four hours I’m going to meet one of my idols and tour with him for two weeks.” 

Malcolm spoke next. “Feeling confident with the setlist?” 

“Yeah! I think we’ve got a good amount of songs and I’m stoked to perform Eyelids live. I think it will be a great way to tease the new album.” 

I’d been very apprehensive to put one of the newer songs on the set list only because some fans weren’t supportive of Eyelids or St. Patrick when they first came out. But Hollow Souls were evolving into a new era and we couldn’t continue to be stuck in the past. 

“Ethan said the bus will be here to pick us up by noon tomorrow,” Chase informed. “Are you all packed and ready?” 

I pointed to the three suitcases at the other end of my room but as Salem jumped off my lap to go lay with Malcolm, I realized something important. 

"Oh, shit. I forgot to see if someone can take care of Salem,” I chastised myself. 

I didn’t miss the glance the two of them shared and raised a brow as Malcolm spoke up.  "Already taken care of."

“You asked Noah, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face. 

“Maybe,” he shrugged while giving Salem some belly rubs. 

Chase rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the door frame and sitting next to Malcolm. “Of course we did. Who else would you ask?” 

“I could have asked Jolly or Jesse. I didn’t want to put this on Noah,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“Well, he’s basically Salem’s dad now,” 

“Malcom!” I smacked his shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” he chuckled while rubbing his arm. 

“We’re not official yet, guys,” I ran a hand through my hair before pulling my knees to my chest. “Please don’t do that.” 

“No way,” Chase shook his hand as Malcolm rested a hand on his thigh. “We’re not doing that. You need to think of the positives. You two said you love each other. Soon you will find your way back to one another.” 

“I love your optimism,” I said while playfully rolling my eyes. 

“Hey, smart ass. We know these things,” Malcolm snorted while still playing with Salem. 

“You do, huh? Do you have connections to the other side?” I teased. 

“We were watching a show last week about alternate universes and shit. It made me think that maybe there’s more of us out there, ya know?” he squeezed Chase’s knee. “Who the hell knows, maybe you and Noah fucked one night, magically fell in love, and went on the road with him. By the end of it, you moved into an apartment that’s right across the street from his house because you couldn’t fathom being away from him,” Chase spoke with a smirk.

My face reddened as I shifted my gaze downwards. “Wow, that’s-uh-you really thought about that.”

Malcolm laughed. “Or what if in another life, Noah walked through literal flames for you.” 

I snorted at that thought because there was no way Noah would risk his life to walk through a fire to save my life, even if I was hanging from a building. 

“Now you’re talking about shit people read in romance novels. Did my long-lost brother start the fire as well?” 

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m just saying, the two of you will find your way. We’re proud of you and how far you’ve come. You and Noah will grow together.”  

My heart jumped in my throat at how sincere Malcolm sounded and the way Chase’s eyes danced as he stared at me. 

“Thank you guys. That means a lot to me,” I smiled. 

“Always sweets, always,” Chase kissed my forehead. “You’re the miracle Noah needed, you know?” 

“I think he was the miracle I needed as well,” I admitted. 

READER

“Wow, Dallas. You are all such beautiful souls tonight. I cannot express our gratitude for all the support we’ve been getting this tour. We’re only four shows in and we’re having the best fucking time. Thank you,” I smiled into the microphone while tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind my ear. 

The crowd cheered wildly as Chase pounded the foot pedal of his drum, the beat making my heart thump hard in my chest. It was night four of the tour and even though it was straight show after show and I was exhausted, I let the energy from the crowd up me hype to finish tonight strong. 

The support of this tour had been fucking outstanding. Every show was sold out and we even had to move our last show into a bigger arena due to high demand. The three of us were so unbelievably proud of the direction we were headed and we didn’t want to look back. 

“Before we play our last song, I think we need to show our opener some love!” I said into the microphone. 

The crowd clapped and screamed but I frowned while shifting my weight on one foot while shaking my head. 

“That’s pretty weak. I want the fucking roof to blow off of here. Let’s hear it for nothing, nowhere!” 

Chase and Malcolm played an in-sync beat as the crowd screamed, cheered, clapped, and jumped up and down. 

“That’s better.” I nodded with a smile while adjusting my guitar. “Not many know this but I’m such a huge fan of nothing, nowhere so to be here touring with him has me fangirling pretty hard right now.” 

I peered over to the side stage where Joe was leaning, watching our set with a smile. We met a few days ago and even though I did my best to keep my composure, I was a giddy girl on the inside. He and Malcolm had a lot in common which made them click almost immediately which made tour life easy for all of us. 

“So,” I cleared my throat while staring back out toward the crowd. “Our final song is a new one and I’m so excited to perform it in front of all of you. Our new album White Noise will be released in a few months. It’s different than our first three but we promise that it’ll be worth it.” 

As the crowd clapped and cheered, I smiled. “My friends, thank you. This song is   called Eyelids.” 

As we began the song over the loud cheers of excitement, I let my eyes flutter shut as yet again, memories of mine and Noah’s night flashed in my mind. 

"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."

I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never been this turned on.

With one touch I could have sworn he entered my soul. As if my body was his key. He entered me and it fit, pun not intended. Not a thing of metal nor gold, Yet a sensation of love that came.

"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh

I used the small break-in lyrics to let out a deep breath, doing my best to remain centered so I could finish the rest of the song strong

Noah was in every aspect of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the song. 

His fingertips, his eyes, his lips on every inch of skin, or the way Noah steadied our breaths. “Breathe through it with me.” 

I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.

Through his sweet words and the resolution of my survival self to never let anyone else sit at my core. He was already there.

As the song ended and I thanked the crowd with a bow, I thought how relieved I was to discover my pure self. That this with Noah could be real love. There was no temptation to change because it was our real selves that bonded us. It is our real selves that each other loves.

That night, I walked away from him without listening to his pleas but now, we were different. We had grown together, for each other.  

Tonight, I vowed then and there under the bright lights of this stage that I’d stay.

I would always stay with Noah. 

“Kick ass show tonight, guys!” Joe cheered while giving us a round of high-fives. 

I smirked while whipping out my phone. “Thanks, Joe! Give me a few minutes and we can head to karaoke.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Whose time zone is it tonight?” 

“Mine” I smirked into my phone while I quickly typed out a message. 

 Me: I love you, mochi.

“Oh,” a hand with a rose tattoo waved in front of my face. “Who has you smiling like that?” 

Playfully narrowing my eyes at Joe, I stuck out my tongue at him. “Someone is nosy.” 

Just then a new message popped up and my heart fluttered when I saw Noah’s response. It was the same response for the last week but every time, my smile spread wide on my face. 

Mochi 🍡: I love you too, angel.

When I went to put my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated with a new message, this time it was a video from Noah of Salem lying on a couch, one I hadn’t seen before. 

“Salem, say hi to your mom. She misses you,” Noah’s voice came from the background. 

I broke out in an even bigger smile and giggled when my cat did not move, didn't even bat an eye as Noah scratched behind his ears. But the music playing in the background suddenly caught my attention. 

The lyrics sounded so familiar. 

“Gave you way too many chances but it wasn't enough.” 

I replayed the video a few more times to make sure. 

“No way,” I muttered, not paying attention to the conversation behind me with Joe, Malcolm, and Chase. 

I quickly sent a text to Noah. 

Me: Hi Salem baby! Mom misses you! Also, I hear something in the background. Is it..?

Mochi 🍡: He’s napping. He had a long day of playing outside. 

My brow peaked. 

Me: You took him outside?

Mochi 🍡: Don’t worry, angel. We had him on a harness and leash. He loved laying in the sun on the back patio. 

“Sweets, let’s go!” Chase called from behind. “The karaoke place closes in like an hour!” 

I waved him off before texting Noah back. 

Me: I trust you with him, Noah. But what’s that playing in the background of your video? 

He responded with another video and when his face graced my screen, my heart jumped into my throat. 

Fuck. Me. 

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait for you to hear the final version. 

“Well, who’s that?” 

Joe peered over my shoulder causing me to jump slightly while clutching the phone close to my chest. 

“Geez, can’t a girl get some privacy?” I asked with flushed cheeks. 

The image of Noah in that video played in my mind on a fucking loop and I suddenly did not want to go out with the guys tonight. 

Joe raised a brow. “Oh, that’s him?” 

Malcolm looked between Joe and me, noticing how red my face was. “What the hell did Noah send you?” 

“No-nothing. Just a video of Salem,” I stammered at first but was quick to recover.  

Chase’s mouth parted to speak but soon his eyes turned dark, jaw clenching as he stared past me. 

“What’s wr-,” I didn’t get a chance to ask because an all too familiar voice crept deep into my bones, ripping me apart from the inside out.

“You still have that fucking cat?” 

My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach and I let my eyes flutter shut, all the breath leaving my lungs. 

No. No. No. Please, not here. Not now.

“He can’t be,” I shook my head while keeping my eyes trained hard on Chase, doing my best to stay centered. 

Do as Dr. Poulos says; deep breath in for three seconds, long breath out for four seconds.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Malcolm spat while stepping in front of me. 

“I needed to come to check out the new Hollow Souls,” the deep voice chuckled darkly. 

I didn’t miss the venom in his words. 

But I never turned around, simply kept my gaze straight on Chase who still refused to look at me; his own hard gaze was trained on the man behind me. Joe noticed the sudden tension and rested a gentle hand on my elbow. 

“Y/N?” His words were white noise. 

I’m imagining this. He’s not here right now. There’s no way. 

“You looked good on that stage, baby. Although, I bet you’d look even better in the back of it.” 

No. No. No. 

A sharp whistle. “I know you hear me.” 

“What the hell are you doing here? Why are you here?” Chase’s voice was thick with anger. 

The voice that I spent so many days in therapy talking about let out a low scoff. 

“What? I came to see my protégé.” 

Malcolm pushed me towards Joe. “Can you take her back to our bus? We’ll be there soon.” 

I shook my head feverishly with tears brimming in my eyes, my back still to the one I refused to look at. 

“No. It’s not worth it. Please guys,” I begged while Joe wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Please come with me.” 

Chase’s eyes softened when he finally peered down at me. “It’ll be okay, sweets. We’re just going to talk; promise.” 

“Come on,” Joe urged my frozen state a few steps. 

Until that darkness pulled me back into the place I spent many days dragging myself out of. 

“Oh, it seems as if you’re back to your old ways. Fucking the opening act, huh? How does good ‘ol Noah feel about that?” Trey did the jerking-off gesture at Noah’s name.

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I spun on my heels, Joe’s arm falling away from me. “Don’t you dare say his name. You haven’t earned the right to talk about him!” 

Those cold eyes that I swore at one point I’d have a future with bore into my soul as he ran a hand through the curly locks on his head. Trey smirked wickedly at me. 

“I should call him up. Better yet,” He stuck a cigarette on his lips. “Maybe I’ll send him the video I took of you two ogling each other while you were on stage.” 

I took a step towards Trey but Malcolm held out his arm to stop me, only for me to push it away. 

“Go ahead! You have absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about. We should have had you fucking blacklisted,” my upper lip curled, barring my teeth. 

“Good luck, baby. My name gets me places, I can’t help it. Plus, I needed to come see my protege. Since I fucking made you,” Trey twirled his hand towards me with a snide smirk. 

“MADE ME?!” My eyes doubled as my voice roared through the dwindling venue as fans slowly took their time leaving. 

The stagehands and crew members paused their work to watch my outburst. 

I took a deep breath to center myself again, not wanting to create a scene right now when there were still so many prying eyes.  “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. We’re doing fine without you.” 

Turning my back to him yet again, I allowed Joe to lead me away with a hand ghosting over my lower back; until Trey’s voice stopped me. 

“You’re so broken you don’t even trust yourself.”  

“Y/N,” Joe’s voice was soft as he shook his head. “It’s not worth it. Come-.” 

“Excuse me?!” I turned swiftly on my heels, hair whipping over my shoulder. 

Trey shrugged while reaching for a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You heard me.” 

I smacked his hand away, the noise echoing loudly backstage. “No. No, I don’t think I did. Say it again.” 

“You’re broken.” Now his hands were in his pocket, a lit cigarette hanging loosely on his lips. “That uh- that new song? That's about him, isn’t it? Where is he?”

Trey made a show of looking around backstage. “I don’t see him anywhere. Oh, let me guess. You demolished it right? ‘Cause we all know you can’t have a perfect thing without doing that.” 

My hands curled at my side, knuckles turning white from how hard my nails dug crescent moon shapes into my palm.  

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Trey! You never did and you don’t know a fucking thing about Noah, okay?”

“I don’t need to. I know enough,” Trey blew the smoke towards Malcolm. 

Before he could take a step towards him, Chase wrapped an arm around his chest to pull him away. 

“You know he has asthma, you piece of shit!” I pushed Trey hard in the chest. “No. No! No! You’re not going to do this.” 

“Do what? We both get off on hurting other people,” Trey snickered while taking a step toward me. “I tell you the fucking truth. You’re on the stage singing your pretty little lullabies and maladaptive daydreams because I let you! And you know what else? That little Sykes wanna be?” 

When he made the gesture of sucking a dick, I nearly gagged in my mouth at how disgusting and vulgar Trey actually was. 

Anger filled my veins as he continued to spew his venom. Every single thing Trey said was meant for one thing; to hurt and destroy. He’d spent years perfecting it and before, I’d swim in it. 

Now? Now I was different and I wasn’t afraid of standing up to him. 

“No! Shut the fuck up!” I ran a wild hand through my hair before pointing a finger at him. “You were such a poison that I should have avoided. Every single part of you. I thought you wanted to save me but in the end, all you did was break me!” 

Tears fell from my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I refused to cry in front of everyone; especially Trey. He didn’t get the privilege to break me. Not again. 

“How dare you reach out your hand? You said you loved me but acted like you hated me,” I choked on a sob. “I should have run but I didn’t.” 

Trey flicked the ashes on the ground at my feet with a fake pout on his lips but before he could say anything I pointed another finger into his chest causing him to stumble back.

“No! I have to get this off my chest! There’s more shit I have to say!” 

I could feel the proud smiles of Chase, Malcolm, and even Joe as they all flanked behind me. Not stepping in but still wanting to be close in case they needed to. 

“You’re not half the man you think you are! You’re not! You’re abusive, an addict, and I hated the way you would make me feel. Everything I did was under a constant microscope with you.” 

I began to list things on my fingers. “I couldn’t dress the way I wanted. I couldn’t talk to who I wanted. I couldn’t even fucking talk about things that I enjoyed because if it didn’t involve you, it wasn’t important. In the beginning, you needed to know my every single fucking move. But the one night you went out with your friends and I asked where you were going, you thought it would be funny to choke me!” 

“What the fuck?!” Chase roared while stepping up next to me. 

I placed a hand on his chest but kept my eyes on Trey. “I’ve outgrown you, I fell out of every trace of love and respect for you, Trey. I’ve moved fucking past you. Yes, in the beginning, I thought that maybe there might have been a chance for us. But you found yourself on drugs and nicotine. A hollow body like a figurine and I always felt like an accessory.” 

Joe turned his head towards me with a small smile on his lips. 

“Looking back now, I can see it. You always tried to put me in the background. I wasted so much fucking time on you and you wasted so much Hollow Souls time. You held us back for so long because you thought you knew what was best for us.”

A muscle in Trey’s jaw ticked. “I fucking made you. I made this band.” 

I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh, please. Everyone knows that Hollow Souls was my idea. I was the one who asked Chase and Malcolm to join. I wrote the songs. I wanted to produce our songs but you immediately shot that idea down claiming it was too much work and not worth it.” 

Thankfully, it was long after our show ended and the main part of the venue had cleared out but there were still workers backstage as they tore down our equipment. They acted like they weren’t listening to our fight but I knew that with the glances our way every so often, they heard everything. 

“You always wanted to change shit that didn’t need to be changed,” he snarled. 

I held my arms out wide. “And look where I’m at? Every show on this tour is sold out. We had to upgrade to a bigger venue because of high demand.” 

“What?” Trey tossed his cigarette to the ground. “Do you want a fucking medal for that?” 

I stepped on the bud of the cigarette, stepping right up into Trey’s space. “You fucked with my head knowing that I couldn't take it and for that, I can't forgive you. I’ll never forgive you.” 

Chase waved over security as my final words relieved the weight that I didn’t know was on my shoulders. I thought that the last time I saw Trey I wouldn’t need to say my peace but saying it now, I felt as if I could breathe easier. 

“I don’t need you to forgive me, Y/N.” He scoffed. “Noah will never love you and that you won’t blame me for.” 

My lips twitched in a smile as I breathed through the last of my stray tears. “You’re wrong, Trey. He does love me, and I love him. You won’t disturb my peace anymore, never again. I’m moving on, and I’m happy. You should be sad, and truly I feel sorry for you.” 

I took a step back to stand in between Chase and Malcolm just as security snuck up behind Trey. 

“I hope you choke in your sleep while you're dreaming of me. I fucking hope when you suffocate in your sheets that I'll be the last thing you see. Goodbye, Trey,” 

My hands shook at my side, something that Joe noticed so he gave them a reassuring squeeze. 

One of the security guards grasped Trey’s elbow to drag him out but he ripped it from the guy's grasp. Trey eyed all four of us, his gaze lingering on me a few seconds longer than the others before he spat on the ground at my feet. 

The old me would have let that bother her. But the new me simply smirked as I watched security escort Trey out of the building. 

Ethan came up to us in haste as he looked back towards Trey. “What the fuck was he doing here?!” 

Malcolm made sure that Trey was out of sight then turned towards Ethan, pointing a stern finger at him. “Do whatever you can to get that piece of shit blacklisted from any Hollow Souls shows in the future.” 

“Bad Omens too,” I nodded firmly. 

Chase cupped my cheek. “Sweet, are you alright?” 

Through tears, I nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

“How do you feel?” He had a faint smile on his lips.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, really thinking about Chase’s question. 

Relief. 

This felt like a new wave of freedom. Something I’ve yet to experience in a long while. A new form. 

I looked back at my new friend and then at my brothers; my family.  Those who bring a sense of love into my life. We can make choices to care for the self and still be kind. I had so much to say to him. It felt good to release it- yet; still I killed him with kindness. Something he’d never dare show me.

You can care better for others from strength than weakness. 

At the expense of my own comfort. It’s a prudence with integrity that awaits the right moment to be brave. I felt brave. 

I was ready for my new beginnings.

Joe motioned behind me. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your bus.” 

While Malcolm and Chase hung back to talk more with Ethan about what happened I allowed Joe to lead me outside. The cool night air danced around me with a comforting touch and I let it ease my heated skin. As I made the walk towards where the bus was, Joe had other plans and dragged me to a bench at the back of the venue. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Sit.” When I didn’t move, Joe nodded to the bench behind me. “Sit down, Y/N. Take a breather. I can see the rage in your eyes and the vein in your neck is doing a weird twitch thing.” 

Instinctively, my hand went to my neck, rubbing at it, before sitting on the bench with a long breath; Joe doing the same. 

We let a long beat of silence fall between us and with the sudden breeze of cold air, I shivered and covered my bare arms suddenly wishing I didn’t wear the dress with skinny straps. 

“Cold?” Joe wondered. 

When I nodded, he handed over his jacket which I took gratefully. “I’ll make sure to give it back to you.” 

“Good,” he snorted playfully. “Because it’s my favorite.”

I chuckled while easing onto the bench, now warm. “About what happened inside with Trey-.”

Joe bumped his shoulder with mine. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve been through something similar. I did love how you threw in lyrics from Clarity in Kerosene. ”

I rubbed my hands on my thighs, suddenly nervous. “Uh, yeah. Your album Reaper means a lot to me so it felt therapeutic in a way.” 

We sat for another long while, enjoying the quiet that shocked us for being in the middle of the city. It was in the middle of the night but neither of us was complaining. 

“It’s an honor doing this tour with you, Joe. I’ve been a fan for so long.” I smiled at him.

“Hey, the honor is all mine,” he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. “Hollow Souls has been on my playlist for a long time.”

A familiar memory of long ago crept into my mind of someone saying the same thing. 

“We're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows.”

 “Ya know, someone else told me the same thing the first time I met him,” I said with a warm smile. 

Joe’s brow peaked. “Yeah? Seems like I’ll have to meet this someone.” 

Noah flashed in my mind now; his infectious smile, his bright almond eyes, and the sound of his laughter made my heart flutter. Even though he was hundreds of miles away, our souls were always connected. It was as if he was sitting right here with me. I could feel the ghost of his hand on my thigh and his lips on mine. 

“I love you, angel,” those eyes glimmered as he watched me. 

“Hm,” I hummed while bumping my shoulder with Joe’s again. “Maybe someday.” 

READER

As I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my long locks, I sighed in content and made work of getting ready. It was an off day but I had no plans, something I intended to keep so much so that I was dressed in a pair of Bad Omens joggers and a black crop top tank. My typical stay-home outfit. 

Just when I was about to load up my laptop to continue writing, there was a persistent knock on my hotel room door. It wasn’t Chase or Malcolm since they mentioned to me earlier that they were spending the day doing a joint interview and then getting something to eat. 

Some would think it was weird that I wasn’t going to an interview with them but Hollow Souls were all for doing our own separate interviews or joint. I did my fair share of solo ones, the same with Chase and Malcolm. I actually had one planned in a few days so I wasn’t too upset about skipping out on this one today. 

“Joe?” I asked while leaning against the open door. “What’s up?” 

He smiled while giving me a once-over. “Good, you’re dressed. Grab your things and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” My brows furrowed. 

“We’re not going to waste the day away inside. I have our whole afternoon planned,” Joe adjusted his hat. 

“You do, huh?” I chuckled while leaving him on the threshold of the open door so I could grab my things, not wanting to forget the small camera I brought along for this tour, and slipped on a pair of white Converse.

With the door closed behind me, I let Joe lead me toward the elevator where we waited for it. 

“There’s this sunflower field I was thinking we could check out,” Joe said. 

“That sounds nice,” I smiled while we both stepped into the elevator. 

“Hilary sent it to me this morning and said it would be a great place to clear your head with what happened last night,” he informed. 

“Did you tell her-?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the elevator descended. 

Joe quickly shook his head. “Nope. I only mentioned how you needed to clear your head.” 

“Thank you,” I breathed when the doors opened. 

For the next few hours, Joe and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the sunflower field. We laughed, we joked, and he told me about his life growing up as I did the same. He also told me about an ex of his that messed him up mentally causing him to hide away for a year. 

“I had to cancel shows because the depression and panic attacks were so bad I had to seek treatment,” Joe said as we neared the end of the sunflower maze. “I went to hospitals, sat with monks in Buddhist temples, and went to therapy. I was so mad that someone took years out of my life.” 

I smiled solemnly. “I understand what that’s like.”

“Therapy told me that I need to stop hating the world and hating myself. I found someone who showed me what love is and I’ll forever be grateful for her,” Joe said. 

“She sounds like a lovely person, Joe. I’m glad you were able to find your happy ending.”

We came to a stop in front of a large patch of sunflowers with him a few spaces in front of me. 

“Hey,” I called after him, beckoning him to turn around so I could take a picture of him. 

His black hood was pulled over his hat and a small bag crossed over his chest. Although he didn’t smile on his lips, I could see it in his eyes. 

“It seems like you found your own happy ending,” Joe noted. 

My cheeks burned as I waved him off. “Oh, no. Not yet. We’re not official.” 

“But you text each other every night at 10 o'clock to say I love you?” 

“It’s-,” I pursed my lips while looking around the field. “Complicated”. 

Being in an open field like this, the breeze blowing through my hair, made me remember the last time I was in a place of solace like this. 

Earlier that day. 

"Noah?" I asked while looking up at him through lashes.

"Yes, angel?"

"You have a cute nose," my voice was quiet. 

Noah tilted his head to the side. "My nose?"

"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," I booped his nose. 

"Did-did you just boop my nose?" Noah chuckled with a scrunched face.

"See!" I pointed to him. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."

"Angel, literally.” 

"Mochi, literally," I mocked while sticking out my tongue. 

Joe’s soft voice brought me out of the memory and I blinked at me. “Hm, I’m sorry. Did you say something?” 

“Do you want to be with Noah?” He asked his question again while gripping the strap of his bag. 

“More than anything,” I answered without missing a beat. 

He shrugged. “Then what’s holding you back?” 

I licked my lips while shifting on my feet. “It’s not as easy as you think. After that party, so much happened and things were said that I can’t exactly forget. I was hurt and needed time away.” 

“So you just left?” 

Hearing the reality of what I did from someone else made the guilt eat away at my insides and my heart sunk low. 

“I needed to get my head together,” I defended while adjusting the black beanie on my head. 

“Do you guys even talk? Besides the usual 10 p.m. texts?” Joe asked. 

