#has he ever said something that wasn’t a lie in his entire life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ash5monster01 · 10 months

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Learning to Love

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

→ Part 1

Masterlist

You're used to crude comments, truly. Living in the Outer Banks has proven nothing other than the fact that kooks will always be cruel, even if it's towards other kooks. As long as you're in a bathing suit, something is going to be said. Which is proven true as you lie on the beach, book in hand, and sunglasses hung low on your nose. It's your only day off and you were going to enjoy it. Soak up the sun as much as you can because summer would fade away before you knew it. You had only chosen the two piece bathing suit to get more of a tan, maybe a little extra sun. It's only twenty pages into your book you hear two boys snickering not far from your own set up.

"Look a beached whale, should we call the authorities?" your ears burn red only slightly, after all you were used to it. Honestly you could care less anymore.

"God, she has to know that's gross" the other responds after his bellowing laughs have calmed down. They truly can't be that stupid they don't realize how loud they're talking right?

"No decent looking, hell self respecting man would ever date a girl like that" this punches the air out of your lungs. You knew your body type wasn’t considered attractive. This was common knowledge, but to hear someone say you couldn’t possibly ever date an attractive man is something else entirely.

“I know I wouldn’t” the boys laugh again, hands clapping together as they stare you down like you were the most disgusting thing on this beach.

You’re not upset about what they were saying. You survived highschool after all. Your school had already been divided by kooks and pogues, add in the big girl and that’s a recipe for disaster. You’ve heard the most vile and mean things a person could say. Somehow you came out of it with still a little self respect, hell even some confidence, because if you were anything at all it was strong. You had dated here and there, never had anything stick though. Maybe that’s why this comment resonated so hard with you. No matter how decent a person you meet maybe you’re bound to end up ugly and alone because an attractive man belongs with an attractive girl.

Rafe has had to attend hundreds of useless business meetings since his Dad died. He had wanted this. When he was nineteen and trying to prove to his Dad that he was worth it, but now he was gone. He had no one to impress anymore and at twenty three he carried the burden of being the CEO of an entire company with his last name on it. So that’s how he finds himself inside of dark clubs at noon, sharing a scotch with guys willing to play dirty to get what they want. He often wonders why he had wanted this life so badly. Everything he had believed in for so long was now gone. His Dad, the treasure, and now even kooks and pogues. Ever since his sister had found that treasue social classes had been practically eliminated or at least weren't acknowledged like they were before. All of this had now left Rafe without a sense of self and he desperatley needed something to change.

"Man, why can't they hire pretty waitresses to look at anymore?" Levi, a coworker slurred as he watched their waitress walk away. Rafe noticed her shoulders stiffen because she had heard what he had said. He hated he felt guilty over it.

"It's a bar, not a strip club" Matt, another coworker teased and Rafe rolled his eyes. Four years ago these guys could've been his best friends, and he would've teased the waitress right along with them. Now things were different, he was different.

"I happen to think she's cute" Rafe told them before finishing the last sip of his scotch. He knew when he got back to the office people would give disapproving looks but he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. It was like he was just floating and letting the tide drag him along wherever it wanted to.

"Yeah right" Matt snorted out a laugh and Rafe gave him a confused look as Levi started to laugh along with him.

"Seriously Rafe, you’re way out of her league" Levi told him, his shoulder bumping with his own.

"No I'm not and there is no such thing as leagues" Rafe told them with a pointed look but the boys just continued to laugh anyway.

"Yes there is and the only one's in Rafe Cameron's league are tall hot blondes with legs for miles and tan skin smooth enough slide on" Matt said and Rafe felt his stomach clench as they spoke. Had he unintentionaly maintained a type, only taken someone for their looks? Flashes of ex girlfriends went through his mind and he had realized after all this time he had only taken women for surface things.

“That can’t be true” Rafe shook his head and the boys just chuckled.

“Admit dude, you’re an asshole and you like pretty little things. Nothing wrong with that” Levi said as he slapped his back, taking another sip of his own scotch. Rafe however realized there was everything wrong with that. Yeah he’s been a jerk his whole life but had he ever actually dated a girl he liked? Someone with substance?

“Hell would freeze over the day Rafe Cameron dated someone other than a supermodel” Matt pointed with the scotch in his hand and Rafe just shook his head, eyes scanning over the small crowd that littered the bar. For the first time he was seeing people he never would’ve noticed before.

He wondered if this was a side effect of his life before. Privileged kook, popularity, a need to impress everyone around him. Had women become a part of all of that too? A side effect of a need to please, to be the best. Had he been wasting years of actually meeting someone with a personality due to his natural self destructive ways? God he hoped not. Then again he couldn’t recall ever really liking the girls he dated, he usually just tuned them out and used them when he needed to make an appearance with a date. He had never actually dated someone for fun. Worst of all he hated that everyone knew this of him. That he dated for appearance instead of happiness. He wanted to change that.

You could only take so much of the harassment coming from the two boys on the beach, so after three hours you declared you’d had enough sun and started to pack your things. When the cover up slipped over your head you didn’t miss the applause coming from them. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started the hike up the beach. You needed a drink.

Rafe hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts over the girls he dated. After a very long recollection of every girl he had ever brought around he couldn’t think of one he actually enjoyed spending time with. With this in mind he dismissed Matt and Levi back to the office, claiming he’d find a way back on his own. He needed more time to think about this, and a stiff drink to go along with it. So that’s how he found himself now sitting directly at the bar and not inside the dark booth. The whiskey in his hand suggested he wasn’t making it back to the office anytime soon.

Normally he wouldn’t remove his focus from the drink in his hands but when a bag is slapped on the counter top beside him he finds himself lifting his head. The girl claiming the seat beside him is dressed in stark contrast to his own attire. He’s still in his work suit, tie loosened around his neck, but the girl beside him has clearly just come from the beach. Her hair is wild and wrapped in a bun a top her head. A red bikini strap peaks out the collar of the white coverup. Her breasts had left wet spots slightly see through to the red fabric of her top, like she had left the beach in a rush.

“Hit me with the usual Randy” she calls to the bar keep and Rafe can’t tear his eyes away from her. She’s bigger, sure, but the dip of her hips and small pouted lips have Rafe every bit of intrigued. He can’t help the thought of her being a girl he might’ve never noticed before escape him. He wanted to notice her now.

“Rough day?” Randy smirks at her when he’s back, a tall glass with a dark liquid set in front of her. She takes a sip before responding.

“Every day is a rough day” she mutters and Randy just chuckles before walking off to serve other customers. It’s only when your eyes lock with his own Rafe realizes he has been staring this entire time. “Let me guess, you got something to say just like everyone else today”

“I, what?” Rafe doesn’t expect the coldness from you and how strong willed you are with it too. You aren’t scared of him, he isn’t used to that.

“Listen I’ve had my fill of assholes today so if you don’t have anything nice to say, keep it to yourself” you told him before turning back forward and taking a large gulp from the drink in your hand.

“Got someone bothering you?” Rafe asked finding his cool. He finally got himself to tear his eyes away from you, eyes scanning over the liquor bottles behind the bar. You turn to look at him, eyes drawn together in confusion.

“Not one specific person, everyone for some reason thinks they have the right to comment on my appearance” your words get him to turn back at you. Normally men don’t make you nervous but when you watch him eye you up and down you can’t help the way your heart accelerates.

“I happen to think you look just fine” the scoff that falls from your lips shocks him.

“I’m not looking for your pity, I happened to over hear today that no decent self respecting man would date me so let’s not lie to each other” you tell him and Rafe now feels the air knocked from his lungs. He can’t believe anyone would say that to you. Let alone to your face.

“If it makes you feel better I was told today that I only date woman for surface things” now you were the one drawing your eyebrows together in confusion, looking to the mystery of a man beside you.

“Surface things?” you question the stranger and he chuckles, his rings clinking on his whiskey glass.

“Appearances, apparently I’ve never looked deeper” this has you chuckling right along with him, lifting your own drink to your lips.

“Look at us then, two sides of the same coin. Makes you wonder if there really is anyone out there actually happy with who they ended up with” you say mostly to yourself, knowing this perfect stranger on a normal day would never look your way but you also would never find yourself thinking you had a chance with him.

“I think there is, at least the people who weren’t chewed up and spit out by the world” the optimism is what shocks you the most when he speaks. A hope for something better down in there.

“I wish I was one of those people” you find yourself saying and the boy turns to look at you again, eyes scanning over each of your features.