Not wanting to speak, I shook my head with a long breath. 

“Y/N, this might not be my place, but that wasn’t very fair of you to do that.”

I bit my lip, not trying to snap at Joe because all he was doing was being a good friend; something I needed. 

“My therapy session is tomorrow. I didn’t need it today,” I sighed while running my hands up and down my thighs. 

“My friend, you do,” Joe snorted. “Why are you so afraid of committing to this?” 

I played with the string of my joggers, really mewling over his question. Noah and I moved past all the bullshit and we’re ready to finally be together. So what was I so afraid of?

With a wobbly lip, I let out a shaky breath and met Joe’s eyes. “I just don’t want to disappoint him, I don’t want him to ever feel like I don’t support him or something.”

He squeezed my arm. “I don’t think you can. If you’re both more than aware that you’re human beings, Y/N.” 

“Understandable,” I nodded. “But I don’t want him to know how flawed I can be.” 

“It’s vital to face hard facts and choose to be present, honest, and mindful of what’s happening in the life of your relationship. You guys aren’t even official yet and you’re worrying about shit that you don’t need to.”

Birds chirping were muted by the sudden commotion of a group of people arriving at the sunflower patch but neither Joe nor I moved from the end of the maze we finished a while ago.

“You’re not robots, Y/N.” He began. “Erase any confusion or doubt surrounding your needs so you can learn to powerfully communicate your needs. You both need to talk. Get it out of yourselves, don’t curl up with shit alone. Don’t do that to him. Don’t assume the worst about him, especially when you haven’t even discussed things properly.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest while shifting all of my weight to one foot. “I never even noticed. In hindsight, I thought I was doing something validating. Turns out I hurt him numerous times, and he still did nothing but try to love me. Even when I wasn’t perfect. I left him alone in that hotel room because things became to real. I left him the night of the party because we both admitted we love each other. And I do. I love him, Joe. I love him so much. I want us to work. But I don’t understand why I keep leaving him. I don’t want it; I just do.” 

Joe gave me a warm smile. “I know, Y/N. You should talk to your therapist about this. I think she can give you more insight than I can offer but just know I understand. You need to approach Noah and this relationship with a loving spirit, believing that he will love you and we want to satisfy you in every way. That he is deserving of your love and kindness even if things feel too good to be true. Feel it out, you’re probably that good of a fit.”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Joe, I don’t need another therapist.”

He snorted. “No, you don’t, but I’d like to think I’m your friend and I’m telling you, that doing this to someone you love isn’t fair. Noah deserves to communicate with you too. I haven’t met the guy or seen the two of you together but from what you told me I already know.  He fucking loves you, Y/N.”

“I love him too, so fucking much, okay? I do,” I admitted with tears in my eyes. 

“I’m not saying you don’t/. I don’t know everything but, from my experience and what I’ve learned, shit like this can ruin a perfectly good relationship because we simply don’t tell ourselves the truth.”

I cocked my head to the side confused. “Truth about what?” 

“About why you’re subconsciously running,” Joe said. “You’re scared shitless and this avoidance can lead to procrastination that delays dealing with damaging stressors on or within your relationship. It did until the pipe finally burst at the birthday party.” 

“Should I be paying you by the hour?” I joked with a small chuckle.

“If you want to,” he snorts. “No, but come on. If you want him to be there for you, to be your everything, then you have to give half as well.” 

“I know. I want to. I’ve been feeling so sick lately without him.” 

It was true. 

Noah and I seemed to have been brought together by this unknown force. The universe? Maybe: we didn’t believe in high powers, yet also knew we weren’t alone. 

Staggered over weeks, months, or years. In this time the pain of our separation was an act as a focusing lens. The point was to give each other time to see the purity of our love, to be sure that there can be only one lover for this lifetime. 

Seems silly, especially in this era. Yet, it’s how I feel. I just know.

I get almost neurotic to my knees. I know that I must get enough sleep. He made a sham of my pain. I feel like I blew a hole in my heart with an ice-cold magnum. 

Why, when he’s not around I feel lonely when there’s company around. I’m not lost, but I have been found. That level of emotional indifference is not a mark of superiority, but the reverse. I was always worth more, I just needed to educate myself as to how and why.

It hit me. My body yearned for the other half of me.  The lovers who are right for one another take away the other pain naturally, by virtue of who they are the strength of their loving bond.

I couldn’t wait to embrace him again.

Joe peered over his shoulder, noticing a group of people slowly reaching us so he motioned for me to start walking in step with him. “Of course you do. It’s like half of your entire body is ripped apart and begging for the other half back.”

I smacked his arm. “Yes, exactly like that! Even though we’re far apart from each other right now, I still know subconsciously what he’s doing without actually knowing.”

“Exactly. So you two need to talk together about what you’re facing. Discuss the realities and your key concerns. Listen to each other and reflect on what you hear for optimal understanding. Be curious and open-minded concerning each other’s ideas and solutions for relief and change. If you love him, meet him in the middle like you’re saying in the song, Y/N. Don’t just use words, act too.”

We reached the rental car and Joe leaned against the driver's door. “What do you want this song to do; to say?” 

My forehead creased as I put deep thought into Joe’s question. “I think I want to expose the vulnerability. I’m kind of like star light. Maybe it can guide the way to the ones who must travel by night. The ones who don’t know that there is something special waiting for you if you keep pushing forward.” 

Joe bumped his fist with mine. “I love that, a reminder for people. However, it’s not just about that.”

“No, no it isn’t,” I chuckled. “It’s special that we aren't so different, him and I. Somehow together we are balanced. As yin and yang, but a perfect match. All I want is for him to ask me to stay again, and I’ll always say yes.”

JOE

The conversation between Malcolm and Chase was muted as we sat at the hotel restaurant, my food going cold a while ago. After my afternoon with Y/N at the sunflower field with our conversation and everything that happened last night, something was weighing heavy on my mind. 

Malcolm must have sensed it because he waved a hand in front of my face. “Everything alright?” 

My eyes snapped up towards him and I nodded. “Oh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just reflecting on that whole interaction last night. 

Chase hummed while resting an arm over the back of Malcolm’s chair. “We’re sorry Trey pulled you in the middle of it.”

“It’s fine but he’s a fucking piece of work,” I said. 

Malcolm took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah. He’s always been a piece of shit. It was like that for fucking years. Trey tried to dictate everything she did. What the band did. He was off doing what he wanted when he wanted. Y/N would fall into it time after time until-.” 

“Til Noah?” I asked with a hint of a smile. 

“Yeah,” Chase spoke next. “Have you  ever heard of Bad Omens?”

“I’ve heard their name and listened to a couple of their songs. But I’ve never seen his face until recently,” I said. 

“Did he send her a dirty photo?!” Malcolm’s eyes widened. 

“No!” I shook my head with a chuckle. “Y/N showed me a picture of him in braids.” 

“Oh, that picture,” Chase snorted. 

I continued again. “Noah has a great range and a good ear; talented guy. He seems crazy about Y/N from what she said.”

“Oh, he is. Shit, he’s over the fucking moon and back and everything fucking else. They have some otherworldly shit going on.” 

“Oh yeah? Think so?” I asked Malcolm. 

He shared a look with Chase, both of them smiling. “We know so. Noah made her fucking smile again. Laugh in a way we hadn’t heard in so long. He gave her confidence when she desperately needed it. Y/N became herself again. It’s been so beautiful to watch her hatch from the sick cocoon she was in. Last night was a terrific example. We’re so proud of her.”

“Yeah, that was something; the way she stood up to him. She kicked his ass. I may not have been around or anything for long, but that was awesome to see. I’d like to talk to Noah about it.”

Chase and Malcolm shared yet another look, the former's brows raised as he looked at me.

“You want Noah’s number? That’s a bit random, no?” 

“I just want to formally introduce myself,” I assured them. “To let him know how Y/N was last night and how awesome your record is.” 

“Is that all you want to let him know? Or do you want to make sure Noah knows that you’re not a threat? Because he knows you aren’t. And he also knows that Trey hasn’t come near her,” Malcolm reassured me. 

“No, it’s not even about that,” I leaned forward on the table to rest my arms on it. “I want to keep him in the loop, I have a feeling they’re still working out this what do I say or not say phase. Y/N’s become a friend now, and I’d like to also reach out my hand so he knows things are cool on our end.” 

I shrugged. “Plus, Noah deserves to know how badass she is and that she can take care of herself.”

After dinner, on my way back up to my hotel room, I had my phone in my hand as I worked out the message to Noah. 

Me: Hey Noah, this is Joe. I got your number from Chase and Malcolm. This is a little awkward but I wanted to introduce myself. I’ve actually listened to your band- you’re really talented! The acoustic version of If I’m There was killer, seriously. 

Now in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed to send another text. 

Me: I’m texting you because I’m sure you saw the video of what happened with Trey and Y/N. I will firstly say, she’s fucking awesome! And I’m honored to be on this tour with her and the guys. Incredible musicians and incredible people. Gearing back to the whole Trey situation, he showed up out of nowhere; but I feel it’s important to let you know, at least from my side, that Y/N kicked ass. She stood up for herself and I could see she felt a world of relief.

Only a few minutes went by when Noah texted back. 

Noah Sebastian: Hey Joe, it’s Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you as well. Y/N has been a huge fan of yours for a long time. She was stoked about this tour, and yes she is awesome. Y/N’s special to a lot of us. She’s a genuine person and has a heart of gold; Chase and Malcolm as well. I appreciate your kind words. That means a lot. You know how it is- especially in this industry. And I did see the video, unfortunately. You were there?

I quickly responded to Hilary’s text before typing out my reply to Noah. 

Me: In case she needed support.

Noah Sebastian: Right, thank you for that. I hated what Trey said, I wish I could have stopped it myself but I also know how important it was for Y/N to have closure. I’m so fucking proud of her. 

I let out a loud laugh when I saw the meme Y/N sent me but swiped away the message for right now, continuing to text Noah. 

Me: You should be proud. She’s awesome and she’s over the moon about you. From what I’m told you really lit a fire inside her, and that seems to be shining through. My partner did that for me when I found her and I’m sure it’s the same for you as well. So I just wanted to pass this along and formally introduce myself. I’m sure Y/N will bring this up to you but I wanted to show you how I saw it on my end. I hope we can meet soon.

Me: Oh, also. Hollow Souls new record is going to be sick. What they’ve been working on is sounding great.

I busied myself the next long while getting myself packed since we were planning on leaving in a few hours to head to the next city. Once finished, I realized that Noah texted me back almost instantly after I sent the last text. 

Noah Sebastian: For sure! Thank you so much. I wish I could be there. But, I understand it’s not the right time. I do hope soon we can chill at my place to shoot the shit. Thank you again for sending me a text. Very kind of you and I’m sure we’ll talk soon. I can’t wait to hear her new album. We’re all very stoked about it. We’re also close to releasing our record, I’d love for you to check it out! 

Me: Hell yes!

READER

“And if you and I can make it through the night,” I hummed while sitting in my bunk on the tour bus. 

My laptop was perched in my lap as I loaded up Zoom, clicking on Dr. Poulos’ contact. It wasn’t our usual appointment day or time but with what happened the other day, I felt as if I needed an emergency session. It wasn’t because of the negative parts but for the first time in a long while, I felt good. My spirits were high and nothing could wipe the smile from my face. 

“Well someone seems like they’re in good spirits today.” Dr. Poulos’ voice sang through my speakers. 

Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had black glasses perched high on her nose. 

“I am actually,” I smiled, the kind of smile that made the corner of your eyes crinkle. 

She tilted her head. “Care to elaborate?”

I began telling her the entire story of Trey and my afternoon with Joe from top to bottom; from that night up until now. 

“I’m very proud of you, Y/N for standing up for yourself and closing that chapter in your life. And Joe seems like he’s becoming a great friend in the aspect of telling you things you need to hear.” 

“Yeah, he is.” I nodded. 

Although I was in high spirits before this meeting, something shifted in my brain and I began to stare at the keyboard of my laptop. 

“What’s the matter Y/N? You’re slipping into disassociating thought,” Dr. Poulos’ voice brought me back.  

“Nothing,” I had a tight lip smile. 

“Y/N,” she warned. “We’ve talked about this; you need to be open and transparent.”

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. “Okay, well-.” 

When she motioned me on with a nod, I continued. “How- fuck this is embarrassing. How do I stop running away?” 

“Do you grasp that’s what you’ve been doing to Noah?” 

“I do,” I admitted. “But it hasn’t been intentional. I love him, I’m- I just don’t want to become my parents.”

Dr. Poulos’ gave me a small smile. “It’s great that you’re seeking to address this pattern. Building healthy relationships often involves understanding and addressing the root causes of our behaviors.” 

“I’m trying.” 

“It might be helpful to reflect on past experiences and identify any underlying fears or insecurities that may be contributing to your tendency to run away from relationships,” she adjusted her glasses. 

“I know it’s my mother, I know it is. Noah seemed to know it too since he was there that day she reamed into me,” I said. 

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I remember that day. You were very grateful for him being there weren’t you?” 

“More than anything. He’s my safety when I feel like I have none,” I answered. 

“That’s wonderful Y/N. In Addition, I suggest practicing self-care, setting boundaries, and communicating openly with Noah as your partner, rather than your friend, which can help build a foundation for more fulfilling and lasting connections. I remember you telling me you finally admitted your love for each other,” Dr. Poulos couldn’t hold back the wide smile on her face now. 

“Yes. I do, I do love him and I don’t want to do anything to hurt him. Noah’s already so hard on himself with everything.  I don’t want to be one more thing he’s hard on himself about. I want to help, be his escape, and his safe haven. I want him to trust I’ll stay because I want to; I will always stay.” 

She wrote something down in her journal before resting her chin in her hand as she looked back at me through her screen. “I know, Y/N. You’ve spoken about this often.  Seeking support in this form can also provide valuable insights and strategies for breaking this pattern. I believe the two of you can and you won’t run.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the length becoming a big annoyance lately. “You know so much about this, Dr. Poulos. I don’t know the first thing. I want to be able to communicate with him. Not do what I have been doing.” 

“Y/N, it’s normal. It’s critical that before you speak to Noah, you suspend any assumptions or conclusions that put you at odds with him. You absolutely need to approach him by making a generous assumption; and by giving him the benefit of the doubt. This is what it means to be a team, even when you’re feeling distant. You keep loving even when you are feeling as if you are unloveable. You’re not going to do what you did with Trey.”

“Trey.” 

His name still tasted bitter on my tongue. 

“Yes,” Dr. Poulos nodded. “You got your closure on that chapter. Now this is a new one.

“I can’t shake the fear sometimes. The fear of the feeling coming at me all at once and messing it up,” I shifted in my bunk. 

“What I suggest doing when you are feeling upset or angry is to own your emotions and realize that they stem from your interpretation of the situation, not from the facts of the situation. Your fears and deep-seated beliefs about your own sense of inadequacy, unworthiness, or unlovability often lie at the root of all those negative stories you tell yourself about why life is happening the way that it is.”

“Woah,” I blinked. “That’s-uh-a great observation.”

Dr. Poulos narrowed her eyes at me while steepling her fingers under her chin. “I have an assignment for you.”

“Oh, come on! You know how busy I already am,” I joked with a wave of my hand.

She let out a soft giggle. “Yes, well, this will be fairly simple.”

“Take a moment to challenge your assumptions, and allow the possibility that something completely different could be true. Like that, you are loved! And that with patience and respectful communication, you can experience something exceptional with Noah. You said his album is coming out soon, this party could be a great way to try this. Have you thought about going?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said without missing a beat. 

“Wonderful Y/N, see this as an opportunity to vulnerably share something about yourself with Noah, be curious so that you, through this experience, can learn something with him, too.”

I’d be the first one to admit that at first, therapy wasn’t something I thought I needed. It was a waste of time to talk about my feelings with someone who didn’t understand. But right now, I was eating my words. 

“Joe was right,” I said after a few beats of silence. 

“About?” Dr. Poulos shook her head with confusion. 

“Discussing this further with you, thank you it helps,” I ended our session with a large smile. 

READER

“Not to be overly dramatic. I just think it's best. 'Cause you can't miss what you forget.” Joe sang into the microphone. 

I sat in my spot on the couch in the interview space, watching and singing along with a bright smile. 

“So, let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant,” he finished the song with a long breath. 

I, along with the interviewer, Jackson, clapped as Joe took a seat next to me on the couch. 

“That was phenomenal. We appreciate you being here with us,” Jackson beamed. 

My phone buzzed in my lap and with a glance downward, I felt my face warm at the name. 

Mochi 🍡: You look phenomenal, angel. 

“Thank you,” Joe nodded with a faint smile. “I’m sure I can speak for Y/N that we’re both glad to be here.” 

“It seems like the tour is going pretty well. Every show is sold out. How does that feel for you, Joe? I know Hollow Souls are used to this feeling,” Jackson said while fixing his notes, not looking at me. 

I tilted my head to the side, tongue brushing over my bottom lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He finally looked my way and shrugged. “It's just that Hollow Souls is already pretty popular. You guys are used to playing in front of a sold-out crowd.”

“Are you saying that nothing, nowhere isn’t? Or did you forget that his last headlining tour had three back-to-back sold-out shows?” I questioned with a raised brow.  

“Well,” Jackson shifted in his chair across from us and looked at Joe. 

He merely ran a hand through his hair. “Number one fan.” 

“So,” Jackson cleared his throat. “Everyone online is begging me to ask you two this but what’s the dating situation? There’s so much chemistry between the two of you in the behind-the-scenes clips you guys post on Instagram. Everyone wants to know; are you two dating?” 

Joe and I shared a look then I made a show of rolling my eyes while crossing my legs. “Just because a male and female artist tour together, doesn't mean they’re dating.”

My phone buzzed again but this time, I opened the message to read it fully. 

Mochi 🍡: Tell him who’s boss, angel. You know who you belong to.

I cleared my throat while setting my phone screen down in my lap just in time for Joe to speak. 

“No, no. I’m spoken for.”

Jackson looked at me. “Y/N?”

“That’s my name, yes. Do you have a question about Hollow Souls or the tour?” I said with slight venom in my voice. 

Typically I didn’t mind interviews but every once in a while, I’d get an asshole of an interviewer that asked all the wrong kinds of questions. 

“Video surfaced online that Trey was at the show a few nights ago and it looked like the two of you were having an intense conversation. Is there a chance he’s joining Hollow Souls again?” 

My face twitched as something inside of me burned. I leaned towards Jackson with narrowed eyes. 

“Here’s what we’re not going to do; we’re not gonna focus on my love life, or personal life. I make art, not headlines. I’m cool because I'm me, and my band is cool. The art is what’s the focus, not anything else. I do feel as if people need to understand that having a private life is my right. I don’t feel comfortable sharing every aspect. Like I said, I make art, not headlines.” 

“That’s a bold statement to make. It comes with the whole fame territory,” Jackson tried to joke. 

“I refuse to allow this time in my life to be touched, tainted, or bastardized by anyone,” I finished while crossing my arms over my chest. 

While Jackson changed his direction and tone of questions towards Joe for the next couple of minutes, I bounced my knee as the anger continued to fest low in my gut until another text came in. 

Mochi 🍡: Fuck I love when you put douchebags in their place. You’re so sexy, angel. Fuck. I’m going to think about you bossing me around all night.

A hot flash of arousal took over every inch of me as I shifted in my spot on the couch, clenching my thighs together to curb the itch that burned there. 

“Everything alright?” Joe wondered when he saw the warmth on my cheeks. 

I cleared my throat. “Yep. Totally fine.” 

It would be so easy to call Noah to have our first phone sex but the thought of messing with him later sounded more fun.

“So, Y/N. I’d love to know what the future of Hollow Souls looks like?” Jackson questioned with a different tone. 

“See? It’s not that hard to ask questions that actually matter,” I teased with a smile. “But I don’t think we found ourselves because we always knew we wanted this style and this direction but we never really had the confidence to do that.” 

“With this record though, we finally have the assurance to know that we can make it work.”

“Is there inspiration behind this new album?” Jackson wondered. 

“I've always been really inspired by dark things and the supernatural for some reason. Ghosts, paranormal stuff, death, anger, sadness.” 

I gave pause when I realized that this wasn’t exactly a happy inspiration. 

“Well, anything that’s not happy basically inspires me, which sounds kinda messed up,” I admit with a laugh. 

“A lot of the new record, I wrote when I was having a really bad time mentally. I don’t like calling it depression but it seemed like that and I couldn’t pinpoint what my issues were, or what was wrong with me but I knew there was something wrong.” 

Joe watched with a proud smile and I knew that there were a few others back home watching with their own proud smile; my heart could feel it. 

“My problems weren’t tangible things, they weren’t things I could see or explain to people so in a way it was like they were ghosts or spirits that were haunting me,” I continued. 

Jackson rubbed his chin. “Why do you think that is?” 

I pursed my lips, thinking about my answer deeply. “I think a lot of people are afraid to put it out there and talk about it but we weren’t. I think that might be a big reason people have connected to the songs that have been released so far. I feel like for anyone who’s sharing feelings of topics like that, it’s a little bit scary but I feel it's more therapeutic and cathartic to write about that stuff, to talk about that stuff and put it out there. You feel better about it. To know that other people can connect to that makes you feel even better. As scary as it at first, it eventually just pays off and turns out to be good in the end.”

“Why do you think people can relate to it?” 

I shrugged. “I guess because our new album is pretty raw and honest. There’s a lot of topics people can relate to and I think it sounds pretty great, if I do say so myself. We’re pretty proud of it.”

Jackson leaned into his chair. “I would like to jump back to the haunting aspect of this album. Can you elaborate on what exactly is haunting you, if you don’t mind.” 

We’d be here all day if I did and frankly, it wasn’t his or anyone who was watching business. 

“I’m becoming a very private person as of late so I don’t need to go into the personal aspects of my life. Just know I’m moving past things, and I’m very content. Dare I say happy with where the future will be.”

Jackson nodded. “Fair enough. Would you say you’re hopeful for what the future will bring?” 

With a bright smile, I looked directly at the camera that had been pointed at us the entire time and winked. 

“Oh yes, more than hopeful.” 

Later on that night, when I was in the solace of the bathroom of the tour bus, I wore the skimpy red lace teddy I bought earlier. The necklace and bracelet glinted under the dim light as I extended my arm to take a variety of pictures; the sly smirk never leaving my lips. 

With four different pictures attached, I quickly typed out a message to Noah right on the dot at 10 p.m. 

Me: You were bold to text me earlier like that, mochi, I could barely contain myself. Here’s a little payback. Hope you’re all flustered and bothered, whatever you’re doing I suppose will have to wait. Dream of me. I love you.

Almost instantly, Noah texted back as I was swiftly changing into my pajamas for the evening. What I thought was one text became four right after the other. 

Mochi 🍡: Matt’s right next to me, angel. What if he saw this?

Mochi 🍡: fuck, my dick is throbbing right now but I can’t do shit about it. Consider this my karma.

Mochi 🍡: I can’t stop staring at the picture. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful. A true definition of an angel. 

Mochi 🍡: I’m going to call you in a little bit. I need to hear your voice. I need it. 

Switching off the bathroom light, I walked across the narrow hallway to climb into my bunk and under the covers

Me:  I’m going to bed early tonight. Maybe we can talk on the phone tomorrow. I love you.

By the time Noah responded, I was already in a peaceful, dark slumber.

Mochi 🍡: Fuck, I love you too angel. So fucking much. 

READER

"Wait," Joe shook his head at us. "You guys do this after every tour?" 

Malcolm nodded as he held the door open for all of us. "Every tour. It's become a Hollow Souls tradition."

As we all crowded into the small tattoo shop’s lobby, Joe's eyes brightened with the realization. 

“Oh, so that's why you got the tattoo of the anime character on your ankle.” 

"Yep, I smiled brightly. "Noah and I got them together on my birthday." 

The buzzing was loud in the tattoo shop as I waved at the owner who had no problem staying open late for us tonight. We finished the tour strong tonight with a hype crowd and with the adrenaline still buzzing through us, we decided to get the tattoos as soon as we left the venue. 

Joe shifted on his feet while running a hand through his hair. “You’re positive you want to get the Reaper album art tattooed?”

"This album helped me through some dark times in my life. I need to do it, especially with what happened last week. It’ll be a great way to remember a great tour and the new friend I made,” I answered while bumping his shoulder with mine. 

After we all checked in and waited, Chase ruffled my hair. “It’s almost 10 p.m LA time, sweets.”

"Shit!" I cursed while quickly whipping out my phone from my pocket. "I can't believe I almost missed it!"

Me: I love you, Mochi. Last night of tour went off without a hitch. Currently getting our typical tattoos. I can’t wait to show you what I get. 