“Maybe we should prove them wrong” now you’re laughing, looking bewildered towards the boy beside you.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you ask and he smirks, clearly having some sort of plan.

“We date. I prove to my coworkers that I date someone for more than just their looks and you prove to all those assholes that you can date a guy as good looking as me” he gestures to himself, as if his body is some of God’s best work. You scoff at his clear cheekiness but actually find yourself considering.

“I don’t even know your name” you laugh, trying to remind yourself that this ideal is completely absurd.

“Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you” his hand reaches across the bar, you take notice of how long his fingers are. With the shake of your head you find yourself putting your hand in his own.

“It’s not that simple” you tell him and he just smiles, dimples forming around his pressed together lips.

“Isn’t it though?” he says, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes and you sigh, finally removing your hand from his own.

“Date? As in fake date?” you ask and he nods, his head tipping to the side.

“Exactly, an agreement of sorts. We both benefit from each other, everything to gain and nothing to lose” he tells you like he’s already worked out every way this could end.

“We just met” you inform him and he shrugs, implying this wasn’t an issue.

“I’ve seen people date over less” he tells you and you sigh, holding your hand out to him. He looks are your empty palm confused and you quickly roll your eyes.

“You can’t take me out ion a date without my number dream boy” you tell him and he smirks while grabbing his phone out of his pocket and placing it in your hand. He watched as you meticulously open his contacts and punch in your number. You’ve named your contact ‘baby ❤️’ but he doesn’t get your real name until you type it into other names.

“Y/N? I like that” he smiles at you and you chuckle, clicking on the profile photo to take a selfie.

“We’re already off to a bad start if you want to stop liking people for just their surface things” he likes how quick witted you are and you don’t allow him a response as you lean into his personal space. “Can’t be a real girlfriend if I don’t have a profile picture in your phone”

You smile so easily and he instantly notices how beautiful it is. He’s not looking at the camera anymore but leaning in and taking in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with the sunscreen and salty skin. You were like a walking beach and he loved that more than anything. That is how he finds his lips pressing softly against your cheek as the camera shutter clicks on his phone. Your body has chills that you have to brush off quickly as you look at the entirely real looking photo on his screen.

“If I didn’t like what was on the surface you would never be my fake girlfriend” he finally says as he takes his phone back before you could text yourself his number.

“I don’t like how easy this is for you. Are you sure I’m your first fake girlfriend?” you ask and he laughs, eyes falling on your face again.

“The first and the only” and you decide that coming into an agreement like this with a stranger shouldn’t be this simple.

“Then we need to lay some ground rules” this has him raising his eyebrows as you grab a napkin from the bar. He watches as you leaned over, searching for a pen behind the bar. Unashamedly he took the opportunity to inspect your ass, admiring the curve and thanking the see through fabric for revealing the cheeky bikini bottoms that laid over your large curves. He had never openly allowed himself to be attracted to a bigger girl. but now he was briefly wondering what it would be like to be suffocated by one.

“So, what’s these rules?” he smirked at you once you were sat back upright in your seat. He watched as you popped the cap off the pen with your teeth and leaving it in your mouth.

“Don’t worry pretty boy, I’ll keep them simple” you tell him, dropping the cap from you lips into the bar. He felt himself flush slightly at the nickname, watching as your neat and loopy handwriting moved across the napkin.

1. Must actively text/call/interact for a week before first “official” date.

2. PDA must be limited

3. Don’t catch feelings, no matter what

4. Attend whatever event your fake significant other asks of you

5. Most of all, don’t tell anyone, ever, that this is fake

“PDA must be limited?” you roll your eyes at the fact this was the only rule he questioned but you sign at the bottom of the napkin anyway.

“I don’t want to waste all of romantic gestures on something that isn’t real” you explain to him and he nods, sliding the napkin in front of him.

“I have a lot of work dinners I would like you to attend” he says as he signs the napkin.

“I’ll try my best” you tell him and now he’s furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“It’s your rule” he points at the napkin, more confused with you than when you first walked in here. “What could you possibly be busy with?”

“Work” you tell him and he still looks confused which you find adorable. Now rule number three only applies to you.

“Every night?” he questions and you chuckle as you return the pen to the other side of the bar.

“Usually, comes with the territory” and you laugh as he continues to try and process what you’re saying.

“What territory?” he asks and you smile, finishing the drink in front of you.

“My bar” and you gesture to the building around you. Rafe suddenly realizes why you know the names of the workers and why they know your usual drink order.

“You own this place?” and you nod, sliding off your seat and grabbing your bag. You also grab the napkin, now signed by you both.

“Don’t forget rule number one handsome” you tell him before heading towards the exit, determined to have a good rest of your day off. Rafe can only watch as you walk away, baffled any of what just happened actually occurred.

“Randy, I’m gonna need a refill”

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macfrog · 1 year

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hits different cowboy like me chapter twelve

oh, my, love is a lie! are we all ready? do we have our coping strategies in place? have we prepared ourselves for impending doom? then gather round, my dear children, for i’ve a tale to tell. and it’s a SORE one

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: still reeling from your fight with joel, you seek out an effective way to deal with it: a night of sambuca shots and no second thoughts

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) alcohol + drug consumption (reader gets hammered), heartache, angst, unwanted touching, intended sexual assault, drink spiking, descriptions of blood and bruising, protective!joel gets into a quick barfight, more discussion of cheating(?), joel won't admit feelings, pain pain and more pain, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 10.9k

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Joel takes a beat to answer. Like he’s waiting for your voice to fill the space, the way it usually would. What’s up, old man? How hard is it to copy an address right? Lois not as good at typing as she is at sucking your – “You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.” The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

Of course he went to see Lois. He’s probably been seeing her for some time now. A nice lady, his own age, his line of work. You’re pretty sure she has a son, too. And your dad would love her, would love to think Joel was shacking up with some plant hire receptionist. She could turn your life around, son, he’d said. They fit together like a couple of jigsaw pieces. What the fuck would he have ever seen in you, past some young, tight thing for him to fuck? Just a placeholder. Just a time-waster.

A twenty-three-year-old; enough energy to keep him on his toes, cure his boredom. Fill his summer with something to do. And close enough to him, too, that he reeled you in with minimum effort. One stupid look at you – one stupid, stupid glance and you were hooked. High as a kite on him. All the touching, all the whispering. That fucking – the fucking bottle. The video. All of it, every second he ever spent near you – it all makes you cringe now.

And then, once the embarrassment of being played by your dad’s best friend passes, there’s the hurt. The aching. Fuck, the aching. The way your chest swells, feels like it might rip at the seams and burst open. The sting behind your eyes anytime you picture his smile, the way he’d look at you. The feeling of your throat closing up whenever you go to speak, windpipe constricting around any words that aren’t his name, and using them to choke you.

And it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it. Can’t have a heart-to-heart with your dad, have him make you a tea and sit him down by your window, ask for advice on heartbreak and getting over his best friend. You’ve been excusing your reclusiveness by telling him you’re on your period. That’s why you haven’t left your bed in four days.

It was just all so fucking believable, wasn’t it? So good, you thought you were dreaming the entire time.

And here he’d just proven you right. You dreamt it all up.

Has he fucked her yet? Lois. Is she one of the ten he told you about the other night? Has she touched him the way you have? Has he touched her, the way he did you?

Does she know how he sounds when he comes undone? How he looks? How he feels? Does she do it for him the way you do it? And what does he call her? Baby? Darlin’? Or something different entirely?

Now you’re wondering when he started seeing her, and then, if they have slept together, when the first time was. Whether or not you cross over with her. Maybe he went and fucked her after you argued. Let off some steam over at her place, while you sat in his house, smelling his shirts and reading his stupid fucking Alcatraz books. While you paced around, practicing the words you’d say to him when he came back.

All you wanted was for him to come back. You wanted him to come find you upstairs, take the book from your hands and lean his head down on your chest, mumble an apology into the material of your shirt and then kiss you, and kiss you again while he pulled the clothes from your body, and kiss you while you were naked underneath him, and kiss you while he rocked his hips into yours.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You think you hate her. You don’t even know her. Don’t know what she looks like, only heard her voice. She’s probably gorgeous. Probably a really sweet woman, helps out on the PTA, the type that stops to read missing dog posters so she can keep an eye out for them. Probably knows Joel well enough that she writes Sarah a birthday card every year. Just a real nice, Southern lady.

And you fucking hate her.