I sat on the bed, exposing my left thigh to the artist after she laid down the stencil, and struck up a conversation with everyone as I waited for Noah to respond. Surprisingly, tonight it took him a long while to text back which made my mind wander to what he was up to. My heart didn’t ache and my stomach wasn’t filled with nerves which meant it wasn’t anything terrible. 

After my risque picture I sent him the other day, we never had the chance to talk on the phone, but I knew that it still affected him because any chance he could, Noah would send me risque texts throughout the day.

“Thank fuck,” I breathed when my phone buzzed next to me. 

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait to see it, angel. Also, sorry it took me so long to respond. I may have taken Salem to the pet store to spoil him with a few things. I hope you know I plan on keeping him for a bit once you’re back home. Mal said you guys will be busy in the studio so no need for Salem to be home alone. I love you too, angel. 

“I would ask who has you smiling like that but it’s pointless. There’s only one person who can do that,” Malcolm snorted while his artist wrapped up his tattoo. 

I stuck out my tongue at him. “Noah told me he took Salem shopping.” 

Chase rolled his eyes playfully. “And you say he’s not Salem’s dad yet.” 

Before I could set my phone down, another message came through; one I read with a fast beating heart. 

Nick R : February 23, 2022. 929 Angelus Street. Turn Right on Luna Ave. Overnight valet is already handled. No, Noah doesn’t know when to expect you. Don’t be late, Cinderella.

Nick R: The theme is red. I think you know why. Do with that what you will.

Oh shit, that was in just over two weeks. Which meant I needed a dress. And new shoes. A new hairstyle wouldn’t hurt either. 

With a smile, I responded back to Nick. 

Me: We will be there! Unlike Cinderella, I have no intention of losing my shoe and missing my Prince Charming.

Nick R: Oh good! We are merely the mice. 

CHASE

I grumbled under my breath as I scrubbed out the fresh red paint out of the dining room carpet. How many times have I told her to put a damn drop down? Y/N’s lucky I know my way around cleaning supplies and know how to get a stain out. 

Malcolm clicked his tongue against his teeth as he leaned against the wall, staring down at me as I continued to scrub on my hands and knees. 

“I must say, I love this sight of you. On your knees.” 

I snapped my eyes up at him. “Not fucking funny, Mal.”��

“I think she’ll be really excited for what Noah has planned,” he noted. 

“Oh she’s gonna lose it! In the best way,” I agreed while continuing to scrub. 

 “I think so too.” Malcolm placed a kiss on my lips before sauntering into the kitchen to get things ready for dinner. “How long do you think Y/N will be?” 

“Not sure,” I ran a hand over my buzzed head then threw in the towel; literally. 

“You know how she is when she’s let loose in the art supply store. I’d be shocked if she made it back before dinner,” I continued while hopping up on the counter. 

Malcolm began setting out the variety of ingredients and I reached for my phone next to me. 

Me: Noah, beware of paint all over the carpet.

Noah S: Already taken care of.

I showed Malcolm the text to which he smirked. “Did we expect anything less from him?”

Me: Good. Because even though I love her to the ends of the earth, paint is a fucking bitch to clean. 

Malcolm handed me a beer, one I took with a kiss of thanks, and slowly nursed it as Noah texted me back. 

Noah S: Here’s the address. I would love it if you and Malcolm come check it out. 

Me: Definitely. Let's plan for Friday?

READER

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes locked on the things scattered all over the counter, I found myself dissociating into thoughts of earlier today when we were in the studio. We had one last song to record before we started the final touches but this song was the most important. It needed to be perfect. 

I needed to be perfect. 

Which is why 

“Sweets you’ve gone over the verse we can meet in the middle at least ten times now. I think it’s good.”

Chase reassured me as I came out of the vocal booth with a scrunched up face. I did not like how my voice sounded which prompted me to do vocal take after vocal take. 

I fell to the couch in between him and Malcolm. “I need this to be perfect. I hate how my voice is sounding. It can’t sound like this. It can’t.” 

“It sounds amazing, Y/N! I promise,” Malcolm said. 

“I just-,” I ran a hand through my long hair and groaned. “This is so important to me. I want him to know I’m here. And I’m not going to leave him.”

“Noah knows sweets, he knows. He’s so stoked for this record. You know he’ll love it.”

I tossed my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, exhausted with the length. I needed my neck to breathe. It felt as if I was suffocating under the weight of it. 

“Fucking hormones,” I eventually chuckled while wiping tears from my eyes. 

Malcolm gave me a weak smile while rubbing my back. “Any pain today?” 

“A little but not much. It’s bearable.” I informed them. 

Chase nodded while squeezing my knee. “Ok, if you need a break let us know. Don’t push yourself too much. You sound beautiful.”

Salem jumped on the counter, breaking me from my thoughts, and immediately I brought him up in my chest. His green eyes stared up at me in wonder and maybe a little bit of confusion with what he saw.

“Did you have fun with Noah?” I missed you so much,” I cooed. 

Noah dropped him off while we were in the studio, us just missing each other by mere minutes. 

My fingers scratched at Salem’s neck, now realizing the bright red collar and new tag. 

“Oh, dad did in fact spoil you while I was gone. New collar, new tag, a bunch of new sushi toys. Not to mention the bed that can fit a 20 pound dog,” I chuckled. 

My shoulders went rigid when I realized what I just said. 

Dad. 

I just called Noah Salem’s dad. 

Swallowing thickly at the acceptance, I then looked at the new tag and felt my heart jump into my throat; heat spreading from the tips of my toes to my scalp.

Oh my heart. 

Salem Sebastian-L/N. 

And on the front of the tag were symbols I’d never seen before. “Huh, that's weird. What’s with the yin yang and eye symbol?” 

Biting my lip, I set Salem down on the counter and picked up my phone instead, quickly dialing the number I had memorized so long ago. 

Noah picked up after the second ring. “Hi, angel.” 

I twirled a piece of fresh hair around my finger while leaning against the counter. 

“Salem Sebastian-L/N huh?” 

A quick beat of silence. “Yeah. Figured he needed a collar with his full name. I think he likes me, he was quite needy. Is that alright?”

“Definitely alright, mochi,” I smiled into the phone. “Do the symbols have any meaning?

“You’ll know soon, angel.”

“Okay then. Keep your secrets,” I groaned. 

Noah’s infectious laughter made my stomach flip. “Will do, Frodo.” 

“I think we are due for a Lord of the Rings marathon soon. You down?” I bit the inside of my cheek, hopeful for his answer. 

“Always down, especially with you.”

I did my best to hide my excitement and was thankful Noah wasn’t here to see the way I jumped on the soles of my feet. “Wonderful.” 

There was a long comfortable silence before his rich voice came through the speaker. 

“I miss you. I love you.” 

I played with my necklace. “I miss you too, Noah. I love you.” 

“We’ll talk later?”

It was now him who had the hopeful tone. 

“Always,” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. 

“Okay.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Goodnight mochi”.

“Good night angel.”

As I hung up the phone, Chase and Malcolm both popped their heads into the bathroom. They had an approving smile on their face. 

“Does it look bad?” I asked self-consciously. 

Malcolm was the first to speak. “It looks really good, sweets. We’re proud of you.” 

“New Era coming, huh?” Chase asked. 

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “Yeah I think so. I’m ready for it.”

“Well good. Because we are too,” he knocked on the wall before the two of them disappeared in their bedroom. 

Hooking up the blow dryer, I began to dry my now darker and shorter hair, humming along to a song that had been stuck in my head all day. 

“I was lost but now I’m found.” 

Salem jumped up onto the closed toilet seat, watching me with bright eyes.

“We’re not perfect but we’re proud of who we are,” my voice echoed in the confines of the bathroom.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE FIVE : PEEPING TOM !

Starring… YAMATO 📸

SET SCRIPT :

“Helloooooooooooooo! So im thinking voyeur yamato corrupting an afab reader would go really hard.”

MATURE WARNING(S) : fingering, roommates to more, afab!reader, modern au, corruption kink, dom!yama, cunnilings (he eats you clean 🐱), voyeurism, underwear stealing, slight size kink, praise (he’s obsessed w you), overly wordy author.

DIRECTORS CUT : for my favorite writing cohort @gingersp1ce547 <3 I hope it was worth the wait.

Trying to find a place to live these past few weeks was stressing you out to no end. Every place you visited had some sort of mold infestation or made you pay insane utility fees that you know you couldn’t keep up with. That is, unless you wanted three jobs. That’s when you met him, Yamato. Supposedly he’s some rich nepo baby who split the rent at a price with you that was perfect.

You couldn’t understand why people wouldn’t wanna take the deal until he explained not everyone’s comfortable living with a man or understanding his gender identity. Fine, so be it, you both would make great roommates. That’s what you told yourself.

The two bedroom modest apartment stationed your rooms right next to each other with a living room and kitchen down the hall. Regular apartment things like a leaky tub, paper thin walls, and a light that never seems to stop flickering in and out were staples of your new cozy home.

Then there was him, a giant and boisterous guy who filled your dingy shared space with laughter and high energy. It was common to find him dancing around or working out if he wasn’t busy. You couldn’t deny there was a level of boyish charm to him that you found endearing. He made you feel safe, something about his larger than life presence caused you to feel at home with him. Almost needed. A mutual bond and understanding between you both as time went on.

You could trust him, Yamato always asked before entering your space or borrowing your belongings. He liked that you relinquished so much of yourself to him. His adorable little roommate that struts around the apartment always in a hurry to do something.

You were too tense, at least that’s what he thinks. He’s always wanted to find some way to relax you, pulling you into his hold while you both practice yoga in the living room. “You’re pretty good at this y/n, ya sure you haven’t done this before?”

He gets up to help ease your hamstring, he’s so much bigger than you are. Not that you’re paying attention though, lost in the bliss of easing that aching pain you’ve had all week.

Yamatos mind can’t stop wandering to indecent places when he sees that his entire hand almost covers the length of your torso. The contortions of your face as your muscles begin to relax. Fuck, he wants to feel you throb and whine like that on his thick fing—

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Just as quickly as his eyes glazed over, his impure desires were back to normal; big cheesy grin outstretched on his sweet face.

“Nothin! Just tryna stretch you out.” Your body involuntary twitches at his choice of words, pushing yourself away from his hold to have some space to breathe. Of course he didn’t miss that. “Aw, did I embarrass you? Your face is heating up.”

You throw a punch at him before he catches it in his large hand, pinning it down next to your face with light force. Yamato leans down into the crook of your neck, “careful, you could hurt someone with one of those,” he patronizingly says following the long line of spit he left up the column of your neck. You shiver and god does it make him want to take you, but he won’t, and just like that he’s off of you. Toweling himself off like nothing had happened between you both.

You’re left a hot, sweaty, sticky, and absurdly horny mess. Stomping through the hallway with more than displeased footsteps, making your way to the shower to cool off.

He’s not much better himself though, pouting as the fat of your ass jiggles when you walk away. Yamato never expected to get this attached to you. The guy can’t even go a day without rummaging through your clothes to get a good whiff of you when you’re out on business. He feels himself clenching his thighs together, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth thinking of the time(s) he stole your underwear and gorged himself on the scent of you. Fingers playing with the entrance of his cunt thinking of how you’d scold him for being a pervert. It gets him so hot.

On his way to come apologize to you that night with promises of your favorite snacks with a corny movie to follow, he stops dead in his tracks hearing the whine creep from under your door. The sound of squelching hung in the air as you whimpered. Were you touching yourself?

Yamato shook his head of long white hair side to side in disbelief, collecting himself as he took a few steps back from the doorway. As good and pure his intentions with you were; there’s always that grotesque feeling within him, the one that wants to listen to you moan and writhe as you pleasure yourself so close to him. He presses his ear against the door as you heave out cry after cry for more.

He felt his own slick collecting in his briefs as his breath hitched during a particularly pathetic plea of yours, heart rate skyrocketing with each passing moment. He felt his morality crumble altogether when you let out a meek, “Ya—Yama please.”

So this is what you think about when you’re alone? Yamatos mind was racing, he couldn’t stop his hands from finding the doorknob, nor stop his feet from walking through the door that separated him from you.

Your back is arched, legs spread as your fingers deliriously curl within your warm walls. The sight forever imprinted in his mind, you’re perfect. The same urge from earlier compels his hands to find his nipples as he watches you, each roll sending electricity shooting through him. He sees your eyes crinkle in frustration while trying to get yourself off. “Ha- Yama I need more,” you say as your thighs clench around your wrist.

But he continues only to watch, wanting to savor every little plea that spills past your lips. How long will it be till you notice him? Beg him to help get you off? He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, rubbing his clit in tune with the fluidity of your wrist. Yamato never anticipated just how hot it was to watch someone like this, so vulnerable as the endorphins consume you; so much so that it blinds you of his presence in the room with you.

Your eyes flick open when you feel movement around the room, and there he is basked in the halo of your ambient lighting. More of an incubus than anything else, his eyes burn with desire as you cower under your sheets. “Wha- why are you watching me?” Although it was a question, it comes out rather declarative.

First he has to stop himself from drooling, your nipples still hard as they poke out from your thin white sheets. Of course the first thing he says is optimistic and arrogant. “Don’t beg for my help then,” he says while making the bed dip with his added weight.

“I did not beg—” he still looms closer, “what are you doing?” You pull the sheets taught as he ghosts his hands over the plush of your thighs.

“What does it look like? I’m helping you out since you asked for me.” It’s in the way the way he says it, self assured that he’s all you’ll need. Ultimately, your body can’t deny what it wants. Your arousal pooling between your legs in self defeat and embarrassment.

Yamato allows his palm to sit snug against the sheet that separates him from your warmth, digging the flat of his hand against your clit. “I can feel how wet you are through the sheet, you needed me this bad?” Your words die in your throat as you look at him dumbfounded, taking advantage of your disoriented state he strips the sheet off your body.

Your mouth is left gaping, he wastes no time taking as he wants. Licking and nipping the skin of your neck with sharp canines. The pad of his finger teases your entrance before it eases in with the help of your arousal. He smothers you in his lust, stroking that spot within you that always seemed out of reach.

It’s not soon that you’re mewling for another of his lithe digits to be knuckle deep inside you. “Patience sweetness, it’s my job to take care of you.” He’s so reassuring, sending a surge of warmth throughout your body that makes you melt like putty in his pretty hands. Sliding his ring finger inside next to his middle, he scissors you wide open.

“So wet from thinking about me, you hear that baby?” Listening to his voice centers you, drawing heed to the squelching noise of your throbbing cunt. Your legs lay flat apart as he pounds your pussy, bruising the entrance with speed alone.

You’re so close he can feel it, your inside pulsing and gripping his fingers like you don’t want them out of you. That’s when he rips them out, leaving you clenching on nothing. “Do you want to feel really good?” He asks while licking his fingers like a mutt in heat, enamored by the taste and scent of you.

He’s stripped you to the point you’d do anything for him. So, obediently you nod and mumble out a yes. “When you feel good, don’t hold back on me.” Yamato drags his thumb down your folds till he finds your clit, lightly circling the pad of his finger on top of it. He leaves feather like kisses on the insides of your thighs, sucking the skin as he gets closer to your heat.

His own cunt throbs hearing your airy sighs and breathy moans, licking your entrance to collect his due. “You taste even better than you smell,” he says against your lower lips, sliding his long tongue past the tight ring of muscle.

It feels like fucking heaven, his thumb rhythmically rolling your bud as his tongue devours your insides. All you can do is allow your pleasure to wreak havoc against your vocal cords as you lose yourself to his touch. “Bet you could never make yourself feel this good, huh?” It’s condescending but it’s pussy clenching, and you best be sure he felt it against his wet tongue.

“Only you Yama, please don’t stop,” you’d do anything to forever feel like this. So small within his warm hands that bring you a burning feeling in your lower gut. He tongues your clit, applying heavy pressure while opting to curl two fingers against your g-spot. You can see the sheen of spit and slick against his face while he makes out with your pussy. It’s downright depraved how he consumes you with his hands and mouth alone.

He finally gets what he wants, watching you clench and throb around his fingers in a hot sweat while your orgasm licks at you. Yamato thrums the pads against your insides flicking his tongue against your swollen bud. “Give it to me baby, let me know how good you feel,” and that’s all it took. His soothing voice coaxing you to your climax. It hit you like a bag of bricks, making you twitch against him as you ride it out.

A string of curses leave you as the pressure in your cunt dissipates. You cling onto his wrist to stop the overstimulation consuming you, but he can still feel the way your walls hammer against him. “So pretty when you cum.” It’s small but it’s enough to bring you back, reaching out for him to take care of you like he always does. This time with the added intimacy.

“You should let me watch you more often,” he says softly while holding you against his chest. The fact you allowed him to see you like this was astounding, therefore he would hold you for as long as you needed. Aftercare was no problem to him.

“You are such a damn vouyer,” you joke as you snuggle deeper into his chest. Yamato laughs a little at the joke, but he couldn’t help feeling it may just have been true.

Enjoy? Reblog & click here 2 see more!

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

An Evening of Persuasion (John Price x Reader)

Summary: An unstoppable force (your desire to get your captain a somewhat regular sleep schedule) meets an immovable object (Price immersed within an endless pile of paperwork).

AN: Had a go at writing John Price. Once again, please don’t make fun of me. It’s already bad enough I’m down horrendous for a man with mutton chops.  Thank you everyone who voted in the poll! I’ll post them in the order of the results.

Reader is GN with no use of Y/N.

Content warning: 

Masterlist // AO3

The late-night interaction started with you being a hypocrite. Your policy of “knock and wait until the person on the other side of the door allows you to enter” was one you’d held long before you joined the military. It was the bare minimum level of respect that could be shown, as well as a display of patience.

Tonight you committed the ultimate sin: you knocked as you opened the door.

From his desk, Captain Price spoke with the heaviest of sarcastic tones as you closed the door to his office behind you: “Yes, please, come in. No need to wait outside until I’m ready.”

The famed boonie hat was off and sitting politely by his buzzing desk lamp. His hands were bare, their gloves paired and no doubt in his middle desk drawer. One of his hands reached for his mug whilst he kept scanning the sheet of paper in the other. He only looked up when he patted the placemat – not his mug – to see you holding his drink hostage, staring down into the blackness that occupied it.

“You can’t drink this; you’ll be up all night!” You frowned.

“That’s the point.” Hand open, palm up, eyebrows raised, Price began to stare you down. His silent steely eyes held you like a deer in the headlights. Except you had far better control over your instincts and knowledge of your Captain that ran deeper than the Marianas Trench.

After blinking first out of the two of you, you held the mug to your lips and started chugging the coffee down.

“For God’s sake,” grunted Price. He was up and out of his chair.

Celebrating the success of getting him to move, you circled around the desk backwards, still holding the coffee out of reach, “It’s gone eleven; you need to go to bed.”

Price was unrelenting, “Give me the coffee.”

“You’re gonna regret it in the morning!”

“You’re already gonna regret it; I’m putting you on bathroom duty for the next two weeks.”

The hand was already back out, not close enough to make a sudden grab for the mug. It was a power play. His success required you to give it up willingly, and he was adding to the pressure of the return.

“Three weeks. Give it back.”

Making more demands though, he didn’t have to do that – just add to the punishment and let that speak for itself. He must really be tired.

Rather than push that tactic, you decided to butter him up instead and make him lower his guard by handing back the coffee mug. He didn’t even smile at his success. An ache grew in your chest, melancholy in the absence of those eye crinkles that appeared whenever John’s grin grew across his face. You watched him sit back down at his desk, replacing the coffee mug, before he leant back and sighed deeply with his face hidden in a hand.

“John?” You said quietly. He let out a low hum but didn’t look at you.

You followed the path he’d taken until you were stood behind him. With a firm squeeze on his shoulders, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and rested your chin on his head.

“Why are you so persistent, eh?” He said gruffly

“Because I care about you,” You mumbled before kissing his cheek and releasing him in favour of spinning him around in his chair to face you, “C’mon, you can leave it until tomorrow.”

Captain John Price did not rise from his office chair. Instead, one of his feet kicked up to rest on the opposite’s knee. He lifted then tilted his head, his fore and middle finger stroking over his bottom lip, teasing it into a smirk as he watched you through slitted eyelids.

“What?” You folded your arms, struggling not to fidget further.

John pursed his lips, “Just lookin’ at you.”

“That’s a dirty tactic, Captain.”

“Pulling rank is a dirty tactic – and an odd choice for you to make, considering I outrank you by a very large margin.”

“Don’t I know it,” You popped out your right hip with a grin.

Your double entendre scored you a couple of points, since you got to hear Price’s hearty laugh for a few seconds. It broke his stare as his head lolled back, only returning once his mirth had ended – the only clue to its existence the glint in his blue eyes and the crinkles at the corners.

Carefully, as if to avoid a HR violation, he said, “Are you trying to seduce me into bed?”

How dare he, when he was sat looking at you and looking like that, accused you of such a thing. Sure, you’d done it before and it had been very effective, but you has to act like you were slightly above using sex to get John to prioritise his health over his paperwork. Set an example and all that.

“I don’t need to,” You replied, “Because my boyfriend is going to do what I ask.”

“Is he now?” John raised his eyebrows.

After another brief stare down, you rolled up the sleeves of your shirt: “Fine. Can’t say I didn’t try being nice.”

And that’s how you ended up perched in his lap, nice and comfortable and straddling his thick thighs. You didn’t miss the quirk of John’s lips before he ironed out his expression to remain neutral; that became especially difficult to maintain as he shuffled the chair around to face the desk.

“Hope you don’t use these torture techniques on anyone else,” he signed a document and placed it in his out tray – his very small out tray.

“No, I save them for geriatric stubborn superior officers.”

“I’d be very surprised if Ghost let you try this out.”

“Are you kidding? He’s all over me,” You said, bobbing and weaving your head from side to side as John tried to get a good look at the next file behind you.

John scoffed to (poorly) hide the wince, “Don’t say that.”

“Jealous?”

“Disgusted.”

“You brought him up; one might call it a dirty tactic.” You were very pleased with that one. “I’ll stop talking about it if you come to bed.”

“Extortion! Now we’re talking.”

“A language you can understand, at last!”

“… Fine!” John capped his pen then kissed you on the forehead, “I’ll go to my room.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Even with this assurance, you continued to monitor him close down his office for the night and retire to his private quarters. That meant watching him get undressed, occasionally helping him with an item of clothing he clearly wasn’t struggling with.

When he was down to his undershirt, you headed towards the door, but John caught your elbow neatly, “Hang on, you’re not staying? After all that hard work putting moves on your superior officer?”

You untangled yourself from him, “No, you put me on toilet duty for three weeks.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Shut up and get into bed.”

John didn’t try holding back the smile or the flush hidden mostly by his mutton chops, "Technically, I only agreed to go to my room.”

“John!”

“I'll get into bed if you tuck me in.”

“Toilet duty. Three weeks.”

“I’ll lower it to one week.”

“No, you won’t.”

As he sidled away from you, John sighed, “I guess you know me too well.”

“Oh, I see what this is,” You said as he languidly removed his sleep shirt with his back, his gorgeous back, to you, “You’re trying to seduce me again.”

“Just taking turns, it’s only fair.”

With a flourish, John discarded the shirt into his laundry basket. You had to redirect your gaze to the ceiling because, if you could see any part of his chest, you would not be able to control yourself and you couldn’t let him catch you ogling openly.

“Fair, right. You don’t ever play fair,” You deflected, temptation approaching in your peripherals.

“I find that accusation offensive.” You stiffened as, with ease, John lifted you up into his arms and smirked since he’d given you no option but to look at him. “If anything, my playing this way balances out your actions in my office.”

You weren’t immune to his charm; he’d eroded your iron will into a rusty stump. So, as he carried you over to the bed, your hands slid up to link behind the back of his neck and you relaxed a little.

Still, you couldn’t help but throw another quip his way: “Getting practice in?”

John paused before sitting down on the bed with you over his lap, “For what?”

“Weight lifting, Gaz said you were trying it out the other day. Got matching sweatbands and legwarmers.”

It was a lie that doubled as a rib. But there wasn’t any retort to this fabrication; John started unlacing your boots instead, acting more interested in getting you to sleep with/beside him than whatever slip-up he’d just skidded on. Thing was, you weren’t sure what the slip-up was, what was making him act like this. If you weren’t about to curl up atop the blankets and snooze, you’d probably have been able to work out what was suddenly bothering him, and maybe you’d be more subtle. But it was almost midnight and you’d had a 5:30 start, so you just asked him outright:

“Why, what did you think it was practice for?”

“Dragging your arse around while out in the field,” John replied, tugging off one of the boots to toss it over by his. Your pride wasn’t wounded because that was the biggest fib you’d heard.

You bent your leg, holding your foot hostage, “Johnathan Price, tell me now or I’ll go to my own bunk.”

But the use of his full name didn’t dissuade him. No, John grabbed you by the ankle and dragged back, causing you to slide back against him. He raised his eyebrows at you when you tried tugged it back, effectively ceasing your resistance to receive his revelation.

“Thought about carrying you to our bed on our wedding night.” His blue eyes held you still for that revelation, setting your stomach into knots, then he was back to untying your laces.

You knew he had nerves of steel, but John remaining pretty casual after confessing to a daydream of marriage between you both? You would’ve had more composure dealing with bomb defusal. Even now, your face was hot, your throat was drying up, and you weren’t even the one to confess.

Marriage, you’d mentioned it by the third week of the relationship, saying that it was something you would like with the right person and he was looking like that right person. John agreed and, after a quick one in his private shower, you left the subject there beside your recently relocated shampoo bottle. There hadn’t really been any other mentions of it before now, and that was over a year ago – maybe fourteen months? But, in the occasional instance of space whilst waiting for evac, your mind had considered seeing Price at the end of an aisle or even sat a registrar’s office in smart civvies. Gaz had caught you smiling to yourself once and teased you about it for two weeks after.

It took until your boots were reunited on the floor that you resurfaced from your racing train of thought. You stood up as elegantly as you could, even though John’s gaze was resolute on your face, watching and waiting for your response. Well, here it was.

“And,” You began unbuckling your belt, “What if I wanted to carry you to our bed on our wedding night?”

God. His face.

The shock took a split second to wear off. Spreading across his face like the rising sun was that smile, close-lipped with scrunched up eyes, like he was watching you open a present he knew you were bound to love almost as much as he loved you. Absolutely cheesing away at you, and it made you feel like your bones were gonna collapse from under you.

“Did you think of that?” You added.

“Can’t say I did,” John shook his head, keeping his warm eyes on you, “But, if that’s the case, you better join me with the weightlifting then, Lieutenant Price-to-be.”

“Love this assumption I’m taking your name.” That retort came quick. You were still a little immune to his charms.

“Why, you keeping yours?” He sounded cocky, and it would’ve been even more effective if he wasn’t reaching out for you to return into his arms whilst you removed his shirt from the laundry and slid into it.

Once you spotted his stance, you stepped back into his grasp, both your hands cradling his jaw, “Was thinking double-barrelled, or you can take mine.”

“Then I’d really be all yours.”

“And everyone would know it.”

He was making you swoon with his stare again, so much so that you had to hold his face and rest your forehead against his to ground yourself. Closer to the sun but it never burnt you - and he never looked at his stupid paperwork like that.

He whispered to you, “Guess what.”

“What?” You waited as he leant around and pursed his lips against your ear.

“I’m still putting you on toilet duty.”

The wheeze from his chest erupted with a splutter at your gawking then shielded his face from your indignant smacks, pushing him so that he was flat on his back.

“You bastard! You’re so mean to me!” You cried, trying to kneel over his hips to pin him down. Instead you were just sat upon him and that definitely wasn’t a bad thing in John’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” He stroked over both your thighs, “How can I make it up to you?”

And, while he did look delicious lying there, burning cheeks and beaming up at you, he’d just sealed his fate.

“By getting some shut eye ASAP, and taking your future spouse off toilet duty.”

The downfall of Captain Price: caught in a trap of his own design. He’d be pissed if he wasn’t also proud. Though, of course, he never went without a final negotiation in his favour:

“Only if you stay.”

Ignoring the urge to joke about walking back to your room in just your underwear, you agreed to his terms. He looked pleased as punch laying beneath you; such a shame that you had to get off him to get under the covers on your designated side of the bed. John followed you over your territory for a little bit, kissing away the sting of his jape, before switching the bedside lamp and settling down for the evening. At last!

So, of course, that was when the coffee you chugged earlier kicked in alongside the karma for knocking and entering without waiting.

But then a snore buzzed from John’s side of the bed. So, as he snuggled up beside you, a hand instinctively brushing up against you, that cross to bear was accepted for the sake of your future husband.

[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 9)

DESCRIPTION: During you're time in the safe house you experience an event that'll likely cause your whole life to change.

WORD COUNT: 3110

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: pregnancy, giving birth, swearing, really bad writing to be honest

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

You'd been living in the safe house for a little under 2 months now. Celebrated Christmas and the New Year inside of it. You saw the man who delivered you new food every week on a Sunday. Edward his name was. Asking him to buy some specific things for your sisters so they could still have a somewhat normal Christmas, given the circumstances. It was quite nice being the three of you though. Over the winter you spent the short days reading, the long nights playing cards.

It was mid January, like any other Sunday. You sat in the living room. Reading a book. Only a few days left before February came around. Which you were greatful for. This month always seemed to last ages and summer would always seem so far away. A knock at the door. Elizabeth calls out.

"I'll get it" she says cheerfully. You stand up. A weird pain going through you as you stand. Letting out a small huff of air as you rub your stomach. Paying it no mind before walking over to the door. You see Edward outside. Brown paper bag with various bits in as he talks to Liz. Who keeps playing with her hair. You half smile at the scene before waddling over. He sees you, a smile on his face. Different to the one he gave your sister but you pay it no mind.

"You life saver" you say. Holding your hand out for the bag. He shakes his head.

"I don't think you should be carrying anything unnecessarily in your condition" he motions at your rather huge stomach.

"Is it really obvious that I'm pregnant?" he laughs as you comically push your stomach out. Motioning for him to come in. He goes to the kitchen. He'd been here plenty of times before so knew where to go. Placing the bag down onto the side.

"I even managed to get you-" he reaches into the bag. Pulling out two oranges.

"Oh my god yes" you hold a hand out, him passing it to you as he starts to empty the bag. That's when you feel it. The same sharp pain going through your side. You brace your hands on the counter. Furrowing your brow before the pain stops just as suddenly as it had started. Edward watches you

"You ok Mrs Shelby?" you nod. Standing back up again, rubbing your stomach.

"Yeah just peachy. Or should I say-" you hold the orange up again "Orangey". He rolls his eyes.

"I thought the dad was meant to say the bad jokes?" you laugh, starting to peel the fruit. Going to say something but the pain comes back. Harder this time. Ed stops what hes doing. Coming over to you as he steadies you. You bend forward. Grabbing his hand and clinging onto it as if your life depended on it. "Liz call the midwife" you see her running off.

"No" you call out. A small plea in your voice "please don't.... fuck!" you say. Hearing her speaking on the phone.

"Lets get you sat down" he says. Pulling out a dining chair as Liz runs back in, shortly followed by Mary.

"Midwife is on the way"

"Good. Flo just breath"

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" you shut your eyes. Rubbing your stomach as you speak in a low whisper. "Please get them out of this room" you say, almost as a sob. He nods. Motioning for your sisters to leave. SHhtting the door behind them to the kitchen. He comes and sits next to you. You dig your nails into the wood of the table.

"We- We should contact my husband"

"I can't do that" you look at him. Focusing on your breathing as you give him a questioning look. "Mr Shelby was very clear on his instructions. We do not contact him no matter what. To keep you, your child, and your sister safe". You chuckle slightly. A shaky breath out as you look away from him. Another contraction hitting you. You bend over slightly. Hand going to your stomach as your nails scratching the table before balling it into fists. Feeling the pain of your nails into the flesh of your palm.

Letting out a crying laugh as the pain subsides. Shaking your head slightly. "I'm having his baby and hes to fucking busy to come and see me"

"Its for your safety Mrs Shelby" you run a hand over your face. Pushing yourself up from your chair. Starting to pace. Ed stands too, hands outstretched like your a stray dog hes trying to tame. "I think you should remain sat down" you shake your head. Swaying on your feet side to side. Hearing the front door knock. Ed stands up. You shut your eyes as you hear the door open. The familiar voice of your midwife being heard.

She walks into the kitchen. Smiling at you as she places a medical bag onto the dining room table. "Its nice to see you again Mrs Shelby" you nod. Breathing deeply through your nose as she continues to speak. "Why don't we go to the bedroom for a little more privacy, hmm?" you nod.

Letting her take your arm as she leads you to the bedroom. You stay standing as she goes and and moves your pillows around for you.You stand as she does so, swaying softly as you shut your eyes. Ed following with the medical kit. She looks at him, taking the kit from him.

"Thank you" she smiles at him. He stands, hands placed neatly in front of him as he watches. She coughs slightly, causing him to look at her "I'm going to have to ask you to leave sir. There's no men allowed in the delivery room"

"I can't do that. I'm sorry ma'am" she turns to face him fully.

"I understand your concern. But my only aim for this visit is to deliver the baby safely. Your men have already checked my person. I am unarmed. Now I need you to leave so that I can do my job" he looks at her.

"I'll be just outside the door. If I hear anything unusual I will make no hesitation to come in here" she nods. Him turning tail and heading out the door. Shutting it behind him as your midwife faces you. A smile back on her face. "Why don't you come and lie down on the bed Mrs Shelby?"

"I don't want to lie down"

"I'll be able to help you a lot better if you lie down and let me have a look at whats happening".

"Is it to late to not have it?" she half smiles.

"Unfortunately so. Come on" she gently takes your shoulders. Leading you to the bed. Helping you up and lie down. Going between your thighs as she examines you. You shut your eyes as you breath.

"You're 4cm dilated"

"6 to go, right?" she nods. You shake your head. Turning your legs to go back over the bed. Standing up and pacing again. Gripping the end of the bed frame as another contraction hits. Screaming out. Dorothy (the midwife) coming over and comforting you. Rubbing firm yet gentle circles onto your lower back. She continues to rub onto your back. Massaging the pain away as best as she could.

"I want my husband" you say in a choked sob. "Please..."

"I can't do that Mrs Shelby. I'm sorry. What you need to focus on is getting this baby out. Do you think you can do that?" you shake your head.

"No. No I cant do it. I cant do this" you grip the bed frame tighter. Crying out again. "I need my husband... Please..." She waits for this contraction to pass before helping you to lie down onto the bed.. Dorothy checks how dilated you are.

"You're at 10cm my lovely"

"What the fuck does that mean?" you say. Hand coming up and covering your eyes.

"It means that you can start pushing for me. Count to 3 and give a really big push. 1, 2, 3 - that's it. Good girl. Do that one more time for me ok? 1, 2, 3 and push. Well done my lovely. The head is out. Hold it there. You're doing so well. Ok. Now do it one more time. Do you think you can do it? Come on. 1. 2. 3. Push. Keep pushing. Keep going. Well done. You did so well"

You pant. Eyes opening as you look. Dorothy clamping the two ends of the umbilical cord. Cutting it. Your eyes follow her as she holds your baby. Her rubbing its back. Unable to hear its cries a fear washes over you. "Is my baby ok?". As if on cue you start to hear its crying. A sigh of relief as she wraps the small human up in a blanket.

"Congratulations Mrs Shelby. You have a beautiful baby boy". You get handed him. A smile on your face as you look at the child you had made.

"Oh my god" you say in a soft whisper. Gently stroking the babes features. You feel Dorothy help clean everything up. Covering your lower regions before opening the door. You cant see it but Edward, Elizabeth, and Mary all wait outside the door. They come in. Edward checking to make sure everything seems well as Elizabeth and Mary rush to your side. Looking at your baby. A smile on your features as you look at the child.

"Have you thought of any names?"

"Yes. We were going to see if it was a boy or a girl first" you look up at her. "We're going to call him Charles" looking back down at the baby. "Charles Shelby" you whisper the name. Closing your eyes as you kiss his forehead.

-

5 months had passed. You were still in the safe house. Your midwife had stopped coming regularly around 4 months ago. Although she did tell you that if you had any further questions to contact the doctors. Edward was still coming every Sunday. Delivering you all food as you remained on lock down. Liz and Mary outside in the garden. Happy to be in the summer sun.

You were sat on the living room floor. Holding a toy that Edward had brought you as a gift for Charles. You play with it. Booping it onto the childs nose causing him to giggle. That's when you hear the front door open. Turning to look at the hallway. Edward wasn't meant to come round for another 3 days and the men patrolling your house never came in. You stand up. Picking up your child as you hold him close to you.

Rubbing his back as you make your way to the living room door. Poking your head round you see someone you weren't expecting.

"Thomas..." you whisper his name. Him examining the pictures on the wall. Turning to face you at hearing his name. He smiles at you. His cold stare growing warm as they meet yours. "I- I wasn't expecting you today" he nods.

"I told you I'd come and get you once the threat had been dealt with. So here I am".

"So we're safe to come back home?" he nods. You smile. Hugging the child you were holding close to you. Shutting your eyes as you rest your head against Charlie. "We can go home" you whisper. "We can go home". Kissing the side of his head. You open your eyes. Seeing your husbands eyes on the child your holding.

"Shit" you look between the two of them "shit yes. Tom meet your son. Charles" he comes over fully. The baby staring at him as he gently strokes the babes cheeks. This close proximity you get the scent of whiskey and cigarettes from your husband. The familiarity of it causing you to relax as he smiles at his child. The baby smiling back at him. Mimicking his dads expression.

"I've come to take you, your mum, and your aunties home. What do you say about that, ey?". You kiss your childs cheek before stroking his hair. Turning to Tommy.

"Could you hold him whilst I get the girls and our stuff please?". He nods without hesitation. Hands coming out as he takes your child. A genuine smile on his face as he takes him in his hold. The child looks at you, reaching a hand out. You take it. Kissing the back of his fingers.

"I will be back soon my love" kissing his fingers again. "You stay here with your dad, ok? I'll only be a minute" Stroking his cheek. He looks at his father. The hand you were holding goes to his dads cheek. An unsure but small smile comes over the youngers face. You stroke his hair again. Kissing the top of his head. "I'll be quick".

You're husband drives you all back home. Pulling up outside your house. The back doors open as your sisters get out. You grab the handle to open the car door. Stepping out as you hold your son. Liz and Mary grab your bags as well as their own as the start going into the house. You smile as you look at the familiar building.

Thomas comes over to you. A hand going gently to your upper arm as he looks at you. You turn your head. Meeting his ocean eyes. "I have a present for you". Your brow knits together as you look at him.

"What for?"

"Many reasons. To celebrate our one year anniversary, the birth of our son, Christmas, plus the fact that the threat that separated us is now gone for good" he pauses for a moment. Letting the words hit your ears

"What is it then?"

"That defeats the point of a present if I tell you, ey? All I ask is that you and Charlie get into the car and I'll take you to it" you don't move. Instead just watching him. Trying to read him. It had been a while so you were a little rusty. "Trust me, Florence". You nod slightly.

"I trust you Mr Shelby" he smiles. You move to the side as he reaches behind you. Grabbing the car door, opening it for you as you get in. Shutting it behind you before getting into the drivers seat. Charlie watches your husband as he loosens his tie. Pulling it up and over his head. Turning to face you as he holds it in his palms.

"You still trust me Mrs Shelby?". You look at the tie. Then looking at his eyes. His soft, pulling you in as they scan your features. "Do you?". He repeats. You bite the inside of your lip. Looking at the tie again before nodding. Looking back at his eyes he smiles. You wrap and arm around your son. Holding him close to you as Tommy brings the tie up. Wrapping it around your head and tying it in the back. You reach a hand out. Gently touching his shoulder "Is that comfortable?". You nod. Feeling him shift. The car engine starting. A rumble going through you and the vehicle as you feel it starting to move.

"Where are we going Mr Shelby?"

"You're going to have to wait and see". You feel his hand go to your leg. Squeezing it softly before moving back again. Your hand remaining on his shoulder as a form of security for you.

You're unsure of how much time goes by before the car comes to a stop. He removes your hand from his shoulder. Placing it to join the other one wrapped around Charles. Hearing the door beside you opening. You feel him remove the child from your lap before a hand comes out and takes yours. Helping you step out the car.

"You know, making your blindfolded wife get out of a car whilst she wears heels may not be the best idea you've ever had". A chuckle escapes him. Causing you to smile "Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself at this image"

"Very much so" he says. You can hear the smirk in his voice as you successfully get out the car. He turns you. Bringing your arms up as he places Charlie back into your arms. Not letting him go fully until he knows you have a good hold on him. Feeling him move behind you. You move your head, tilting it so you can hear him better when he speaks. "Are you ready?". You nod. Feeling his hands come up. Untying the tie around your eyes. Taking it and placing the material in his pocket.

You blink a few times. Eyes becoming re-accustomed to the light. Feeling his hands gently rest onto your upper arms. You hold Charlie as you manage to focus on a house standing before you. No. Better described as a mansion. He leans near your ear. Speaking into it. "Welcome to our new home - Arrow House"

"Our- Did you just say our home?" he nods. His hands still resting on your arms. Holding you as you whisper "This is ours...?" Scared if you speak any louder you might break the magical atmosphere. A smile on his face as drops your arms. He comes round to the front of you. Outstretching a hand, to which you take. Holding Charlie still.

Awestruck as he goes up to the front door. Leading you with him. Opening it you go inside the beautiful entrance way. "Your fucking kidding me" you say. Adjusting Charlie on your hip. Looking up at the grand staircase. He watches you. His hands placed comfortably in front of him. "This is a joke right? This is a friends house that you've borrowed or something"

"I had some spare money left over that I needed to spend. Given the circumstances of your pregnancy I thought it only made sense to buy us a house. One that could accommodate for us"

"Fuck me..." you whisper. He takes out a cigarette. Rolling it over his lips. Taking out a lighter and lighting the end. Drawing a drag from it before removing it from his lips. Placing the lighter back into his pocket.

"We have room for a few maids which should be starting at the end of the week. I've got a few cars to come by to deliver your personal items. They should be arriving later today" he places it back in his mouth.

"You've really set a high bar for presents. You realise that Mr Shelby?" he smiles. Watching as you bring a hand up. Feeling joyfully overwhelmed.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @frozenhuntress67

[godlygreta]

god is fair | j. t. kiszka

title | god is fair

word count | 7.7k

warnings | swearing, mentions of alcohol - nothing too terrible... yet ;)

author's note | i've had this in the chamber for some time now, i just lost the inspo to write, which is why i haven't in a long time. this isn't a promise that i'll post more fics as they come to me, seeing as i'm a senior in college who has a fuck ton of other things to do. there will be a part 2 to this fic, but i couldn't tell you when it's coming :)

also, very much so listening to god is fair, sexy nasty by mac miller while writing this & starting the next part, so take that as you will ;)

unedited as hell so pls excuse any mistakes !

You always had this rivalry since the beginning of freshman year. This guy, Jake, would never show up to any of the classes the two of you had together, but always got the highest grades on every single goddamn exam that your Intro to Bio professor gave out. It infuriated you.

You figured that in the spring semester, you would be freed from the disappearing boy, but you weren’t. While the teacher called roll, everyone shouted out here. She landed upon his name, calling out to the class and looking through the rows of students. He had been there for orientation, sitting in one of the middle rows, slouched in his seat.

You planned to confront him the next day you had class together, on Wednesday, but Jake was nowhere to be found. Your roommate and your friends had heard your exhaustive theories as to why he was never in class. “Babe, you sound insane. Just let it go.”

But you couldn’t.

Competition lived deep within your roots, having an entire competition with the second top student in your graduating class in high school. Though the rage held between each other was never taken far outside of the academic realm, the two of you never thought to be friends and encourage one another. Thankfully, the two of you resolved the competition when the two of you realized you would be going into two very separate fields of study in college. 

Camren, who knew she was going to be a chemist from the time she first learned about chemistry, had told you she loved the competition – made it fun and kept things interesting. And there you were, going to school for Pre-Med with the same feeling. The two of you kept in contact, updating each other on the strive for greatness in college as well.

You kept a close relationship with a lot of your teachers, making sure to get on their good side before classes had really begun. You emailed most of them, especially your Anatomy and Physiology professor, Dr. Sahnya Heinz.

She was incredibly skilled in her field, leaving the active medical field to teach the new and future minds of medicine. It was a cliche line she delivered on the first day, but it encouraged that familiar competitive fire that dwelled within you.

You don’t quite remember how you came to figure out that Jake was ahead of you, but you had found out somehow from your professor, although it was an accident.

It made everything in you burn with anger and frustration. Anytime someone mentioned him, or mentioned the fact that you were second, you clenched your jaw and your teeth gritted together. Your friends had an inside joke that you were only mad because you had a huge crush on him.

“I barely even know what he looks like, Mel! I fucking hate the guy. Don’t start shit.” You’d plead, beer can in your hand in the lounge of some fraternity floor.

Over the next few semesters, you kept trying your hardest, spending most of your free time in the library, reading everything that you could to prepare for every exam. You wrote papers early, having them done at least three weeks in advance. As soon as you would be told about a new one, you’d immediately start finding sources.

You sauntered around campus, thinking that you would be way ahead of him. He still never showed up to any classes, aside from orientation and exam periods. You’d stare at him for a few moments while the teacher passed out the exam, looking over his face as much as you could.

His long hair would obscure your vision on occasion, making it hard to catch any of his features at all. From what you could see though, he had nice, full lips. His nose was something you could have stared at the entire exam period.

You watched him as he licked his lips, whispering a thank you to Heinz before grabbing his pencil from his desk and getting to work. You looked away from him as soon as Heinz put your exam on your desk, offering her a small smile and a quick thank you before getting to work.

It was almost spring break, meaning some of your assignments had been slowing, some of them had been increasing. A group of your friends from different majors told you about one of the lounge parties a fraternity on campus was throwing. “Sigma Tau has the worst lounge parties, Tamia. You know this.”

“They’re joining forces with the Delta’s though, so it’ll be better than normal! You have to come, you’ve always got your nose in a book. You haven’t drank with us in so long, I forget what you’re like when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t know… I need to work on this Midterm paper I have in Kainz’s class, it’s due next week.”

“Babe, it’s been done for weeks! You just keep editing it trying to find mistakes and there are none! I’ve literally read it five times. Please, go out with us, just tonight?”

You looked between Tamia and Mel, knowing in the end you would give into them anyways. “Ugh, fine! Tonight, and tonight only, just this once. If I don’t like it, though, I’m leaving and going to bed early.”

“You’ll have so much fun, I swear!” Mel and Tamia looked between each other, sharing expressions of excitement and happiness on their faces. You rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair.

You let them raid your closet, trying to throw something together quickly. Most of the time, Tamia and Mel never obeyed the dress code for the lounge parties, hating the idea of giving into the male gaze of the fraternity brothers. Tonight, however, was a bit different. The theme was Western, meaning it was cowboy hats and very tiny shorts.

You looked over the outfit that laid out in front of you, straw cowboy hat that Tamia had bought from Amazon (one for each of you), a pair of short shorts that may or may not show your ass a bit, and a red bandana top that Mel let you borrow last semester that you forgot to return. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even have the right shoes.”

“You forget we wear the same size, bitch, you’re going. No backing out.” They joked, tossing you a pair of white boots. “Just put that shit on while we heat up the curling iron, okay?”

“Fine, fine, okay.” You peel off your shirt, throwing on the one they picked out. Next to go were your pajama pants, which were replaced by the shorts. You kept the same socks on, knowing that nobody would see them anyways with the boots going up to the middle of your calf muscle. “I look fucking ridiculous.”

“You look fucking hot, now sit down while we do your hair and makeup,” Mel spoke, pulling out your desk chair while Tamia smiled wickedly with the curling wand in hand. You were nervous, looking at the both of them, but the good kind that settled under your skin and was left hidden behind the smallest smile.

You talked about upcoming exams with them while they did your hair and makeup, much to their dismay. They attempted to fill you in on the various drama situations going on around campus while you had been heavily plugged into your textbooks. You gasped often, finding shock and awe in some of the things they had been telling you about classmates.

They spoke about Jake, letting it slip that he had been planning on attending the party, joined at the hip with one of the girls he had been rumored to have been dating. One of the many. “Ugh, he just sounds like a douche. Gives me even more reason to hate him.”

“We’re not feeding into your delusion that he’s some douchebag. Dropping it.” Tamia spoke, putting her hands up in a surrender. Mel laughed, pulling away from you with an eyeliner pen in hand. “Maybe we’ll get you drunk enough to admit you like him.”

“I don’t like him, and I thought we were dropping the topic.” You looked at Tamia in the mirror, watching her face deadpan as she looked back at you.

“I have something hot in my hands, don’t be rude to me.” The three of you laughed, getting back into the rhythm of getting ready. You let them do their thing to you, curling the last bit of your hair and putting the finishing touches of highlighter on your brow bone.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, marveling at the job they did. You thanked them for getting you all dolled up, watching them change into their outfits. It was mostly just them taking off the sweats they were wearing, throwing them over the back of your desk chair. You took a few pictures with them in your mirror before finally deciding to head out.

The party had started a half an hour ago, walking into the party late like most people did. The three of you got in easily with matching the dress code, immediately looking for the drinks table. The boys in charge handed the three of you a free shot of anything you wanted. Mel chose for you, starting the night out roughly with a shot of Svedka.