That’s not fair, though, and you know it. She didn’t do anything wrong. Joel’s the one who screwed you over – screwed you both over. Really, you and Lois are one and the same.

Except that she’s taken away the only thing to put a real smile on your face since you got home, and for that, you fucking hate her.

What had he said again? That night he drove you home from Sal’s, the night your dad asked him to stay for pizza. …said she’d like to go for a drink. I said maybe sometime. Maybe he’d organized that drink, in the midst of whatever you two had been doing. Thought nothing of it – you said it yourself: you were just messing around. Said it, like, three times to him. Good fucking job.

And that adds to the hurt. That neither of you seemed to care enough to call it anything more. Because now, sitting alone in your room, desperately checking your phone for a missed call or a text message from him, ears pricking at every sound your dad makes downstairs in case he’s answering a call from Joel or welcoming him in through the front door – you wish you had called it something.

Wish you had just fucking said it. Told him outright about the feelings you had. You were thinking about them enough – the thought circled your mind any time there was a moment’s silence between you.

Sometimes, the way he’d glance over to you, the way his hand would brush against yours, the way he’d say your name…he felt like…

Yours. He was yours. He was so fucking close to being yours.

You almost said it, once. Almost admitted it to him. Couple times you saw it flash behind his eyes, too. And it’s a damn good thing neither of you did say it, because it would’ve been a mistake. Would’ve been lies.

You don’t love him. You never did. You were in some fantasy, built by Joel. There ain’t no love between you. None from your side. And definitely none from him.

Definitely – none – from –

him.

----------

Anna’s been at you all week. She text you on Monday night, but you were about four layers of blanket deep in your bed, weeping into a box of dry cereal and listening to some sad girl playlist on repeat. You fished your cell out from under your mattress the next morning. Your dad had to call it to help you find it.

Anna: Frank’s again on Friday? Rodeo night round 2!!!

Tuesday, it was Please?? It was so fun on Sat. Cmon, Kara’s coming again. Sam’s working but that means free shots so.

On Wednesday, she tried a new approach. I’ll cover any shift you want.

Any two shifts……

Ok three????

Thursday, she started to get desperate. I’ll spill all your secrets to my dad if you don’t come. And you know he’ll tell them all to your dad lol

By Friday morning, though, she’d decided you had no say in the matter: you were going, and you’d be happy about it. And you didn’t have it in you to fight back.

She’s standing at the side of the mirror, scanning you from head to two.

“All black? Again?”

“I look good in black.”

“You look good in anything,” she agrees, turning to sift through your closet, “so why don’t we go for…?”

“No,” you clip, holding a finger up to the red dress in her hands. “No.”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s hot. C’mon.”

“Why do I gotta be hot?”

“I mean…is Mr. Miller gonna be pickin’ you up again, or…?”

You lob a previously discarded dress at her and she snorts, turning to slip it back onto a hanger.

Even his fucking surname sends a pang of pain through your body. Your heart jumps at the sound of it, like its hopes had risen for a second, but then it plummets with the realization that it’s not really Joel, and he’s still really gone.

You’re in a plain black slip dress, black denim jacket slung over your shoulders. Black lace-up boots, too. It’s like rodeo night, except without the fun and excitement of Joel waiting for you at the end of the night. It’s basically rodeo night’s funeral. And good fucking riddance.

Anna – always glittering, always in some sparkly getup – leads you out of your bedroom and down the stairs. Your dad agreed to drop you guys off, seeing as he’s out working later on.

He’s sat in his armchair, glasses on the tip of his nose, squinting down at the instruction booklet to that fucking Garmin he’s still wrestling with. He looks up and claps his hands once.

“Ready, girls?”

Anna nods eagerly and you lift your eyebrows, thinking about how Joel would laugh at the sight of his buddy still fighting a very obviously lost battle to a GPS. Then you think about how he’d tell you quietly, You look beautiful, darlin’, and ask you to text him when you got home safe.

And finally, you think about how much of an ass he is, and you blink the tears from your eyes before following the two blurry figures out to the car.

Anna snaps a couple selfies as the car winds out of the neighborhood, angling her phone to pull you into shot. The sun setting over the roofs of the houses dazzles your eyes. She tuts, tells you to Look like you actually wanna be goin’ out, and sends them to Kara, letting her know you’re on your way.