You grabbed a Sprite from one of the boys in one hand, the shot of Svedka in the other. The three of you tapped your glasses together before downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it slipped down your throat, trying to soothe it with the taste and coolness of the Sprite. You shook a bit, throwing the cup away in a nearby trash can.

“That was fucking gross, I hate you so much for choosing Svedka.”

“I could’ve chosen something even more nasty, like Jack.” Mel laughed, leading the three of you over to a section in the lounge where you could stand a decent enough distance away from one another, instead of being piled on top of one another.

“I would have rather taken a shot of Jack, Mel.” You spoke, sipping more of your Sprite. Tamia pointed out a few of the people they had talked about earlier, letting you put names to faces.

In the midst, two of the Sigma brothers decided to start a dance battle, capturing the attention of those around them. Everyone joined in, gathering around the two guys. Mel and Tamia joined too, but you had slipped out of their grasp by telling them you had to use the bathroom.

You were happy to escape the party, sneaking out with a bottle of Smirnoff the boys had left unattended. You walked outside, taking a deep breath in. You were thankful to be met with the smell of fresh air, not smelling sweat and booze everywhere. Your peace and tranquility was ruined by someone’s voice, “Well, don’t you look adorable.”

Your head snapped towards the voice, seeing Jake sitting up against the bike rack with a cigarette between his fingers. “Shut up.”

“What? I can’t compliment you?”

“No,” you started, crossing your arms with the bottle still in your hand. “No, you can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I hate you.” Jake looked at you, up and down, taking a drag of his cigarette. You screwed off the cap of the bottle, taking a pull. You tried your hardest to not make a face, looking away slightly when the familiar sting settled in your throat.

“Why do you hate me? I’ve never spoken to you before.”

“Do I have to have a reason?” You asked, walking closer to him.

“Suppose not. But if I knew why you hated me,” he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping on it with his boot. “Then maybe I could find a way to make you not hate me.”

“Unless you flunk your next exam, I guarantee that won’t happen.”

“Oh, I get it.” He chuckled, standing up from the bike rack he was leaning against. He grabbed his cigarette butt up from the ground, tossing it into the nearest garbage can. He turned towards you, staring at you with his brown eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”

“You’re never in class. You shouldn’t be ahead of me.” You glared at him, lips moving into a frown.

“Just because I’m never there doesn’t mean I’m not getting the information. I work five, sometimes six days a week. We only have class three days a week. Typically, I gotta work those days. Heinz sends me the powerpoints and the assignment notes so I never miss anything.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you even work then?” You asked.

He chuckled, fingers brushing yours that were wrapped around the bottle. “Now if I told you that, it would ruin all the fun,” he looked you up and down once more, licking his lips slightly. “Well, maybe I’ll see you and your bottle inside.” 

You waited til the doors closed behind him to roll your eyes, and huff outwardly. You took the bottle of Smirnoff, turned on your heels and walked towards your dorm hall. You hated Jake. You really hated Jake.

—

Your midterms came and went. The stress decreased slightly, but only to be raised again as the end of the semester loomed around. Assignments started piling up, various papers and presentations due all around the same week. Since the end of Spring Break, you had been holed up in your room, left to your mountains of homework.

Your Microbio class had a presentation due that coincided with the research project you had been working on all semester long. Human Anatomy and Physiology (or affectionately known as BIO 312) had a major cumulative exam on the entire semester, which stressed you out more than any other homework assignment or exam you had.

Thankfully, your school held an all day event that attempted to boost the morale of the students on campus. Filled with a bunch of free things, you took advantage of everything offered.

Lined up on tables were various student organizations set up, with their own little games and prizes. A few of them had speakers that played the music they wanted to listen to, all speakers attempting to outman the other. However, the one that ended up winning was a tie dye station located in the lawn, handing out free t-shirts to dye.

One of the guys at the tie dye station had a wide smile on his face while his hands were dripping with dye. Setting your prizes down at a table where Tamia and Mel had put their things, you walked over to him. He welcomed you over with a smile, “Hey! Lookin’ to tie dye?”

“Yeah, I’m a medium.” You smiled at him, blocking the sun with your hand. He called over to Benny, asking him to pull a medium out for you. Benny handed you the shirt with a smile. “I’ve never dyed anything before.”

“Never?! That’s a crime against mankind, darlin’, let’s get this shirt dyed.” He spoke, talking you over the colors in each of the buckets. He explained to you some basic color theory, although you had remembered that from your high school painting class, you didn’t stop him; he was pretty when he spoke.

The curls on his head stuck out from the shaved sides, the gold of his earrings stood out underneath the blistering April sun. He licked his lips often, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. He helped you pick out the style you wanted, making sure the rubber bands were placed exactly where you wanted them. “I’ll dip them in the bucket for you so you don’t get your hands dirty.”

“Thank you. I could’ve managed on my own, but I definitely appreciate it.”

“Of course. What’s your name?” You offer up to him, before he lets out a chuckle. You question him with a pull of your eyebrows. “Jake talks about you.”

“You know Jake?”

“Yeah, he’s my twin.” As soon as the word left his mouth, you could see the resemblance; you almost scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. They were similar, especially in their features and their eyes, although the two of them had very distinct color differences. Josh, as he told you after dropping the bomb on you, had warmer eyes, filled with caramel colored hues of brown in relation to Jake’s colder tones; his eyes were a darker shade of brown, with the occasional gleam of flirtation laced within the reflection.

He spoke quite differently from Jake, mostly just with the sound of his voice. It matched their eyes, their personalities. Josh’s bright, bubbly stature followed in his voice, almost theatrical as he spoke. “I guess that makes sense, you two do kind of look alike. Minus the hair, of course.”

“Well, of course. Mine’s better,” you liked that about him - how kind his tone was. You attempted to grill him about what Jake was saying about you, curiosity flowing violently through your bloodstream as if it lit your body on fire. “He just says that you’re second in the Bio class you have with him, and that it makes you mad.”

“It does, Jake’s never there. I’ve seen him three times, and two of those times were for exams.” Josh wrung out the part that had been soaking in the dye for a bit, watching the water fall back into the bucket.

“Yeah, it’s cause he’s working all the time, if I’m honest. Jake stays home during the week to work at the nursing home in our hometown. We don’t really have a large CNA population, most of the people who work there are highschool kids, so Jake’s really been their guy. Especially since high school, as soon as he graduated he moved to full time. All the old ladies love him.” He snorts, dipping your shirt into the blue dye.

“I didn’t know that.” You thought he was lying about where he was, which is why guilt started to eat away at you. You felt terrible for making assumptions, but you couldn’t take any of that back now.

“Jake doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but we love him anyway.” You chewed at your bottom lip, rethinking your opinion of Jake. “You goin’ to the concert later tonight?”

“Hadn’t decided. Mel and Tamia want to, so I’ll probably end up going. Are you?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll probably go.”

“Do you know who’s playing?”

“Some local band I think? I’ve heard a lot of the girls think the frontman’s pretty handsome.” He spoke with a smirk. You promised him you’d go, just to see if the girls had been right. He handed you your t-shirt to hold while he grabbed you a plastic bag. He also handed you a piece of paper with instructions on how to take care of your new tie dye.

“Make sure when you wash it, you wash it by itself. Otherwise, you’ll dye all of your other clothes and believe me, you don’t want that,” he chuckled, as if he was speaking from experience.

You thanked him with a warm smile, waving to him before returning to your room. As soon as you got back, you opened your window, allowing the air flow to travel inside. It kept you cool, allowing you to walk around comfortably with a t-shirt and shorts on. You put your plastic bag in the closet of your room, writing on your white board to remember to take it out and wash it tomorrow.

You texted Mel and Tamia, knowing that Mel would probably have some smart comeback about why you want to go to the concert. It wasn’t that you didn’t join them on nights out, you just had a lot riding on your academic success. Not only because you were the first one in your family to go to college, but also because of your mass of scholarships that only continued to flow if your GPA was at a suitable level. Anything below a 3.2, and you would lose almost all of them.

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Are we going to the concert tonight?

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Mel

Are you offering to come with us without us needing to beg and plead for you to join?

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Don’t make me take it back, Mel

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Tamia

We’re absolutely going. Come to mine whenever you want to get ready :)

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

The doors open at 8 right? I’ll be over about 5:30-6ish. Gotta finish up this paper for Heinz real quick

You locked your phone before they could scold you for doing homework on a day that was designated for relaxation and recuperation. You pulled out your Anat and Physio binder, pulling out the sources you printed off in the library. You ran through the last one with a blue highlighter between your teeth. 

You set an alarm on your phone for five o’clock, saving enough time for you to shower.  You were about halfway through the last page when your timer went off. You silenced it, attempting to hurriedly finish highlighting the page. The article was placed onto your desk, highlighter returned to the cup on your desk filled with various writing utensils.

You pulled out your shower caddy, putting it on top of your dresser before pulling out your robe. You laid it over the edge of your bed, removing all of your clothes. You threw them into your hamper and put on your robe. You slipped on your slides, grabbed your caddy and traveled to the bathroom.

Underneath the uneven streams from the showerhead, you thought about Jake.

Maybe your first impressions of him were wrong. When Josh told you about the nursing home back in their hometown, you felt instantaneously bad for assuming that he just never showed up. You knew from what Jake had told you, that he had work, but you figured that was just an excuse.

You bit at the skin of your lips, hands on your shoulders as you soaked the warmth of the water in. You were pulled out of your thoughts very quickly as someone flushed the toilet, making the water fade in from super hot to super fucking cold. You hated the school’s water system.

You finished your shower quickly, drying off with the towel slightly before putting your robe on and throwing your hair up into your towel. You walked back into your room, locking it behind you. You set your caddy back where it originally was.

You threw on a pair of jean shorts that hadn’t seen the light of day since early October, pairing it with a long sleeve shirt that you had gotten back in high school for Christmas. It was plain, brown, but hugged your body well. The sweatshirt debate lasted a few seconds before you remembered how hot it was going to be outside. A record temperature for mid-April, almost 80 degrees outside.

When you checked your phone getting back from the shower, it was just barely five thirty. You texted the groupchat again, asking if it would be cool to come over a half an hour earlier than you had originally said. You knew it was a dumb question, you would always be welcome in their room. You chuckled at Mel’s response of, “Are you fucking dumb? Of course you can come over. Bring wine if you have any left! No carry-in’s allowed at the concert.”

You put your phone down for a second and slipped on a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough for you to stand in for a long time. They used to be white, but had gotten progressively dirty from the years of use. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and slid a few different bottles of wine into your backpack, separated by extra clothing so the bottles didn’t clink together.

You walked down the stairs, out the door and over to the other dorm building across the walkway. You scanned your keycard to get into the building, walking through the hallways waving to the RA on duty, McKenna. She had been in a few of your classes and was always incredibly nice.

Her room this year was actually a few down from where you were living. McKenna was a great RA, knowing exactly how to handle the rowdiness of the floor while still keeping the resident’s respect. She didn’t bother them unless she needed to, and they didn’t bother her unless needed. She kept it underwraps about the underage drinking that would inevitably happen, mostly by telling the floor they could do what they want, as long as they were quiet by quiet hours (which was around ten thirty on the weekdays, and one in the morning on the weekends).

You took the elevator to the second floor of East Sunderland, getting off as soon as the doors opened. The booths that had previously been up had begun to dissipate, bringing the plastic tables back into the buildings they belonged in. You took a last glance at the people cleaning before heading into Mel and Tamia’s dorm building.

You knocked on the door, coming as soon as you announced yourself to Mel and Tamia. The girls laughed as you walked in, looking at a picture of Mel from when they were a kid. The two of them showed it to you as you settled your bag onto Mel’s chair in the corner of their room. “Your buck teeth! Oh my God, you were adorable, Mel.”

“Oh shut up, I bet you didn’t look any better.” Mel spoke to Tamia, making the three of you laugh. “Anyways, what wine did you bring?”

“The Barefoot we didn’t finish the other weekend, and then I still had some Rose, so I brought those over too. I wasn’t sure what we were feeling.” Tamia pulled some glasses from her shelves, passing them out to the two of you. You filled their glasses with the Rose you brought.

The three of you talked specifics on the plans for tonight, hitting up another fraternity party as soon as the concert ended. There were two separate ones going on at the same time, so the two of you weighed your options over which one to go to. “The Sigs are throwing one, but I’d rather die. Delta’s throwing one, too, we’ll go to theirs instead. And maybe see if anyone’s at the Sig party that we like and stop there before heading back to the dorms.”

You walked down with them to the Athletic Department, hoping to have gotten there early enough to get a good spot. As soon as the doors opened, you were filtered through the doors, making sure that you were students with the college. The three of you half ran to the barricade, settling yourselves against it on the right side, although still somewhat in the middle.

The show wouldn’t start for quite some time yet, the three of you talked amongst yourselves about upcoming finals, what you had to do for various classes. You also found a few people around you to chat to while you waited, hearing laughter roaring through various parts of the crowd.

A few students from the Admissions Office had taken the stage, playing a random playlist of music that matched what the band was going to be playing. Rock thundered through the speakers, filling audience members with anticipation. Rochel addressed the student body, “Hello everyone!” welcomed by the sounds of cheers and screaming.

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the band comes on stage, so help us warm them up to the stage!” Everyone clapped, although some of the girls around you looked unenthused as they stared down at their phones. You checked yours for any text messages from any family members. You had nothing, so you put it back in your pocket.

Around four songs played before Rochel turned the microphone on again. Everyone shouted before she talked. “Well, it’s that time! Please, give a warm welcome to Greta Van Fleet!”

Rochel and the two other students walked off the stage, passing by what you had assumed to be one of the band members. He sat behind the drums, smiling and waving off into the crowd. You cheered for him along with Tamia and Mel, cheering just as loud when their bassist walked onto the stage. Both of their hair was longer, goofy smiles on their faces as they got situated with their instruments.

Your mouth hung open as you watched the last two boys walk on stage, seeing the twins. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He found you after a moment, sending a smirk your way. You closed your mouth, glaring at him. Mel laughed at you, noticing your demeanor shift. “How we doin’ tonight everyone?”

Everyone cheered. “A lot of you might know me and Jake, seen us on campus and stuff. It’s wonderful to see all of you here, coming to support us as we celebrate the onslaught of spring! It’s been a particularly warm one today, so make sure to drink water! There’s plenty to go around.”

Jake started them off, pick between his fingers as he strummed the beginning chords to one of their songs. Some of the girls had begun to scream, shouting at Jake’s response to Josh’s little speech before he began playing. His signature smirk formed, watching the girls go crazy, eyes scanning the crowd before he found you again.

As Jake continued to play, he looked over to you any time he could. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, enthralled by the way he looked on stage. You tried your hardest, truly, to look at any of the other boys on the stage aside from Jake but you just couldn’t. He fit the stage just right, bringing the attention away from Josh and demanding to be seen by the entirety of the crowd. He belonged up there.

Jake went to the center of the stage during his solo. Josh lingered around the drummer, keeping to himself, drinking whatever was in his cup. They kept on playing as Jake took the spotlight, everyone cheering and screaming for him. You kept silent, wanting to hear him play. His fingers worked against the frets of the guitar, not before sliding down and up it quickly. 

You tried to hide the awe you were in, but your friends knew. They saw it written all over your face. The frustration and annoyance you felt when you first spotted Jake on stage dissipated the second his guitar solo began. You swallowed thickly, watching as his attention turned from his guitar to you, pointing it in your direction. Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs pressed together.

This was going to be a long night.

The second the concert was over, Josh thanked everyone for coming. His smile was wide as he waved goodbye to everyone, walking off next to Jake who had his guitar by the neck before he passed it off to one of the stage hands. Josh put his hands on his shoulders as they walked off stage.

You stuck around mostly waiting for the crowd to die down before trying to leave the building. Mel and Tamia talked about the show, saying that it was fucking dope, commenting on how excellent Jake’s playing was. You didn’t speak about Jake’s playing, mostly praising Josh for his spectacular performance. “I never expected that voice to come out of him, how heavenly.”

“Talking about me?” Jake cuts through your conversation, walking over to you with Josh not far behind. You roll your eyes. Tamia and Mel congratulate him on such an amazing performance, gushing about how sweet his guitar looks. “Why thank you, ladies.”

“Mel! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come.” He gushed, wiping his hands on the sides of his khaki shorts he had changed into.

“Yeah, well, Miss Quiet over here wanted to see her archnemesis, didn’t you?”

“I-I–” You turned your head slightly towards Jake, who had an amused smirk written all over his face. “I did not, Mellie, stop lying.”

“By the redness of your cheeks, sweetheart, I’d say she was telling the truth.” You had barely noticed that Mel, Tamia and Josh had slipped away from the two of you, leaving you alone.

“I didn’t even know you were playing.” You admitted shyly, hiding underneath a guise of innocence.

“Even if you did, you looked pretty hot and bothered by my playing.” You held the back of your arms, trying hard to maintain eye contact with him. You looked into his eyes, they were staring straight at you.

“Yeah, sure. I actually came because Josh said he was going. He neglected to mention that he was going to be singing,” you looked at Josh who wore a smile that read ‘guilty as charged’ before patting you on the shoulder.

“Hey, you didn’t ask. You just asked if I was going.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled slightly. “Anyways, Sam and Danny are gonna spend the night in my room, so I’ll have to find somewhere else to be tonight. Are you guys going to either of the frat parties tonight?”

“We’re going to the Delta party. The Sigs’ reputation is not the best, and I don’t feel like seeing whether or not it’s right.”

“That is completely understandable. I shall see you ladies there then. You coming, Jake? We still have a lot to put away.”

“Yeah, in a second,” he turned towards Josh who had begun to walk away, waving him off before turning back to the three of you. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show, maybe I’ll catch up with you at the party.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, actually, I would.” He smiled at you before joining the other boys cleaning up their amps and cords.

“Jesus Christ, the two of you just need to fuck or something. I don’t think I can handle another interaction like that,” Mel joked, making a gagging face when she finishes her sentence. You pushed at her arm, turning around and walking out of the gym.

Tamia and Mel giggled profusely about your and Jake’s rivalry. The two even started making bets on when the two of you would finally ‘get it on’, as Tamia put it. You just rolled your eyes at the conversation, changing the subject to something different.

—

The party, though filled with lots of fun and drinking, was a bust. While Josh had shown up with his younger brother and his brother’s friend, as you learned, in tow, Jake was nowhere to be found. You thought to ask Josh why he wasn’t there, but he was too busy dancing with Micah. Through the grapevine, you learned that Micah and Josh had been together since high school.

You stayed around the party for almost two hours before you wanted to go back. A small part of you had wished Jake had actually come. You wondered if maybe the two of you would get along if you put your competitive nature aside. You tried not to dwell on thoughts of Jake’s absence for too long, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night with your girls. But when you had enough of the party, you shouted in Mel’s ear to let her know you wanted to leave.

Mel and Tamia had made sure you got back alright about two hours into the party. Your legs were tired and your feet had begun to hurt. The two of them stumbled with you back to the door of your building, making sure you were inside before leaving to go back. They almost came in with you, until you insisted otherwise.

Laying on your bed with your head pointed towards the ceiling you started thinking about Jake again. What was his reason for not being at the party? Did he just make those comments beforehand just to rile you up? It seemed like the only valid reason your impaired mind could come up with.

You grabbed your phone, almost dropping it on the floor. You sluggishly opened Instagram, and searched for Jake’s profile. You scrolled through, looking at the few photos he did have on his page. Most of the pictures he had were of his guitar, or places he’s traveled. You were sent into a panic when you realized you had accidentally liked an older picture of Jake’s, one from freshman year of college. Hurriedly, you unliked it and immediately locked your phone.

That had been a few days ago.

Now it was Wednesday and your first final exam was here. It was for the class you shared with Jake, BIO 312.  It wasn’t exactly final exam time, but Professor Heinz was going to be away at a conference for a week starting Friday. You didn’t mind, though, since it spaced out your other finals enough to have a decent amount of time to study for them.

You sat at your desk, looking over your notecards one last time before the exam began. A frequent look around the room and you noticed Jake walking in, going to a random seat a couple rows in front of you. He set his bag down next to him, before bending down to grab his laptop. He noticed you watching him and sent a wink your way.

You looked away as you tried to hide the rush of rosy skin that fanned over your cheeks and heated up your ears. You tried to ignore him again until at least when the test started, embarrassed that you got caught looking at him. Your phone pinged and you pulled it out of your bag to look at it, as well as turn it on silent.

jacobtkiszka wants to send you a message.

You swallowed and hit the notification taking you straight to the message.

“Person who turns their test in last pays for coffee?”

Your lips curved into a small smile, feeling your fingers type the first thing that comes to your head.

“Hope you brought your wallet with you, Kiszka.”

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back into your bag. The professor walked through the door, setting her things down on the desk in the front of the room. Her coffee mug still had steam coming from it, freshly poured. A quick look of her watch after getting settled and it was time to start the exam. “Okay, everyone. It’s time for class. Take out your laptops and begin your exam. You may leave when you have finished. Thank you for a great semester, and good luck.”

The questions on the exam were all ones that you knew and had studied for for weeks. It was strenuous, trying to remember everything on the cumulative exam. You had hoped it would go quickly and you would answer them faster than Jake could. Occasionally, you turned to look at Jake, seeing if maybe he was trying to look at you too.

With one question left of your exam, you click the answer and press submit after a minute of debate. You had a bad habit of second guessing yourself occasionally; it was actually the bane of your testing experiences. You hated when you felt confident about an answer, until you really sat with the other possible answers it could be.

You put your laptop back into your bag, zipped it up and noticed that Jake had already left. You cursed to yourself, knowing that now you had to buy Jake a coffee. You waved goodbye to your professor with a smile and walked out the doors. Jake sat outside of the classroom at one of the tables they had throughout the building. “Whatcha reading?”

“Josh recommended it to me, but I’m going to be honest, I fucking hate this book.” He laughed, shoving it into his bag. “You know any good coffee shops around here? I’m kind of tired of Starbucks.”

“I just so happen to know the best coffee shop in town, but it is a bit of a walk, if you don’t mind that?” You asked, walking through the door that Jake was holding before muttering a thank you to him. 

“I could also drive, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m more than okay with that,” you chuckle, letting him know that your dorm building had enough stairs; any chance you could get to use an elevator, or get driven somewhere, you would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.

The drive was short in comparison to the twenty minute walk it would have taken to get to the shop. Jake tried to offer the radio to you, but you let him play what he wanted to listen to. You didn’t know exactly who was playing, but the blues music that played through the speakers was a breath of fresh air.

Your typical shuffle had a plethora of music from differing genres, whether that be rap or old country. You hadn’t known much when it came to blues music, especially the difference between good blues music and bad. Eventually, you got the courage to ask who was playing and Jake answered, letting you know that the song was by Buddy Guy. “It’s called She Suits Me To A T. I tried for weeks to learn this song when I first started playing music more seriously.”

“This is the coffee shop, at the next corner.” You watched his hand as he made a right turn, noticing him steering with just the palm of his hand. Letting the leather steering wheel glide back to its original position in his hand, elbow propped on the door with the window rolled down.

It’s all you thought about on your way into the coffee shop, completely relying on autopilot. Your responses to Jake were almost textbook, one word sentences that could continue the conversation without much effort. “What’re you thinking of getting?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I usually have them surprise me,” you admit, shoving your hands into your jacket. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. That’s the gamble you take.”

“I like that a lot, actually. I think I’ll have them surprise me too, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.” You smiled at Jake before he went to order for the two of you. You found a place to sit in the meantime, offering a spot towards the windows so you could watch people come and go, each on their own paths of life.

By the time Jake sat down, both of the coffees were in his hand. After a few questions, Jake set the iced drink down in front of you, and the hot drink in front of himself. “Yours is an iced chai, with brown sugar syrup and vanilla. Mine is some sort of tea, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I just wanted to remember what she put in yours in case you liked it.”

“Oh,” you spoke, bringing the cup towards you. “Thank you, that’s really sweet. Do you like your drink?”

“You know, it’s really not bad. I wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise, but it’s really not bad.”

“You hate it.”

“I hate it. It’s not good.” The two of you chuckled before you offered him a sip of your drink. “Mhmm,” he moaned. “That’s good, oh my God.”

The two of you continued small talk, whether it was over the classes you had previously taken, memories of parties from past years – anything. You shared previous high school experiences, mostly about the ridiculous things that were considered parties in your teenage years.

Conversation with Jake was surprisingly a lot easier than you thought it would be. Especially since you’ve hated him pretty much your entire college career. You figured he’d be stuck up, aware of his academic achievements and ready to flaunt them in front of anyone who’d listen.

He was the opposite. His sentences were wrapped with kindness, and the reflection in his voice seemed nothing but positive. His voice was like silk, he could’ve talked you into damn near anything as long as his voice sounded like that. It hurt when the conversation slowed, spending a few moments to take in the scene around you two, as well as finally being able to drink more of your drink (which was very delicious, it was almost like crack).

“How long have you been playing guitar?” You asked after the silence became almost uncomfortable to sit with.

“Oh jeez. I’ve been playing since I was… like three? Yeah, three.” You stared at him with eyes slightly wide, mouth agape. “What?”

“N-Nothing, that’s just a really long time. You’re what, 21 now?” He clarified that he was only twenty, his birthday roughly a week away. You poked fun at him, mentioning how you were older, even if it was by less than a year.

“Josh is throwing us a birthday party, if you want to come. Since it’ll be our 21st, we’re having it at our parents cabin on Lake Michigan. You’re welcome to bring Mel and Tamia if you’d like. Sam and Danny are going to be there, even though they’re underage, but we’re gonna pretend like they’re older.” Jake spoke with one last sip of his drink, letting the empty cup echo on the table as he set it down.

“I will let Mel and Mia know. I can’t make any sure decisions without talking to them first, but I’m pretty damn sure that they’ll say they would love to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll say no either. They seem pretty adamant that you have a little crush on me or something,” he said, putting your cups inside of a bus tub to be picked up and washed.

“I don’t have a crush on you,” you laughed, walking out of the coffee shop with Jake. “I actually hate you, remember?”

“You may say that you hate me, but you’re not really good at showing it.”

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 2

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: You have this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of Steve's chest with words alone.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick (among other scarier pregnancy symptoms), language

Word Count: 3614

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Rain slammed against the window panes of the Harrington house like bullets. The cold seeped through the walls and ate straight through Steve’s pajamas, and the cup of coffee in his hands was doing little to remedy it. There was zero hint of sun in the sky, it seemed like there would be none all day, and Steve was really regretting coming out from under his covers. 

Steve had only slept in his own house three times over the past two weeks; he’d made quite the home for himself on your couch, living out of a backpack of clothes he’d stuck in the corner of your living room. You had asked him not to leave you alone, and what kind of man would he be if he had said no to that? He probably wouldn’t even have been able to, anyway.

He didn’t know if he would be allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and he had been too afraid to ask. 

While his father never really bothered to care where his son was, and his mother trusted him enough to let him do his own thing most of the time, he was still expected to show his face at home every once in a while. He’d been stuck with the closing shift last night (even though it was outside of his availability, so thanks for that, Keith), and he knew you’d be fast asleep by the time he made it back to your apartment. You’d called the store after you got home at the much more reasonable hour of six thirty. ‘I think I can live with being alone for tonight’ you’d told him. ‘I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.’ 

Fuck, Steve really needed a better job. Preferably one that paid him more and wasn’t open until eleven p.m. on a Thursday night. 

You worked a big girl job at the Roane County Historical Society museum. You were just a secretary, but you had a salary, insurance, and all that other grown up stuff. Nine to five, four days a week, and they helped with your college tuition, too. Come May, you’d have a History degree and a teaching certification, and word on the street said Hawkins Middle was about to have a need for a  new History teacher. Unlike him, you had the perfect five year plan laid out right in front of you. 

Y’know, as long as Steve hadn’t ruined it for you. 

By the time he woke up on Friday, his father was long gone. It was nearing one in the afternoon, and the big empty house felt extra big and extra empty today. Steve glanced out the window as he poured a second cup of coffee and saw the rain collecting in the bottom of the long-since drained pool in his backyard. A handful of stray leaves sat mixed with the rainwater, some stuck in a brown mass on the bottom, some floating lazily atop the puddle. 

He was startled out of his trance by his mother’s voice and nearly dropped his full mug.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, heels clicking along the tiles. “Or, good afternoon, rather.”

Meredith Harrington was the opposite of her husband in more ways than anyone could count. She actually enjoyed spending time with her child, for one, but there had never been an angry bone in her body. She wasn’t immune to frustration, or worry, but it was never unfounded. Yet still, for every wild flame of rage that shot from her husband's mouth, she counteracted with calmness. Or, more accurately, quiet, fearful resignation. Her husband never put his hands on her or their son, but Steve could always tell that she had spent her whole marriage walking on eggshells, waiting for the terrifying moment that he did, as if it was a simple inevitability. 

Steve loved his mom, but fuck, he wished she would just stand up for herself for once.

“God, Mom, you scared me,” Steve responded, leaning against the counter. 

“I do live here, too, y’know,” she poked back with a smile. “When did you get so jumpy?”

If she ever found out the real answer to that question, she would probably never let her son out of her sight ever again.

“Haven’t seen much of you these last couple weeks,” his mother observed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. She put the pocketbook she was holding down on the marble countertop of the island and crossed the room to lean against it, opposite her son. “I can tell, there’s far too much going on in that big head of your’s.”

Steve snorted at the well meaning insult. 

“It’s nothing mom, I promise.”

“Come on now, you know I don’t buy that,” his mother asked with arms crossed. “Talk to me, kid.” 

“I-I don’t know.” Steve was absolutely, in no way, ready to talk about any of what was going through his head, especially to his mom. ‘You might be a grandma come September’ wasn’t really something he could just drop in the middle of casual conversation.

“Is it a girl, maybe?”

Steve’s quiet was proof enough that his mother was, at least partially, right. She gave her son a knowing smile.

“Tell me it’s not Nancy again, right?” she asked. Meredith was generally a pretty forgiving woman, but Nancy had really broken her son’s heart. So, while she would always show nothing but kindness to the eldest of the Wheeler children, she didn’t have to like her. 

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Steve assured. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago.” 

“Good,” she replied. “Will I ever get to meet this mystery girl?”

Steve just shrugged, deciding it best to omit the fact that the “mystery girl” had lived across the street for eighteen years and swam in their pool every summer for a decade.

“You should invite her over for dinner some time,” his mother said. She leaned forward and pulled a piece of errant lint off of Steve’s shoulder with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll roast a chicken. It’ll be nice.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken?” she parroted back. “What kind of person doesn’t eat chicken?”

“She’s a vegetarian, mom,” he explained. 

“Ah,” his mom accepted. “Then I’ll make that broccoli cheddar casserole you like. You know, the one I make during Lent every year? Think she’d like that?”

“Yeah, I think she would.” Steve was trying his best to hide his smile, though he wasn’t doing it all that well.

“Alrighty.” She patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past him and gathered her purse. “Well, I have to go run some errands. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. You’re much too cool to tag along with mom to the grocery store. How could I have forgotten?”

“No! No, it’s not that, I-”

“I’m joking, Steve,” she assured with a smile. “Make sure that cup ends up in the dishwasher, okay? Not just in the sink.” 

“Dishwasher. Got it.”

“I love you! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!”

With that, the heavy front door shut and Steve was plunged into the silence of deserted suburbia. 

You were at work, he had the day off with no plans, and the idea of being at all productive sounded absolutely exhausting. He finished his coffee in two big gulps and decided the best way to spend the day would be to crawl right back into bed and wallow in his feelings.

Steve had, very much on purpose, kept most of his thoughts about your current situation to himself. Partially because every time you two did start talking about it, you ended up a slushy pile of tears in his arms. The other reason, though, the bigger reason, was that he was terrified that you would put all of your own wants and wishes to the side and do whatever he wanted you to. The concept of you having a baby you didn’t want just to appease him made him sick to his stomach.

His parents only got married because his mom ended up pregnant at nineteen, and having a baby out of wedlock in 1967 was a social sin of the highest order. So they planned a wedding in two weeks time (a small family affair, exclusively to save face and avoid the questions that arise with courthouse ceremonies), and moved into a big, fancy house so that everyone knew the Harringtons were a normal, run-of-the-mill, perfect American family. His father loved to point out all of the things he didn’t get to do all because Steve came along and got in the way, and his mother. . . 

She loved him. He knew that. He also knew that she had to pack up her life to play house with a man she was always a little bit afraid of, all because of him. His father always resented him for it, but his mom never did. At the very least, she never told him she did. 

The thought of doing to you what his father did to his mom absolutely fucking terrified him, but ‘terrified’ had been his baseline state of being pretty much constantly over the past two weeks.

Steve was no stranger to fear. He’d had extensive experience with the feeling; that sharp heaviness that settled itself behind his ribs and sucked every drop of oxygen out of his lungs. When it came at him hard and fast, that was when he could handle it best. This was not that. This fear was slow and achy, all-encompassing. It sealed itself onto his bones, like some sort of emotional slime. Like a fungus.

And, honestly, most of that fear was for you, not him. The worst thing that could happen to him was that he could end up being a shitty father, and while he would hate that more than pretty much anything in the entire world, it did sort of pale in comparison to your worst case scenario. You could die.

Yeah, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic, but you still could. It wasn’t all that far outside of the realm of possibility. You were already horribly sick, you had been for the past few weeks, and while you had been taking the constant nausea and incessant dizzy spells like a fuckin’ champ, it wasn’t like a positive attitude would be able to save you if you started hemorrhaging. 

Steve really hoped, for your sake, that you had yet to go down this train of thought, but he knew you most likely had. As terrified for you as he was, he understood that you were probably feeling all of it tenfold.

And yet, behind all of that, he was having a very difficult time squashing that tiny inkling of reckless hope that had been planted in the back of his head. He was still a 21 year old dick-head who had zero business taking care of a baby, and he definitely wasn’t allowed to be excited about it. For, like, a million different reasons.

Eventually, he fell back into a heavy-limbed sleep, but was woken up however many hours later by the shrill ring of the phone. A bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was just passed six o’clock. His mother should be back by now, right? He let it ring.

 A moment passed, and it rang once more. He debated for a moment if he even had the right to answer it anymore, but he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and picked it up anyway.

“Harrington Residence,” he grumbled, hoping whoever was on the other side could tell how frustrated he was to be awake. 

“Steve?” Your voice came through the line. It was strained, and he heard you trying your best to disguise the sobs coming from your throat. “It’s me.”

“Hey, woah, what’s going on? What happened?” he questioned, any annoyance gone. 

“Are you able to come pick me up?” you stuttered out between sniffles. “I’m at work. I-I have a flat tire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can,” he said.  

“Okay.”

“I’m on my way, alright? Five minutes, tops,” he told you. He had the earpiece of the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder, and the cord was stretched as far as it could go to reach into his bedroom as he haphazardly swapped his flannel pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans.

“Thank you.” Another sob.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insisted. “Hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

The rain had slowed back to a dismal drizzle that splashed into the puddles stretched across Steve’s driveway. The drive to the museum was usually short, but the evening rush (as if the barely-there Hawkins traffic could ever be called that) slowed him down just enough for it to be annoying. The museum had officially closed an hour ago, though stray patrons and evening administrative duties usually kept you back after hours. 

Steve saw you shivering underneath the awning that hung over the front doors, comparable to a lost kitten stuck in a thunderstorm. The shoulders of your sweater were soaked through, and as Steve pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car, he could see the angry black rivers of runny mascara that dribbled down your face. 

“What the hell are you doing waiting for me out here in the rain?” Steve asked as he jogged up to where you were standing. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing.”

“That creepy research assistant is in there and I hate being in the same room as him when there’s nobody else around,” you choked out, syllables broken up by wracking sobs. 

“Alec?” Steve asked, and you nodded. He pulled you tightly against him before adding, “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Please don’t do that,” you squeaked. 

“Let’s change your tire, huh?” Steve said, though he made no move to let you go. “Do you have the spare?”

“That-” your words were cut off by a pitiful sniffle. “That is the spare.”

“Of course it is,” Steve sighed, though he most certainly should not have, because it just spurred on more crying from you. “Hey, it’s alright. I can take you home and we can get a new tire on it in the morning, okay?”

“I just had a really bad day,” you wept into his shoulder.

“I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I spilled the hottest tea in the universe all over my legs,” you croaked. Steve winced at the image. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into the top of your head.

“And since it was so hot, I accidentally said ‘motherfucker’ in front of a tour group that consisted exclusively of second graders!” you added. Steve would have laughed at that if you weren’t so wildly upset. “And Creepy Alec was being creepy all day long-”

“My offer still stands.”

“And then I came out here and my fucking tire was fucking flat!” you exclaimed, punctuated by another bout of wailing, the kind that made your whole body shake and your voice stutter. Steve took it the best he could, petting the back of your head and holding you tight, wishing he could go into your brain and dig all of the bad bits out. 

“Let me get you home, and we can get you into some dry clothes and deal with your car in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimpered. 

Steve let you go, but when he went to pull you along to his car so the pair of you could leave, you stayed planted right where you were. You lifted your watery eyes to meet his, and he gazed at you from where he stood.

“Steve?” you quietly asked him. 

“Yeah?” Steve responded. A silence fell between the two of you, though the lazy rain and evening downtown traffic poked holes through it.

“I wanna keep the baby.”

You had this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of his chest with only words alone.

“That-” came out of fucking nowhere, holy shit!, he didn’t add. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you muttered over a wobbly lip.

Steve was paralyzed. The soles of his shoes had been superglued to the pavement and his arms had been turned to stone. It was somehow both exactly what he did and did not want to hear all at the same time, because deep down in his gut he knew he wanted that too, but there was a laundry list of reasons why it was a bad idea, why it was irresponsible, why it was maybe everything he ever wanted, and- 

“Steve, if you don’t want to do this, that's okay, but I need you to tell me. Now.” Your voice, shaky and full of fear and yet so, so determined, pulled him up and away from his thoughts once again. 

“I do!” he exclaimed, maybe with a bit too much fervor. He regained his ability to move and closed the gap between the two of you in one wide step. “I do.”

You stood silent with your glassy eyes staring bullets into his. 

“Look, I’m gonna start talking, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop, so if it gets to be too much, just shut me up, okay?” Steve said. He brought his hands up to grace your shoulders.

“What?” you questioned, confusion laced throughout your miserable expression.

Steve had spent the last three and a half years doing everything he could to drown out the sounds of his feelings for you, and Robin was right. It was destroying his brain. 

“I’m really, really in love with you,” he said. “And I have been for a really, really long time. Since way before this, fuck, since before Starcourt, and I’m so fucking sorry for not having the guts to say it until now. I’m the universe’s biggest coward for that-”

“You are not a coward!”

“-And I know you deserve better, but for some reason that still eludes me, you’ve stuck with me through all the bullshit, anyway. You could’ve run away whenever you wanted to, you could’ve gone with your parents when they left, but you didn’t, and that has to mean something, right?”

“Steve,” you wept.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do this with you, alright? Not a single fucking thing,” he assured you. “I meant what I said. Holding your hand the whole time.”

Steve took your trembling hand into his own, fingers fitting together like lock and key. 

“If you’ll have me,” he added.

Your lips wobbled, you let out another shattered sob, and you kissed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Like you would drop dead right on the spot if not for his lips on yours. Steve kissed back, because he knew he would drop dead if he didn’t, and now he had tears to match your own.

“I’m really, really in love with you, too,” you blubbered after the pair of you pulled apart. You had a hand on either side of his face, fingers ghosting over the junction of his jawline and neck, and Steve had his wrapped delicately around each wrist.

“You really wanna do this?” Steve asked you. “You really mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“I really mean it,” you said definitively. You were still very much crying, though you were infinitely less miserable than you had been five minutes ago. The pair of you stayed swaying in each other's arms, protecting each other from the cold.

“Good, because I really mean it, too,” he responded. 

The thick, foggy haze of emotion was beginning to dwindle, and despite the warm bubble of affection the two of you had created, you were still standing out in the rain. And Steve was pretty sure he could see Creepy Alec spying on them through one of the second story windows.

“Let’s go home. I’ll make you dinner,” Steve murmured to you, and you nodded in agreement. 

Steve drove you both back to your apartment and made a feast of plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, because it was all your stomach could really handle right now. Turns out, he very much was allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and after he’d finished doing the dishes in the sink, he joined you under the pile of blankets that adorned your mattress. Your cat curled itself up at the end of the bed as you drew yourself into his side. He didn’t remember you being this cuddly, but it was a change he was more than happy to welcome.

After a few minutes, when he’d thought you had fallen asleep, your voice pierced through the quiet of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna be someone's dad,” you muttered into his pajamas. Fuck. He was, wasn’t he?

“You’re gonna be someone’s mom,” he shot back.

“Weird,” you responded. “I think you’ll be really good at it.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Definitely.”

And of course Steve was still fucking terrified. Terrified of the monsters, and of his dad, and of all the different ways this could go south, but he had you tucked up against his chest, and he was gonna be someone’s dad, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about any of the scary stuff. In this moment, for the first time in as long as Steve could really remember, the underlying current of fear that ran along his thoughts was finally overpowered by just how much he fucking adored you.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e0509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @plk-18 @hoesbloated

[flamingo-writes]

Hi flamingo how are you? How are you with your leg pain since the move? Have you been resting? I hope so!

Well as always I leave you a mini request before starting the week ;)

What do you think that, reader is a not so well known singer ,who is starting out in the world of music and meets Hobie in one of their own performances when they are singing on stage.

hope you have a wonderful week tysm <3!

I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve had a bit of a writer’s block. I powered through it though. I thought of a million ways this could’ve played out and went for the one I liked the most. I hope you like it too, and I’m sorry for the late reply 😢 I rewrote this like three times help 😭 whenever I wanted to sit and write I ended up doing a lot of other things.

With A Little Help — Hobie x Reader

Title inspired by the song by the Beatles With A Little Help From My Friends. The bicycle thing is inspired after a real accident I had once, except I don’t play the guitar and but I did get hit on a freshly made tattoo 🥲

Warnings: cursing,

The moment you decided to start a band with your friends, you knew from the beginning it would go one of two ways.

You could either sign with a producer and basically sell yourself like whores. Somehow gaining a debt just by signing a piece of paper, and working an ungodly amount of hours just to pay your debt, and hope the fame you’ve gained actually helps you make money after the percentage the producing house gets. Becoming puppets for the producer to move around the way they want.

Or you could do everything yourself working with what you had. Recording wherever you found available –sometimes that place being your own room–, asking friends if you could borrow equipment or instruments. Asking for favours. Gathering coins your couch has been swallowing and hoarding for years to print a few hundred copies of posters announcing your next gig.

And out of the two, you knew perfectly well which one you wanted. One of them helped you maintain your freedom, which was exactly what your music spoke about. Gathering a small and loyal fanbase was relatively easy in the low underground bars. The punk scene, the alternatives, and the rock fans soon spread the word around their friends. Eventually, these same people started offering their help with equipment, a few bills for copies, even instruments. It was still a small fanbase, but it was more than enough and they were all somehow more helpful than most people

One day in particular, your guitar player gave you a call. To your nerves, you picked up your phone, furious.

“Where the hell are you?! You’re so late! We’re supposed to start playing in ten minutes!” You barked.

“Ye-yeah…About that…” Your guitar player said with an awkward chuckle. “You see, it’s a funny story…”

“Oh god, no…” You groaned.

“Listen. First of all I’m fine–”

“What the fuck does that even mean? Wait, shit, bruv, did something happen to you?”

“You see, this is where the story gets funny…” They said with an awkward giggle. “I was minding my own business, on my way to the bar. I was on my bike. Riding it, you know. When an old lady and a tiny ass dog appeared out of nowhere, from the corner. In an attempt to not run over either of them, I turned and there was a tree–”

“You can’t be serious…” You gasped, “you alright?”

“In the greater scheme of things, yes I am…But…I kinda hurt my wrist very badly…”

“God, I’m scared to ask…how badly…?”

“Uh, I don’t think my skin is supposed to look purple…And the lady I almost ran over is offering to drive me to the emergency room?”

“Shit. What do we do? Do we cancel—“

“No! Don’t! I don’t know. Improvise?”

“How? You’re our guitar player!”

“Go wild on the bass?”

“Fuck off!” You groaned, annoyed.

Hobie Brown was not far from there, hearing to actually both sides of the conversation through his enhanced hearing. Helping your drummer setting everything up.

“I think something happened to your guitar player, mate?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hearing…” Your drummer said nervously.

“If you guys need help, I know how to play the guitar…I can sight read too, but if you give me a couple of minutes to look through your songs, it would be better…” Hobie said as your drummer’s face widened in surprise.

“Dude, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Hobie said, smirking confidently.

“The motherfucker broke–”

“We found a guitar player!” Your drummer interrupted, raising both arms in the air happily.

Hobie giggled and looked over at you. Your eyes remained wide and confused, wondering when the roller coaster of emotions was going to end. You knew him. You didn’t really, but you’d seen him around enough to recognize his face.

“Seriously?”

“Sure, why not?” He said, shrugging.

“Oh god, thank you! Thank you so much, mate!” You said happily, running your hands through your hair in relief, making Hobie chuckle.

“Call me Hobie,” He said with a cheeky smirk.

You introduced yourself, as well the rest of your band. As you discussed what t do for the set list, you insisted Hobie didn’t improve and sight read all of your songs, and instead settled for a set list made out of mostly covers from famous songs, and just leaving a few of your original songs distributed for Hobie to take a break from a hyper concentrated state.

As the anxiety was rising in your belly, about to make you puke a minute away from starting your gig, Hobie grabbed your shoulder, catching your attention.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” He said, trying to comfort you. “And if it blows, then what the hell? It’s not going to be the last time you play. That way you could always make a dramatic comeback and look even cooler,”

His words while making you feel less scared about it all, it did nothing for your nerves.

Although as soon as you started playing, the music consumed you. Playing with Hobie instead of your guitar player was simply different. Not that any of them was better or worse than the other, but the dynamics changed drastically. Despite not really knowing Hobie that well, the interactions on stage were fun, spontaneous, even comfortable, like you’d known him for way longer than just the last hour.

Hobie not only exchanged glances with you and walked over to you while playing his guitar, he also went over to your drummer. Sometimes jointing you for the choruses of the covers, or adding spontaneous riffs to guitar solos.

By the end of the gig, people were crazy, screaming, jumping around. As you grabbed the mic, covered in sweat and breathless you thanked them.

“We’d love to stay, but we actually have to go check out on our friend…” You chuckled. “Our guitar player had Ana vidente earlier today, and couldn’t play. We had the magnificent Hobie, here, helping us out!” You sighed. “Let me hear it for Hobie for being a real one!” The crown screamed and clapped, as Hobie smiled at you.

“Thank you for letting me help,” Hobie said, walking over to the mic and grabbing it. “Thank you guys as well!”

“Oh yeah. You guys made this very fun!” You said going back to the mic, your face bearing Hobie’s as he glanced at you with a smirk, “Have a good night, everybody!”

As you walked behind the stage, you grabbed a towel you had nearby and dried your face and hair.

“Good job out there,” Hobie said walking behind you.

“Thank you! It was all possible thanks to you!” You said looking up from your towel. “I’d love to stay and talk but…”

“Yeah, go check on your friend. You can buy me a beer some other time to return the favour,” He said with a cheeky smirk.

“Just one? An entire gig for just one beer?” You joked.

“Well, at least three,”

“Sounds like a deal,” you sighed, meeting his stare and biting your lower lip softly. Seriously, thank you…”

“My pleasure,” He said confidently, meeting your stare, as you noticed something in them sparking.

“See you around?”

“I hang out here an awful lot so, yeah,” He shrugged, putting his hands in the pockets of his vest.

[blueberryinko]

How about this story idea/request??

Due to Covid + Quarantine, a boyfriend had been stuck over seas not being able to get back with her girlfriend back in the US (so imagine if the story took place today, that would of meant he was stuck in that other country for at least three years), only to finally get the opportunity to get back home.

He would get to his house where he and his girlfriend lives when when his went to finally see his gf again, he would see how quarantine had affected her; due to the need of money, she had to take jobs as a surrogate (with the current one being her 5th surrogate pregnancy with many, many multiples) with the cravings hitting her pretty hard, as she is now a heavily pregnant fat doughball, barely able to waddle and not being able to wear clothes due to her size (she also lactates a lot).

Then after a hard but loving conversation, the boyfriend admits that she loves the way his gf looks, with the couple getting into it.

Also you don’t have to write this, but maybe the boyfriend was stuck in Japan cause it was one of the first countries to get hit by COVID.

(Oh my fucking GOD this is so hot.)

Quarantine Gestator

(Minor reference to farting here only in the humorous sense, I promise)

“Can you believe I’m coming home soon?” Adam asked, looking at his computer screen, his girlfriend’s face showing on the monitor, though anything below her head was cut off.

“What- wait really?” Brie’s voice was pitchy and tinged with alarm, though she tried to mask it as enthusiasm. What would he say if he saw her like this? “Wh-when do you think you’ll be back?” She tried to probe gently, Adam not seeing his girlfriend’s nervousness. “Oh by next week at the latest.” He replied nonchanatly. “NEXT WEEK?” She yelped, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. “Oh my God, I- I can’t wait to have you b-back!” Truth be told she was dreading him coming back and seeing what a pig she’d made of herself.