You’re watching her reply to a text from some boy she’s seeing when your dad’s ringtone echoes throughout the car, the name on the tiny digital screen the very last name you want to see right now.

Or maybe the very name you’ve been waiting all week to see. Just, on your screen instead of your dad’s.

“Hey, Joel,” your dad calls, and your body instinctively leans in to listen better. Drawn in like a magnet to just the sound of his voice.

“Hey, bud,” he replies. It’s like a punch to your chest. Hands around your throat. Salt behind your eyes. “I just got off the phone with Clark’s, they just dropped that equipment off at the site. Said there wasn’t nobody around to sign for it, so they just left it at the gate.”

“It’s a manned site, what do they mean there wasn’t–?”

“No idea,” Joel says, cutting across him. “Just said there wasn’t anybody to take the delivery.”

Anna’s head slowly turns in your direction, likely to take another dumb selfie or to ask some random question about your outfit, but you turn away, refusing to meet her hazel-eyed stare. Refusing to let her take your attention away from this phone call. From Joel.

Your dad sighs, runs a hand down his cheek. “I hope it’s still there when I get to it. Sure you gave ‘em the right address on Monday?”

“I wrote it down exactly how you text me it.”

Joel’s voice sounds flatter than normal. Less trademark Joel grumbly and more tired, deflated. A little irritated. It bruises your heart hearing him and not chiming in, not teasing him for potentially getting the street name wrong or something. Not letting him know you’re here.

Your dad does that anyway, though.

“Well,” he sighs again, hitting the turn signal, “I’m on my way to Frank’s – girls are havin’ another one of their wild nights out. I’ll head straight from there to the site ‘n make sure everything’s in place. Thanks, Joel.”

“You, uh…you got it. Call me if there’s anythin’ you need. I’m home all night.”

The call cuts before your dad gets the chance to say goodbye. Which doesn’t really matter, because he wasn’t talking to your dad. You know it, ‘n Joel knows it.

No. He was talking to you. He knew you’d be listening. Knew that conversation would mean much more to you than it ever could to your dad. And he knew you’d be hanging on to every word he spoke.

He’s home all night, which translates to: he’s only ever fifteen minutes away if you wind up needing him. If you end up wanting him.

You’ve spent the last four days purposefully stopping yourself from wanting him. Your thumb has hovered over his name in your contacts more times than you’d care to admit. Mostly at night, when your dad goes to bed and there’s eight hours of quiet – quiet you’d usually fill by annoying Joel, striking up a conversation at midnight when he’s about to sleep.

What the fuck would you even say if he did pick up? Would you be mad? Would you yell? Or would you just break down, sob a few incoherent sentences down the line to him and pray that he doesn’t hang up?

But then – would he even pick up? It’s not a thought you want to entertain much. That sound of ringing and ringing, and no gruff, Hey, baby, at the other end.

Your chest hurts. You take a gulp of air.

You’d happily have him never touch you again if he’d just come the fuck back.

Anna slaps your arm and Joel’s face is wiped clean from your mind. “C’mon,” she chirps, and nods out of your window.

You turn to see the faded blue brick walls of Frank’s, clusters of people outside clutching cigarettes and glasses, holding hands up to shield their eyes from the sunlight and tipping their heads back in laughter at one another. Kara stands among them, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. She waves when you catch her eye, stumbling out of the car in a daze.

Anna’s arm links through yours, almost violently, and she skips along the sidewalk to Kara, who joins your chain. The three of you stroll into the bar together and over to Sam, who smiles genially in welcome.

“Hello, ladies,” he sings, leaning in. “What can I do ya for?”

“Get us drunk, Sam!” Anna exclaims, rapping her knuckles on the bar top, and, for the first time tonight, you find yourself nodding in agreement with her.

Get me –

fucking –

hammered.

----------

You get your wish. Sam hands you a cold beer, and within twenty minutes you’re ordering a second. Anna and Kara opt for cocktails, some bright pink concoction that you don’t even bother to ask the name of, you just lean over the bar and tell Sam to make up a third.

And then there are the shots, two each, which are a hysterically terrible idea. You know it as you tip your head back, sickly taste of sambuca spilling down your throat and taking with it the very last of your good sense, apparently.

All the while, that phone call rattles through your head. Joel’s voice swings between your ears like a pendulum. His dry tone, the borderline contempt he spoke to your dad with. The thought of who he’s been with and what he’s been doing either side of that call burns like the drink in your belly, and forces you back up to the bar for another to wash him away with.

You rock against the dark wood, sticky with alcohol, and hoist yourself up onto a stool. “One peer, blease, sir,” you garble to Sam, one finger in the air. “Oh, wait…”

You throw your hand down onto the bar with a roar of laughter and lean back, forgetting there’s no back to your chair. It tilts back, and your hands fumble to grab the edge of the bar, but it’s too far, too late, and you land on the solid floor with a clatter – metal leg of the stool digging into your own.

“Fuck,” you hiss, dragging yourself back to your feet. A thin line of dark red blood cuts from halfway down your calf, streaming down into your boot.

“Are you okay?” Sam yells, stood frozen with the beer and bottle opener still in his hands.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, clambering to your feet. You don’t even convince yourself.

Sam doesn’t let go of the bottle when your fingers curve around it. He looks you dead in the eye and asks, “What’s goin’ on?” and you know he won’t let go until you answer him.

“Nothin’. I’m fine.”

Until you answer him truthfully, that is.

“I’m…It’s just…I got a lot goin’ on up here.” Your shaky finger draws a circle against your temple, and your eyes flutter closed.

“I can see that. Is this really a good ide–”

“Well, howdy, clumsy!”

The owner of whatever fucking annoying voice just shrieked through your ears slaps his hand down on your shoulder, almost toppling you for the second time in five minutes, and you twist around to find a pair of red, blotchy cheeks and almost equally red hair to match, stood before you.

“Hi…?” You squint your eyes to get a better look, the figure swaying with the room behind him.

“Hi.” He’s still smiling. Two huge front teeth, like a pair of overgrown Tic Tacs. “You have no idea who I am, do you? That’s…embarrassing for me.”

“Zack!” another voice screams over the bassline of the music. “Are you fucking coming or not, dude?”

A pale, jittery guy with a dark green t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame barges into the red-haired boy’s side, and a few seconds after his mouth stops moving, you register what he’s said.

“No – f-fucking – way,” you breathe, staring him up and down. His red flannel is tucked into his jeans, sealed by a brown leather belt. There’s a longhorn head on the buckle. “Zack? From Costco? What the fuck’d you do, stalk me?”

He laughs awkwardly, looking from you to over your shoulder, where Sam’s still holding your beer.

“Sorry–” you mutter, shaking your head. “I’m not at my best right now.”

“It’s cool,” he replies, grinning. “You look like you’re having a good night. I’m out with my buddies. This is Eric.”

Eric gives you a nod – his blond fringe jumps, and he jerks his head to sweep it back out of his eyes. “Nice to meet you,” he says, before rounding again on Zack. “Seriously, bro, he says he’s not waitin’ around this time. C’mon!”

“We were gonna head to the rooftop if you wanted to come?” Zack raises his eyebrows, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as Eric and another two figures make off for the stairs at the other end of the bar.

“Sure.” You blindly reach for your beer and Sam relents, letting it slip from his grasp. He calls your name as you trot off, and you turn for one second to give his worried stare a thumbs up, before swirling back toward the stairs. No second thought.

This isn’t the night for second thoughts.

The rooftop is quieter, less crowded. Background noise made up of passing cars, a siren in the distance, and the muffled music from downstairs. You wander over to where Zack stands with Eric and a couple others: a short guy with wireframe glasses, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, and someone you think you almost recognize.

His black V-neck looks like it might burst at the seams around his chest, swollen with muscle. Thick neck, holding up a square jawline, and a face heavy with features which mirror the broad body below.

And a thick smell of marijuana which follows his every move.

Zack shuffles to the side to let you into the circle. You shimmy in between him and Eric.

V-neck pulls a small metal case from his back pocket and fishes a cigarette out of it. Eyes start to shift around the group, the boys glancing over shoulders to check who’s watching.

“Are we…? Is that weed?” you blurt out.

“Shut the fuck up!” Eric hisses, jabbing his elbow into your ribcage.