Adam hadn’t seen his girlfriend in three years. The coronavirus pandemic had him stuck in Japan, only able to see her through Zoom calls. The time difference made it so that one of them was always tired and lethargic. She’d stopped showing her body a while back because ‘she’d grown too big to show ANYTHING off now.’ Being a professional surrogate, he’d gotten to see her belly grow with multiples twice over the pandemic, and he’d loved seeing every inch of her belly swell out larger and larger with half a dozen lives.

Being stuck in Japan hadn’t been all bad. Sure, the paper-thin walls of his apartment meant he could hear his neighbour blowing up her girlfriend like a hot air balloon, but the sights were still cool, he got delivery fresh from the restaurant across the way, and he’d managed to keep relatively healthy. The same couldn’t be said for his girlfriend.

“Hey honey, I’m ho-ome!” He called, opening the door to his apartment. “I-in here!” His girlfriend called. Last she’d updated him, she was seven months pregnant, and to his utter amazement, with eleven babies “Coming-holy shit babe!”

The sight Adam had walked into was.. really fucking hot. Brie had let herself go too much during the pandemic. She had REALLY let herself go. She was quite literally a huge ball of flab and baby, a doughball if he could make any such comparison. Adam felt his blood rush south as his jaw dropped, eyes wide. “B-brie.. baby, you look…”

Brie’s plump, round cheeks were a bright crimson, flapping her hands. Her body jiggled slightly as she did, completely humiliated by her titanic size. She was also, to Adam’s added arousal, completely naked, pink, puffy nipples gushing milk down her front. “Like a cow?” She knew it, she was a disgusting slob, she couldn’t even move of her own accord! Adam shook his head fervently. “No, god no, Brie, never! You look like a goddess!” He approached her, rubbing her soft, fat flesh gently. She cooed, sniffling. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Adam murmured. “You must have been so lonely.” He murmured. Quarantine had kept them apart for three years. “So.. when did you get, you know, this big?” He asked. Brie didn’t really know, but she could make an estimate. “Somewhere around a year and a half in? I think? I don’t know, I was carrying like seven babies back then, and my body just.. never lost the weight it gained. Doctors said my body was self-sustaining now at least, so there was that. I got used to it, but I didn’t want to show you my face, I love being like this, but I was so afraid you’d stop loving me.”

“Brie, how could I?” Adam reasoned. “You and I, six years we’ve been together, even longer we’d been best friends. I love you no matter how big or how small you are.” A kick from the babies made her body shudder, and Brie moaned. “What was it, thirteen babies in here this time?” He asked gently, kneeling to rub her belly. She confirmed with a nod. “Y-yeah, f-five families, a batch each.. the docs pumped me real full…” She moaned, the feeling of Adam’s hand orgasmic to her. She was so sensitive nowadays she could barely think, let alone waddle. Speaking of…

Her crotch dragged along the floor as she waddled. Small mews and whimpers escaped her as she did so, pounds and pounds of luscious, fatty flesh jiggling as she did so, the big butterball breeder simply unable to move under her own weight. Well, she could, just not for long. Adam caressed her belly as it met his hand. “So, you’re stuck like this?” Brie nodded, her chin hitting the thick layer of flab that was her divot. “For the rest of my life.”

“Then I’m moving you in to my place,” Adam decided. “We can get you a barn, some milking machines and an ultrasound room for you, I got a huge insurance payout from the airline after my flight delay.” Brie started to deny it, but Adam stopped her with a kiss. “Trust me babe, you can be my fat, bloated cow as long as you want.” Brie spluttered, “I don’t exactly like-nngggaaaahh!” She squealed as her clit throbbed, the weight of her pussy on the floor causing pressure in her underside.

“O-okay, I do like being like this.” Brie admitted quietly. Adam grinned, leaning down. He began to suckle from her teat, and Brie’s eyes went wide. “Oh, fuck, Adam!” She gasped as milk flowed down Adam’s throat. The babies kicked, and Brie wished they were theirs. Adam continued to drink, squeezing Brie’s golf-ball sized nipple, watching as a river of milk splashed down his girlfriend’s expanse, dripping down his chin. He stopped to take a breath, wiping his chin. “That.. tastes fucking amazing.” Adam grinned, rolling her further onto her belly.

“Adam-Adam, oh, sh-shit!” Brie shuddered, her entire frame reverberating as fat flesh slapped on her wooden floor. She flapped her hands, no longer in control of her body. The cold air wasted no time in chilling her sensitive, swollen labia, making her shiver. “C-cold, baby!” She whined. Adam leaned over, his hands over her head, fingers sinking slightly into her taut flesh. “I know love, want me to warm you up?” He asked gently.

Her coos were all the answer he needed, beginning to rub her belly. The sensation of dozens of unborn lives wriggling and shifting inside her caused her turgid frame to wobble, and she adored it. The fact that Adam seemed to be just as into it was a huge bonus for her. Her skin felt electric, his hands quickly warming her body. “Nnf- oh fuck!” She was a fat, baby baking blimp, and he was handling her like she was a modern angel, careful and loving.

“Fuck, you’re so big.” Adam hissed, playing with her fat belly. He wondered if her diameter would count as an entire baby bump in and of itself, layering kisses down her gut. “Aaanh!” Brie’s breath hitched, feeling him trailing down, down, down. Then, she felt hands on her underside. Then she was rolling. Her massive weight began to bowl around the room. “Uwaaaa…” If she could rub herself, she would. The feeling was heavenly, his hands manhandling her as she went. “Imagine what you’re gonna be like with MY babies inside you.” He growled possessively.

“A-Adam!” She started, and Adam watched as she babbled, her head coming around again to look at him from her divot. “You like that my big breeder?” She was helpless to him as she settled on her side. He kneeled down, taking her head in his hands and kissing her. “A-Adam, fuck, I want your babies!” She loved being a surrogate, but the primal, fertile side of her said she wanted her man’s babies cramming her womb, kicking and wriggling as they threatened to pop their big, fat mama.

“Oh I know baby, but don’t you like helping other families too? These babies are your gifts to the world, to people who want their own families.” Adam whispered, kissing her forehead. “Besides, you’re just a vessel now, right? What’s stopping anybody from, y’know, taking you as their breeder?” The teasing was too much. Brie’s pussy throbbed with need and her reddened cheeks heated further, sweat dripping down her chubby cheeks.

“N-nothing…” She mewed. Adam grinned, standing up. “Exactly, Brie. Nothing. Which means I can claim you.” She was rolling again, head over ass as she went, until her body pressed against the wall, her feet just barely touching the floor. Adam unzipped, his manhood threatening to tear his boxers in half. She couldn’t see it, but she sensed the shaft rubbing against her belly. “A-adam!” She needed him badly, and he knew it. Stripping off his boxers, he positioned himself.

“Such a big, fertile belly, gonna get so much bigger.” He teased, sliding his cock into her navel. She instinctively clenched around him, and he hissed. “Good girl, so fucking tight, aren’t you.” He loved how big her boobs had gotten, and as he fucked her belly, he leaned over, taking an engorged boob in his mouth. He squeezed and milk flooded his mouth. It was rich and almost like vanilla. “Adam, p-please-!” She gasped, flapping her hands. Adam kept a firm hold of her, pumping her for all her worth. She was surprised he was so eager, but she supposed her milk tank were just so big he couldn’t help himself.

Once he’d gulped down his fill, he wiped his mouth. He increased his speed, watching as she jiggled. He imagined her in the future, rolling about their house, moaning about how fucking pregnant he’d made her, his fat bred bride barely able to waddle under her weight. They’d have to get helpers, maybe maids. Those thoughts were naughty enough, and he could think of several ways they could help her. He was rigid, and Brie didn’t think he could get any bigger. “A-adam, gotta cum, g-gotta- please-!” She begged, vibrating visibly, creaking loudly.

SLAP, SLAP, SLAP- “Almost- there!” Adam came with a grunt- “UWAAA!” She came with a wet splash, shaking and shuddering as she rode out one of the longest orgasms she’d ever had. Brie gasped and panted for breath as it finally ended. She’d been pent up for a full two years and she was so glad she’d been able to cum. Adam wasn’t done yet though. And she was ready.

He rotated her body, grinning as her fat womanhood rose to meet him, her swollen underside glimmering with the slick results of her orgasm. Adam inserted a finger, testing. “Nggff!” She mewed, and he knew she was just if not more sensitive down here. “So wet.. all for me? Good baby baker.” He wasted no time in impaling her on his cock. She took him easily, and he was big enough that his head probed her cervix. He shifted his hips, pulsing inside her.

“A-adam, h-when did you get so— nyaaah! Big!?” She begged, alarmed at his size. He slowed, concerned he’d hurt her. “D-don’t stop!” She whimpered. He took it gentle, slow. Her heartbeat was so fast her skin was flush and hot, damp with sweat that dripped down her diameter. She was at the peak of her pleasure and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Any other man would surely have broken up with her, but not Adam. He sped up, fucking her vigorously. “Ngggh, nggh, graah!” He growled, her moans in tandem with his, plap, plap, plap, the slapping of their skin went. She couldn’t possibly get more pregnant than she was now, but he could certainly try.

“Breed me, breed me, fucking make me huge!” She begged, and as Adam came with a roar, her body billowed, stretchmarks becoming paler and harsher, her diameter straining and bulging to contain his gigantic load. She could feel his swimmers racing inside her, pumping her to the max. It was so much to bear that Adam fell back, taking her with him as she became plugged with his cock, sat right at the entrance to her cervix. “Whooaaa!” She squealed, landing on him with a soft whoomp.

He was pinned under her, and he wasn’t sure he could get up. They stayed like that for a while, Brie just enjoying being his cocksleeve, keeping his warmth enveloped in her puffy, pregnant lips. Then- “I really need to fart.” Adam admitted. Brie groaned. “Please don’t, please don’t-“ Too late, he’d already done it. “Babe!” She giggled, wrinkling her nose. “That’s so gross!” Adam laughed along with her, “C’mon, you’ve farted before too!” Brie squawked. “Yeah but not while someone has been inside my vagina!” The ridiculousness of the situation caught up to them and they couldn’t help but collapse into laughter.

Eventually Adam managed to roll her off of him, climbing on top of her. “Did you mean what you said?” She asked him. “About wanting your babies inside me?” Adam laid down on her belly, his head poking over the risen mountain of her cleavage. “Yeah. I love seeing you so fertile and fucked full of babies, but I want you to be my baby mama. Maybe exclusively just my babies one day.” He admitted. Brie bit her lip, before confessing something. “At the end of this pregnancy I get a thirteen million dollar payout. We could get married and start building our family.”

Adam gaped, before clambering over her breasts and kissing her. “You know how much I love you, right?” Brie mewed, kissing him back. And as his cock became stiff once again she raised an eyebrow. “Ready for round three? I wanna suck you instead this time.” And he did so eagerly.

-

Thirteen years later

“Belle, help me roll your mother to the truck!” Adam ordered. He helped his wife out of their mansion, the double doors built for her giant circumference. Their daughter rushed to help them. “Jesus Dad, was just trying to wrangle the octuplets! They’re being fussy with Millie and Jane again.” Their helpers were loyal friends to the family, but even they struggled with the twelve children the fat doughball of a woman had bred for Adam.

And she was very overdue with seven more, her body having delayed labour for a while to ensure the healthiest babies, somehow her body just knew, it was designed for incubating now. And finally it was time for the babies to be born so they had to drive a little ways up their land do the birthing house, where Adam and Brie could be in private for their new arrivals.

“Okay, go back and help them then, try and get them down for their afternoon nap?” Their daughter rushed off and Brie moaned through another contraction. “Baby stop worrying, we’ve done all this before..” She came with a grunt, another contraction tightening her diameter. Adam sighed. “I know, I just worry about you.” Brie chuckled. “Don’t, I know what I’m doing.” She murmured. As she was strapped into the truck, Adam rushed around to the driver’s seat.

Brie was a big, several hundred pound breeding blimp of a woman. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ratherbefangirling]

Single dad Namjoon AU

Ok imagine We have a Single dad Namjoon and the maknae line as his three kids.

Namjoon who divorced his ex because of differences and she took a job abroad leaving the kids on him. Leaving twins Taehyung and Jimin with him Jungkook is his god child?(and he'd already bonded with the little boy as they were neighbours too). Jungkook's parents were his good friends but they died and the others of Jungkook's family didn't want him. Jungkook the shy innocent baby, Taehyung who is the most mischievous but also befriends every one, Jimin who was innocent and caring and sensitive but all of them were still young.

And we have the you. A someone enjoying her single life and career. But you love cooking Maybe cause you came from a big family so when you learned cooking it was in big batches. And so you continued making large portions and putting them into a separate freezer unit you bought on sale so you can reheat and eat it and not have to think about meals throughout the week.

So whenever you has extra left over you give it to neighbours. (Feed thy neighbours)

And you meet Namjoon newly shifted because he got a good job and the area is a good neighbourhood.

The three 'munchkins' as you call them are so cute so whenever they request for something you include that for next time (even though the kids have some questionable suggestionslike chips in rice) . The kids have interesting ideas. It's also fun to feed them different cuisines. Sometimes they even help you and it feels nice to make dumplings together even if they are funny shapes sometimes.

One day when he's busy you even go to the kid's school because someone was bullying Jungkook. Jungkook hugs you and even calls you mom and your heart softens for the boy. (You decide to teach him self defense too later.)

So when Namjoon gets a promotion. He goes to buy his kids toys for Christmas. Buys good card stock paper and writes you a letter (probablythe sweetest one you've ever recieved). Thanking you cause he had been struggling making dinner and ordering out was unhealthy. Many times youe meals saved his day. He puts in some cash in an envelope and gives it to you next time you come. A little Christmas gift. Because you were sent to him as a blessing from the universe.

You didn't have to.

I wanted to. You were the first one I wanted to tell.

Yes you enjoyed a single life but you could understand why someone would dedicate themselves to kids too.

Like When Taehyung came from school after you taught him math and hugged you. Or when Jimin saved most if not all his pocket money to buy you a beautiful dinner set. Or when shy Jungkook came after school religiously helping you prep ingredients and learned how to cook your comfort meal (because you got sick one day and wanted your comfort meal) and your favourite meal (to surprise you for your birthday) .It nice to go on picnics with them or camping with them. It was nice when you felt to drowsy to move by the campfire. Namjoon put a shawl on you so you don't catch a cold. Or when Namjoon 'rescued' you from a date and treated you to cheesy fries after.

So yeah that's it.

Feel free to add on.

[unrulywritings]

{Too Little ❤️‍🩹 Too Late}

Summary: In which Alex accidentally spills his guts to his best friend… his newly engaged best friend ❤️‍🩹

Word Count: ~3.4k ❤️‍🩹

Category: Angsty-ish/Fluff ❤️‍🩹

Trope: Friends to Lovers/Love Confession (part one?); GN reader (alluded afab like twice) ❤️‍🩹

Warnings: Not much I don't think, cheating (not Alex), some swearing, mostly they/them usage (sorry if I missed changing any, I decided to change it halfway through), usage of pet names (love, sweetheart, darling), usage of Y/N (just once I think), possibly cringe writing, grammatical errors, my first fic- (feel free to tell me if there's anything else)❤️‍🩹

A/N: I'm sorry if this is cringeeee- this is my first fic I'm actually posting to the world so constructive criticism is welcome- if this goes well I may start regularly posting idk but enjoy -🌈 Rainbow❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

🎼 You had been engaged for one week. One terrible exhausting week. Your boyfriend, now fiancé, was late home tonight… again. You'd been having your suspicions about him for a while but did nothing, I mean you had suspicions but no proof. So why blow up something good when accusations were unfounded… right?

Well that was until now-

“I'm sorry that you had to hear it from me,” the sweet apologetic voice says, “I want you to know that I had no idea he had a girlfriend or anything and I'm so sorry, I feel like a fucking idiot, and terrible person.” you listen to the poor girl on the other side, shuffling through the photos from the manila envelope you found in the mail today.

“Yep, those suspicions were founded then” you think as you see a picture of your fiancé with not one but three different girls in different photos. How one has the time to trick not only one person but four into thinking you’re in a committed monogamous relationship is baffling. The girl on the other side of the phone is one of those girls just like you. Apparently she had gotten your number from someone and felt so guilty she needed to call you to apologise.

“No sweetheart, you did nothing wrong, he was the one in the wrong. I'm sorry that he has deceived both of us. And thank you for reaching out, truly it means more than you could know,” she apologises again saying she's done with him and how much of a fool she feels.

“Oh trust me, I feel even more a fool, he proposed to me last week, and I said yes even though I had a feeling he was stepping out,” you sigh, you really were a fool.

You say your goodbyes to each other as you hear a key click into the lock and the door open. You take a deep breath and prepare to see your soon to be ex-fiancé walk down the narrow hall into the living room but instead you hear the call of your best friend.

“Darling? Are you home? You didn't answer my messages so I just came over,” he calls as he pads through the hall looking for you.

“Oh there you are love,” he heaves slightly with a bit of relief, as if your hour of not communicating led him to believe you were in peril.

Alex Turner, front man of the Arctic Monkeys, media proclaimed sex-god and unbelievably attractive man. To you it was all funny, you remember him as the cute boy in your maths class in university who was nervous to ask you to pass around the flyers to their next gig.

He made you feel welcome and comfortable in a new place, you'd foolishly decided you wanted to go to school in a new place— one far away from home and across the pond felt far enough to you. You were wholly unprepared to be in the world alone and in a foreign place but when that nervous boy in your freshman maths class walked up to you to give you a stack of flyers to his next show you felt welcome.

After he had introduced himself he warmed to you quickly and when he handed you a small stack of papers he'd told you to “Invite any of your other pretty American friends, we could really use more of those at our shows.” You blushed at his comment and when you'd told him you were utterly alone in the world he told you “That’s alright, you're pretty enough alone, you'd more than make up for the lack of pretty faces in the crowd,” and before he turned a heel and left the room he also told you “oh, and you just made your first friend here, so you're not so totally alone anymore,” he then flashed a cheeky grin and disappeared out the door leaving you utterly charmed in a full body flush.

When you showed up at the pub they were playing it was the first time in a while you didn't feel alone. You felt like you belonged, a feeling you didn't even have back home. That night was the night you also met your fiancé.

You stop yourself, “Nope— ex-fiancé as of tonight.” you think.

But that was years ago, and now that little indie band you used to hand out flyers for on campus is now internationally known. The boys had just finished another tour and you felt like a proud mother. It made your heart swell to see them so happy doing what they love everyday but you were glad they were home. You'd missed them dearly, especially Alex.

You really wished that he’d come at a better time though, you had to plan what you were gonna do when your fiancé got home. How you were gonna break the news to him that you were now broken up. You wished you could confide in Alex what your fiancé had done but you feared what he’d say. Your mind raced with anxiety and anger.

It seems you'd zoned our because when you tuned back into it Alex was calling your name, “Are you alright love?” he asks you concern crossing his face, “you kinda spaced out there, is everything okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, everything is fine Alex,” you let out a bit more aggressively then you had wanted, “I just got a lot on my mind you try to soothe, Alex had quickly picked up on your tonal slip up and poor cover-up.

“Sure,” he says skeptically, elongating the “E.”

You roll your eyes at him and you move to go to the kitchen, “What do you want Alex? I'm kinda in the middle of something and I gotta get dinner ready before—”

“I can come back at a better time? I'm sorry I let myself in, you weren't answering my messages and I got a bit worried,” he gives you his puppy eyes, trying to apologise for his intrusion but you weren't mad at him you were mad at your fiancé, your cheating, lying fiancé who was gonna be home soon.

You sigh, “I'm sorry Alex, I'm going through something right now,” you rub your temple as a tension headache starts to form. All of this was too much.

Alex steps towards you and wraps you in his arms, “It's alright love, do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head “no” and bury your face in his neck. He smooths one hand down your back and the other in your hair instantly relaxing you, “Well when you’re ready I’m here you know. I’ll always be here for you.”

Goodness did he know you. The hug, asking if you wanna talk, everything about him puts you at ease. He was perfect, and his perfection only made the fact that your fiancé was cheating on you sting even more. You deserved better than a person who cheats and lies.

You nod affirmingly and reluctantly pull away, “Thanks love, but I really should get started with dinner, I’d ask you to stay but you know…” you trail off.

“Ironic” you think, that your fiancé was worried about Alex when he was the one stepping out on you. Projection much?

Alex’s shoulders dip, “Yeah, I know love,” he sighs, he looks troubled.

Your brow furrows in question and concern, “Alex?” you ask.

“Yeah love?” he asks right back.

“Are you okay?” you question him, just as he knew you, you knew him.

To any other person they may not have picked up on his mannerisms. The way his eyebrows have been furrowed the entire time he’s been here, a small crease forming between them. Or how he keeps fiddling with the pull on the zip of his leather jacket. Or how his dishevelled hair is even messier than usual. Or even the quiet storm that rages behind his eyes. You know he’s troubled with something but it was up to him to share that. You weren’t going to force him just as he didn’t force you.

It was nice to be understood like that, on a deep level that not a word needed to be exchanged to know the other. In a way that’s why you and Alex were best friends and why you were closer to him than any of the other boys. And if you let yourself think about it even closer than you and the person you had agreed to marry…

He clears his throat, “Yeah, yeah I’m alright love, no need to worry about me, yep, I’m alright,” he clears his throat again and runs his hands through his hair, “anyway I’m going to get going, see ya later darling.”

He was out the door before you could even blink.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

🎼 I take the slick steps down to the street and get in the car waiting for me. I don’t even bother to try and avoid the pelting rain. It felt kinda nice letting the heavy rain sting my skin as I dip into the car, shutting the door.

“So, did you tell them?”

“Couldn’t,” I shrug.

“Really? After everything you did just to get here? The PI, the pining, the waiting, the songs, the—”

“I get it Matt,” I grit out, “they’re more to me than someone to hang off my arm and you know that. It was just the wrong time. I couldn’t do it.”

“I do mate, but you gotta act, how’re they gonna know if you don’t tell them anything?”

“Too little too late, I told you that last week.”

“You think they’re gonna stay with him after all he’s done? I doubt it. Y/N would be very stupid to say no to you, so it’s a good thing they are smart. They know their worth.”

“Just take me home,” I was done trying to argue, I’d lost them years ago, far before they got engaged.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

🎼 It was even later than you expected for your fiance to get home. So late in fact that most of your stuff was already packed away in your car. You didn’t know what you were going to do or where you were going. All you did know was that you were going to confront the cheating bastard and leave him behind.

You sat on the loveseat in your cramped living room waiting for your fiance to walk in. You had heard the door open and close along with shuffling. You just sat and waited patiently for him to walk into the room wasting no more effort on him.

“Babe? Where are you? I totally got swamped at work, I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, even before you knew about his infidelity you hardly believed his stories about being swamped at work. You just assumed he wanted to hang out with his friends, and of course when you were most insecure, you thought he might be cheating yet each time you asked and he reassured you, you believed him. At your sound your fiance finally walks into the living room.

“There you are, did you make dinner? I’m sorry I’m late.” He leans down to where you are on the loveseat to kiss you but you swerve him, his lips landing on your cheek instead, “Huh? Is something wrong babe?”

You scoff again and get to your feet, “Is there something wrong?” you mock, childish you know but surely you deserve to be a bit childish after everything you’ve been submitted to.

His face screws up in confusion and he steps back from you, “Seriously? What’s your problem? Are you on your period or something?”

His words make your stomach turn, “Seriously? You can’t even have an original retort? And for your information, you are my problem,” you spit back, and cross the room toward the hall and front entrance.

“W-what?” he sputters, “I don’t understand, how am I your problem?”

You throw the envelope to him and it lands at his feet, “That is why you are my problem,” he moves to pick up the envelope as you put on your coat and pick up your keys at the front door.

Somehow his face gets even more screwed up, “Huh? Wh–? It’s not what it looks like! Where did you get these? Baby I can expl—” you stop him with a hand, making him pause.

“I don’t care to hear what you have to say, and whoever sent them did me a favour. Goodbye and fuck you.”

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

🎼 You pulled into the drive not knowing how or when you decided to come here. Something in you just said it was right and as you turned off the engine to your car you looked up at the windows of the modest but beautiful home of Alex.

You sighed and willed yourself out of your car. You weren't scared if Alex would let you in or anything but you were nervous about everything that came after getting inside. What would Alex say to you about devoting so much of your life to a scumbag? To you it was probably one of the only things you couldn't predict about your best friend. You knew Alex didn’t care for your ex-fiance and you never really knew why but for the sake of yourself you typically just tried to avoid the topic of relationships when you were together. It made you wonder about Alex’s relationships now, I mean since you never really spoke of yours he never spoke of his. What you knew of his partners came from the media and what he told you in passing. Your thinking also made you wonder what Alex was like in a relationship.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts as the rain picked up again. You quickly moved up the drive to the stairs as the rain soaked you to the bone. You climbed the few steps and gave a firm but not aggressive knock to the door. When there was no answer you knocked again a bit firmer. When still no answer you sighed and used your key. You knew he was home by the lights on inside but you didn’t like using your key unless need be.

You let yourself in, stripping off your soaked coat at the door along with your shoes. You’re grateful for the warmth inside the house contrasting your shivering frame. SIghing you grab the throw blanket from the back of the couch in the living room and wander to go find Alex. You assume he’s in his home studio. It’s sound proof in there so the chances he heard you are slim. You make your way there and as you do you hear Alex and what sounds like his drunken ramblings through the studio door left slightly ajar.

It’s not the first time you’ve heard said drunken ramblings and you roll your eyes at his ridiculousness. As you move closer to the door you can just make out a few words or what you assume are words as most of it is a slurred jumbled mess of sounds that vaguely resemble words. You’re just at the door when you hear Alex sigh and say your name. You freeze— had he seen you? Surely not, he hadn’t answered the door and you hadn’t made much fuss at the door. And as you listen further you’re sure he hadn’t heard you.

“They’re just so pretty, it’s like they’re made of sunshine and starlight,” he drunkenly slurs. You’re wide-eyed at that accusation, surely he wasn’t speaking about you— right?

“But I’m just a fool, a spineless fool to fall for me best friend and one engaged at that! Oh, Alexander, truly what a fool you are! To pine for a person taken before you could get the courage to ask them out and to spend years trying to recreate what you have with anyone else is embarrassing. All the times you tried to tell them such and floundered miserably; just like today. Oh, the time you’ve wasted on a person you can even have! And doesn’t it hurt to know that the bastard has been cheating on that beautiful soul and you’re to do nothing more. Ugh!” you hear a crash on the other side of the door, possibly a glass thrown but you were more preoccupied by the confession. The words bounced around in your head as you tried to make sense of them. You were so preoccupied in fact you hadn’t noticed the heavy foot fall heading right toward you.

“Oi and you’ve made a right mess of yourself haven’t ya? You certainly aren’t fit for a person worthy of more than the world or universe could ever conjure. A person wh—” he pauses as he flings the door open and collides with you in the dark hall.

You’re knocked back a bit but quickly steadied by Alex’s hands on your shoulders. His touch grounding yet electrifying and you jump back to reality. Both wide-eyed and painfully aware you stare at each other in the darkened hall, the only source of light the ambered glow of the lamp in the studio behind Alex.

“D–darling?” he stutters out nervously, “when did you get here? Are ya alright, you’re soaked! You’re gonna get a cold like that, here let me get you something dry to wear,” he tries to manoeuvre you out of the way but you stand firm.

“Alex?” you query and he tries to move you once again but you stand solid.

You shrug his hands away, “Alex? Is— is what you just said true? I mean— how— how did you know about the cheating? Do you really like me? When? How? What? I—” now that your head is catching up to everything you just heard a million questions flicker through your mind for Alex and even more for yourself.

“Do I like him? And if I did what would I do? Oh god am I blushing? I feel like I’m on fire! Did he say he wanted to tell me? TODAY? Is that why he got all squirrely this afternoon? Did he send the photos? How did he find out? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”

Alex steps back and pulls at his hair seemingly having just as many conflicting emotions run across his mind, “Oh god darling, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I— I— oh god,” he collapses on the couch in his studio, head falling into his hands as he mutters on about how he just ruined everything.

You cross the room to sit in the matching armchair across from where he’s sitting, avoiding bits of glass that seem to have been the cup he threw at the wall by the door earlier.

You look at him and ask again, “Alex,” you plead, “do you like me?” You’re not certain what you want his answer to be but you’re desperate to know.

He goes silent for a moment and lets out a sigh. He runs his hands through his hair, his dishevelled look becoming even messier, “Would you hate me if I said yes?” he asked right back, sounding so insecure. It was like you were back in that class and he was that nervous boy trying to introduce himself.

And you could help but love that boy.

“I wouldn’t,” you smiled, “in fact,” you implored further, “I think I might say I like him too.”

Your words make his eyes snap to yours, “Really?” he asks, looking at you bewildered and unbelieving.

You nod and bite back an idiodic smile, “I think so… I mean if I think about it, who wouldn't love a man like you?”

“But, you’re engaged and—”

“Not anymore and that doesn’t matter anymore,” you interject, “I think we both have a lot of things to catch up on and lots to discuss,” you stand and put out your hand for Alex, “come on, it’s gonna be a long night.”

He smiles and takes your hand.

Maybe it wasn’t too late after all.

A/N (pt two): This ended up way longer than I expected (I am very long winded in real life as well 😅) I also wrote much of this while watching Tangled on repeat (Eugene is so baby) ANYWAY I hope you at least mildly enjoyed this I feel like it’s too cringe but I am done trying to edit this 😭 Feel free to interact as you please I am going to disappear into the void now

-🌈 Rainbow❤️‍🩹

[foxes-that-run]

OH. MY. GOD.

I was watching fortnight mv and noticed something😭

In the typewriter scene posty is wearing a ring in his ring finger. Then the next scene the style silhouette scene posty without tattoo is not wearing any ring. Then the next scene where they are torturing her/trying to fix her, posty is wearing a ring in the same finger Harry wears the haylor ring. But no ring in ring finger. Then in the telephone scene he's again wearing a ring in his ring finger and Taylor is wearing the haylor ring.

I shared my theory about this song and mv with you before and this new clue makes me believe in it more. The wife she talks about is Olivia. The ring in the beginning indicates Harry being with Olivia (not literally engaged but engaged as in together). They were talking when he was still with Olivia and she was surviving with Joe. The tattooless posty is Joe I believe, this scene I thought was her dreaming of a life with harry but this may also be her revisiting the life she had with Joe and talking about it with harry. Like how they were happy and then they wer not, how they had a happy-in-love expression on their face then it turned into sad expressions, how she reached her hand out but it cut to the next scene before he could take it. This is perfect summary of her relationship with Joe but the style silhouette tells me that harry was always in the back of her mind OR it might be in the beginning of Toe when Harry's memory was still fresh in her mind.

So they were both typing meaning they were either talking about eachother or writing songs about, i think it's both. Because they talked and then they wrote songs about what they talked about. Harry has plenty songs about her being lonely in HH. Makes sense that the pink and blue colours led them to those tattooless posty scene meaning revision of Toe relationship.

Next the torture scene where posty wears a haylor ring maybe? This scene to me was Harry dragging her out of the mess in May, he wasn't seeing anyone at that time. So there's no ring in ring finger. So the ring he wears in his index finger might be seen as a haylor ring.

The next scene where she's wearing that black victorian type dress throwing papers and all, to me it's after he left her again in (after saving her from torture, reference to down bad). Then when he calls he again has a ring in ring finger, he's involved with someone else again. So it could mean it's after TR came into the picture. Taylor is wearing the haylor ring so I'd assume it was when she still was looking forward to him returning.

There's so many things. I'm gonna have to watch it again n again

Wow thanks for this ask anon, I spent a bit of time gathering shots of the rings then looking at Harry's. And yes there are three combinations of Post:

Tattoos with rings on his wedding and right index fingers, in the typewriter and phone booth, also where Taylor has Haylor ring

No tattoos or rings in the road scenes

Tattoo scientist has a ring on their right index,you don't see his wedding ring and he has glasses.

This aligns with the prologue having three muses also.

Post has two rings in the typewriter scene, his right ring (wedding finger) and left index. Also a ring on his right ring in the phonebooth where Taylor wears the Haylor Ring.

Right index for the scientist - but the wedding finger is hidden

No rings in the Style head and tattoo less scenes

So 3 or 4 muses:

No tattoos, turtleneck, no rings on road

Tattoos, Fancy black suit, 2 rings with typewriters

Tattoos, glasses, one ring, scientist coat

And the final, tattoos and 2 rings, has a necklace when he steps out of the phone booth post could be #2 or a 4th post.

Harry wore the Haylor Ring on either index finger intermittently 2014-2019. The last time we saw it was 2019 Gucci Campaign where it was on his right index finger. (this ran the week before Ed's wedding)

It's not the only ring that may be about Taylor though. He wore the Peace Ring on his left middle finger from (when he and Taylor had a break in LA coincidentally on April 21 - 24) 2013 - 2020. It was on the left middle finger for 6 years, but it switched to the right middle finger in 2020 and only appears occasionally since, but that included his MSG residency when he and Taylor were both in NY and at TIFF.

I re-read my post on it Peace Ring and noticed the dates Harry wore it again after he stopped includes the anniversary of Ed's wedding. (yesterday's ask about it) At the time I thought maybe it was something earlier... but that's when he was 25.. so hmm I might do a post on that ring's reappearance.

[ryndicate]

How bad do you want it? ⨳ Ichida Ryuken

"Then you know what to do."

notes: for @semisgroupie 's what's done in the dark collab! I've finally written something for bleach and I couldn't be happier to be writing about daddy Ishida >:3

warnings: uneven power dynamic, abuse of position, reader is given multiple outs aka consent, unprotected sex, public/risky sex

By expanding you are agreeing to viewing adult content and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Rules & Main Links

Whispers have been echoing around you since you arrived at work this morning, early but not so bright at a severe three in the morning. 

"Have you seen next week's schedule?"

"I haven't had a day off in three weeks."

"At least you don't have four back to back doubles. I've done nothing but work and sleep for god knows how—"

"Ma'am!" The youngest nurse in the lineup, Sachi you think, pops up from her seat after catching sight of you frowning at your boards. You turn to see her pacing towards you and grimace. 

You had seen the schedules too and were feeling the drain the same as everyone else. A few staff members from your department had been transferred last month with no replacements in sight.

"Can you please talk to Dr. Ishida," she all but begs you, her voice carrying enough to draw some of the other nurses towards you, their expressions taking on a hopeful outlook. "If anyone can convince him to hire more nurses it would be you."

Too late to escape, you try to ready a smile as the other nurses chorus at you, anxiety climbing.

"He always listens to you! It's probably because you're so good at your job."

"Yeah, I couldn't even get him to order new pens."

"He's so curt with everyone else."

"It wouldn't hurt to try, right?" Sachi throws on her best puppy eyes for good measure and you feel your willpower splinter. "Worst he could say is no?"

"Fine," you sigh, the pulsing of a new headache sounding like the last nails in your coffin. "I'll ask him after my shift today; he's got surgeries for most of the afternoon and a consultation in the evening."

Everyone relaxes measurably, breaking off one by one to get back to their duties and thanking you in hushed tones as the man in question appears around the corner.

Dr. Ishida Ryuuken barely gives you a cursory glance before breezing right past and you stiffen, making a show of studying the papers in your hand until he's gone. 

It's right to feel intimidated; tall and fit with vibrant snowy hair and a sharp jawline, he's incredibly handsome, barely looking a day over thirty despite having a teenage son. Quiet and icily strict, he’s a talented and sought after doctor despite losing his wife all those years ago. You could hardly imagine a man as cutting as him to even have had a wife, but you've never married so you guess you don't understand what it's like to lose a partner.

"Wouldn't hurt him to be nicer though." You rub your eyes, mumbling the words under your breath before glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one heard you. 

It’s a long day, like always. The work is hard, but in the end it’s good work. Infected stitches, bed sores, endless looping conversations with worried patients… someone has to do it, right?

You’re standing in the nurses bathroom exhausted, starving, and making a small attempt to wash some of the day’s grime away while you work up the nerve to go back upstairs to your department head’s office. This is honestly the last thing you wanted to do today, but you’ve been here longer than the rookies who swarmed you this morning, and honestly? They’re right. If they tried to talk to Dr. Ishida, he would have sent them running with their tails between their legs. You, on the other hand, have a little more backbone than that.

Feet still sore from the day you take the elevator up, thankful to find it empty and silent, and make your way down the familiar path to his office. You pause outside the door at the sound of muffled voices coming through the door. You check your watch. It’s nearly eight; you thought he’d be done with his consultation by now. There’s no way it would have run this long. Listening intently you try to make out the words.

“Sir, it’s the board of directors again. They’re trying to schedule—”

“Tell them I’m not here.”

“They’re not going to believe that.”

There’s a beat of silence and you can almost feel the undoubtedly stormy glare roiling behind his glasses.

“Then tell them to contact me during my operating hours. I’m off duty. They can leave a message like everyone else.”

“Sir, it’s the board.”

There’s more silence, and you step back from the door quickly when you realize their conversation is over, trying to appear unassuming. 

Ishida’s haggard looking aid doesn’t spare you a glance as they leave, and suddenly you feel less pessimistic about your own job.

The door is ajar so you tap your knuckles on the door, peeking in.

Dr. Ishida looks up from his desk, eyes still sharp, but some of the severity dissipates as he realizes it’s you.

“What is it this time?” He goes back to the papers on his desk. He’s aloof, bored, but with no direct dismissal you gather your nerves to do what you came for. You leave the door open to make the point that this won't take long.

“The nurses are still having a hard time since the transfers finalized,” you start, haltingly.

There’s several long moments of silence and for a moment you think he’s going to ignore you indefinitely before he looks up, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And?” 

The dry expectancy of his tone has heat rising beneath your collar, but you grit your teeth and work up your customer service smile from the days you worked retail to put yourself through nursing school. You never thought that experience would actually be useful, but here you are.

“Well, I understand how important your time is, sir, but we were hoping you might take some time out of your busy schedule to hire some additional staff to help balance the workload.”

As much as you try, there’s no curbing the biting undercurrent to your words. You’ve been in this position too many times to not be tired of it, and today you really just want to go home.

The good doctor turns his chair to face you, and his now piercing stare is enough to whittle away at your faltering confidence shakily propped up by indignance. You find your feet shifting as you try to ease your discomfort as he looks you over.

When he doesn’t say anything you’re getting ready to turn and stalk out of his office, but he finally speaks.

His voice is smooth now, nonchalant. “How important is this?”

“It would really help, sir,” you sigh, meek and defeated as he moves his chair a few feet back from his desk, the wheels giving a light squeak as they catch on the carpet. He leans back in it, crossing his arms. There’s an intensity in his eyes now that's different, an unspoken dare.

“Then you know what to do.”

There's that moment of resistance, there always is, where you simply maintain his stare with the blankest expression you can manage. But you inevitably crumble.

With a silent sigh, you reach for the hem of your scrubs and pull the colored pattern over your head. You're reaching for your bra when you pause, remembering the door is still open. 

Your hands drop and you're turning when Dr. Ishida's voice quietly rumbles across the room.

"Leave it." You glare at him and he stares back, immovable. "Unless you're done here?"

There it is, your best chance at walking out. Ignoring his bait you swallow your biting retort and unhook your bra, heat rising beneath your skin as he eyes your exposed tits, already hard from the scrutiny. You don't give him much more time than that, kicking out of your shoes and shoving your scrub bottoms off before coming around the edge of his desk.

You're left in nothing but a simple pair of gray cotton panties. Trying to hide your nerves, you lay yourself over his desk, nipples tightening painfully against the cold wood, hips raised and jutted out, displaying your ass for him.

You inhale slowly as he trails his hand up your outer thigh, skimming over the curve of your ass with such a gentle touch that it’s almost too sensitive. It makes you want to shy away, but you know that would only displease him, so you bite your inner cheek and steel yourself.

“Laundry day?” Ryuuken hums idly, sliding a finger in the band curving your left cheek and letting it go with a soft snap.

“With respect, fuck you, sir,” you sigh wearily, not in the mood for his brand of teasing today.

There’s a single note chuckle behind you, and you hate the way it sears against your skin like a brand, goosebumps rising down your spine in anticipation as you feel him move closer behind you. Instinctively you raise yourself to the balls of your feet as you feel his erection against your ass.

“Good girl.”

He’s amused now and you want nothing more than to hiss at him like a disgruntled cat, but your anxious eyes keep flickering to the open door, the risk of someone walking past keeping you silent.

Ryuuken rolls his hips into your ass a few times and smoothes a palm up your back, apparently content with taking his time.

“Will you hurry up?” you finally hiss, shuddering as his fingers make a third pass up and down your spine. You can feel the uncomfortable wetness growing between your thighs, the damp patch against your entrance sticking to your pussy. 

His hand immediately wraps around the back of your neck, effectively scruffing you, and you can’t help but let out a little squeak of surprise. He presses more tightly against you, leaning down to put his lips by your ear.

“Be quiet or get out,” Ryuuken murmurs, soft and dangerous, but the apparent lust roughening his tone is like little sparks bursting in your gut. You go limp, resigning yourself to his petting, arousal building like bubbling pressure in a coffee machine. 

You’re a hot flustered mess by the time you hear the clink of his belt, and you can’t help the tiny moan of approval as he finally tugs down your panties. The ache between your thighs has you biting every ounce of self restraint to keep your hips from arching towards him, letting him press on the small of your back and bump your feet into his preferred position like you wouldn’t have done it yourself given the chance.

A mewl is on the tip of your tongue, half choked as you chew your lower lip, at the feel of his fingers swiping through the slick you’ve accumulated. It receives a low hum of approval before his fingers are replaced with the blunt tip of his cock.

There’s a fog swirling over your mind. You can’t remember hearing the sound of a condom, but the heat and warmth of him slowly sinking into you is enough to send any worries of that flying from your mind. Your knuckles are white on the edge of the desk as you chew on a whine; his girth is something you’ve always reluctantly referred to as perfect, just enough to leave you full without making you grit at any pain, but his length always has you holding your breath because it never seems to end. He gives a little sigh behind you that has your mind fill with fluff, crackles of electricity sparking like exposed wires through your nerves.

“Breathe,” Ryuuken instructs calmly, and you hiccup, drawing in air like you just remembered how. “Again.”

There’s tears threatening your lashline as he stills, and you want to growl and posture at this stupid, sexy, rude as hell doctor being kind enough to give you time to adjust, but the alternative isn’t worth it. Knowing him, he’d rub it rather smugly in your face just how much you’re dripping all over him. So you sniffle instead, and tip your hips up just a little more, moaning in your throat as it has him pressing tighter against the front wall of your pussy.

One of his hands is stroking over the fat of your ass almost absentmindedly, as your pussy ripples around him at random, finally growing impatient for more stimulation. As if sensing your frustration, his grip moves to your waist and you curl a forearm under your cheek, ready to muffle any sounds if you need to.

His thrusts are quick and dirty right from the start, and your teeth are making divots in your arm before you know it. You get the sense that you’re not the only one stressed from today’s workload; it’s as if he’s trying to slam every ounce of pent up frustration out through your cunt. The unbreaking pace is mind-numbing and your eyes glaze over as he strikes deep in your core. 

Ryuuken’s grunts are quiet but they bathe over your ears, causing your pussy to squeeze down on him, and the hand supporting the brunt of his force flashes back to grab his wrist as you feel pleasure curl so close to the surface that you’re sure you’d crumble if it didn’t peak. He shakes his hand out of your grip and you almost sob, but he’s tugging your hips back further off the desk and reaching under you, the tips of his fingers brushing over your clit and your whole body locks up as your orgasm rips through you. 

His breathed curse falls on deaf ears as you ride out the blissful storm, extended by the way he savagely pulls you back on his cock, jerking into you unevenly, frantically, and you taste iron and salt as he sinks deep and grinds.

He’s still for a moment, breathing hard before his cock slips out of your cunt, and you feel warmth spilling down your thighs. One of these days you’ll have half a mind left to pay attention when Dr. Ishida Ryuuken loses his composure, but you’re too preoccupied with riding out the final aftershocks as he straightens his clothes behind you and smoothes his hair down.

Only then does he slide your panties back up your legs, making sure they’re firmly in place. There’s the soft sound of rustling fabric and finally your awareness rouses. You raise your head to see the office door closed, and your discarded scrubs sitting on the corner of his desk. 

Ryuuken watches you silently as you redress, offering no words, and you don't need them. You've been here before; you did what you came for, and he got what he wanted. Words weren’t necessary. Words complicate things.

He opens the door for you as you slip on your shoes. “Until next time.”

Something indescribable brightens inside you at Ryuuken’s words, and you give him a searing glare. In return you receive a small smirk, and he closes the door behind you with a light click.

As you walk down the hall, you tell yourself it’s only to gain favor with your employees, to help everyone out. That it’s altruism in its finest for you to pimp yourself out to the head of the department. That it has absolutely nothing to do with how well he fucks you and sends you on your way with shaking legs and a dripping cunt. Absolutely nothing at all.

Sachi is sitting at the nurse's station when you get down there, and you belatedly realize she was one of the nurses working double today.

“Oh, your arm!” She gasps, peeling out of her seat and dashing for the first aid cart. “I hate it when patients bite.”

You look down to see the mark on your arm; it’s bleeding, barely, but the crescent shape is like a ghostly reminder of his smile right before he closed the door in your face, and your heart jumps against your wishes.

Your glare returns in earnest.

Damn him.

© All rights reserved to @ryndicate. Do not modify, translate, or repost.

[kaiwewi]

Sharing is Caring #2

[Masterlist: Sharing is Caring] [Part 1]

Synopsis: a few days after the last incident, Hero is missing time again. And someone has left them a message.

Hero was ripped from their slumber by the obnoxious beeping of their smartphone’s alarm clock.

Disoriented, they snatched the phone from the bedside table and fumbled for the mute button.

Why the hell was the alarm going off in the first place? They didn’t have any lectures for another two weeks. No appointments. No reasons whatsoever to cut their resting time short. There was no way they’d set this alarm. The damn thing had to be broken.

A terrible sense of déjà vu settled like something heavy on their chest.

No. No, no, no. Please, not again.

They squinted at the screen: 8 am. Tuesday, January 17th.

Fuck.

Another three days lost. An entire weekend plus Monday, gone.

They couldn’t breathe. They scrambled out of bed, started pacing, wrenched open the window. It didn’t help. Nothing would help. The world was spinning, blurring. Faster. Nauseating.

Oh god. What was going on? What was happening to them?

They really had to call someone. They had to make sure—

A soft breeze blew in through the open window and stirred a few stray sheets of paper sitting in the middle of their desk. Hero just so managed to slam their hand down on top of them before the wind could fully lift the sheets off the wooden surface.

The looked down to inspect the writing on the uppermost paper. The words peeking out from between their fingers were written in an elegant yet unfamiliar hand.

It appeared to be a letter. A letter addressed to them.

~~~

Saturday, January 14th

Dear Hero

How very astute of you to finally notice you’re missing time. And it took you only five skipped days to figure it out; I am truly impressed. (Yes, that is sarcasm, in case you cannot tell. Imagine me rolling my eyes. Well, our eyes.)

Said missing time? – Do not fret: I spent it for us. Productively, I might add.

The first time I took possession of this body, I got to spent two quiet days familiarising myself with our physical condition and our immediate environment. (I strongly suggest a change in diet. I suspect we might be lactose-intolerant.)

The second time my consciousness surfaced, I had another three days that I invested primarily into studying you and your life.

In other words: I read your diary. I’m sure you’ll recognise the necessity of such a transgression, given our current circumstances. (Though, I do confess to a certain delight in skimming through the journal, reading about your insignificant worries and secrets. Quite delightful, the idea that the great hero at the core is no higher or lesser a person than the next university student…)

As for your most recent entries… although it might have brought me great satisfaction to further observe your bewilderment over those ‘blackouts’ and ‘memory gaps’, I think it prudent to introduce myself before you ‘freak out’ and get the two of us locked up in a mental institution. (I’d rather we wouldn’t be put into a straitjacket, thank you very much!)

Don’t worry, you are not ‘bonkers’ or ‘totally going nuts’.

I can assure you: I am quite real.

Best regards, Your Brain-Cell-Mate <3

PS: Your penmanship leaves room for improvement.

PPS: I threw out your fast food and went grocery shopping. Once you take over our body again, please do make use of the healthier alternatives I’ve stocked up on.

~~~

Hero read the letter four times in total silence.

Then they went into the kitchen and opened the fridge to assess the damage. – The rest of last week's cake was gone. So were the leftover pizza and the convenience store lasagna. In their place, Hero found a bowl of potato salad, a bunch of carrots, smoked salmon, a glass of pickles, a few smoothies, whole-grain bread, and two packs of feta cheese. Even their favourite yogurt had been replaced with quark.

Well, screw therapists; they should call an exorcist.

They were possessed. By a pretentious health-freak demon.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up in their throat.

This was the worst moment ever to not have chocolate around.

[Part 3]

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