V-neck eyes you down quickly. It’s the first he looks at you, and it puts a sickly feeling through your body. Sends the alcohol hurtling over itself in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows and wrap your arms around yourself, your beer bottle against your lips. “Sorry, jeez…”

“This is Knox,” Zack mutters, as Knox lights the cigarette.

He takes one hit, inhaling deeply with his chin in the air, and passes it to the boy in the hoodie. Another cloud of smoke joins Knox’s, slowly dispersing above your heads, and then it’s Eric’s turn. With a cough, his fist against his lips, he passes it to Zack. Soon, the air around you is thick and white, and Zack’s handing you the joint.

You lift it to your lips and inhale. The feeling hits you instantly; your body feels light, your face warm, your eyes blink in and out of focus, watching as a blurry shadow begins to follow your hand when you pass the joint back to Knox.

A couple more circuits, and the roach is pressed into the ground by Knox’s boot. The group separates; Zack and his friends fall into some metal chairs around a table, sparking up a debate on the best Lord of the Rings film, and you float around nearby.

“You a friend of Zack’s?” Knox asks, downing what’s left of his whiskey.

“Hm…Not really. We met at Costco, ‘cause I was there to get some party stuff for my dad’s friend’s daughter’s– Well, she’s my friend, too, and she wanted this garden party, and my dad’s friend was like, What the fuck is a garden party? you know, so I had to go help ‘im get stuff for it, with my dad, who was kinda a buzzkill, but anyway…Z-Zack helped me lift some sodas into my cart.”

Knox nods once. Fingers locked tight around his empty glass. He’s staring you down like you’re fresh meat.

You purse your lips and stare back, but quickly get bored when he doesn’t speak, and you miss Anna and her selfies and her sambuca shots. As you’re about to wander back to the door, though, Knox steps in front of you.

“So, you’re here often, then?”

Your shoulder knocks into his. “Huh?”

“Saw you last week. You were pretty spaced, don’t know if you remember.”

The memory whips past your eyes quicker than you can catch it, frames lingering only long enough for you to see Knox’s thick arm linked with yours outside Frank’s, the smell of weed in your nostrils, and the bright lights of Joel’s truck. And then it’s gone, before you can get a good grip of it.

“I’m…I remember now. Yeah. No, I’m not here much, I just…Rough week.”

He nods again, and you suspect he hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said since he got you alone. “You want another drink?”

The way he’s looking at you makes you feel more and more nauseous. Makes you want to turn and run back downstairs, slot in beside Anna and Kara, bury yourself between their shoulders and stay there until they decide they want to go home.

It makes you feel the way it felt last week, when he halted you outside the bar on your way to Joel. And suddenly the memory is soaring in front of your eyes again.

Your hand on Joel’s elbow. The frown on his face. Whitened knuckles around the steering wheel. ‘s go, pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl. Pretty girl.

“Yeah,” you tell Knox. “Yeah, I do.”

You follow him downstairs where he nods to Sam at the bar.

Sam ignores him, instead glares at you. “Can we talk…?” he asks, but Knox cuts across him.

“Beer, right?” he checks with you, and you nod. “And another whiskey.”

Your friend hesitantly grabs the drinks, glancing up at you every five seconds in a question. You respond by nodding slowly, feeling your head bounce each time you do.

You lazily scan the room for Anna and Kara, who you spot in a booth over by the window. The spotlights overhead reflect in the sparkles of Anna’s dress; Kara’s holding the straw of her drink between her lips, bobbing her head to the music. You saunter over, twirling on your way.

“Where have you been, baby?” Anna calls, giggling when you fall against the booth, palms flat on the wooden table.

“Upstairs,” you mumble, and then feel a tap on your back.

“Forgot this,” Knox says, pushing the beer into your hand. “You wanna go dance?”

Anna’s face twists into one of worry, and you give her an apologetic smile and spin off, following the wide frame to a dark corner of the bar where he takes your wrist and pulls your body against his.

He’s not doing much dancing, rather, he’s just keeping a solid grip on your waist, watching as you rock side to side, taking a couple shallow sips of your drink. You pull on his arm, Fucking move, dude, but he only leans further back, until he’s shrouded in shadows and pulling you into them with him.

When he leans into your space and snakes a drunken arm tight around your neck, you don’t retreat. You lean in, too, and plant your lips on his.

It’s messy, it’s a little gross. He tastes sour, weed and alcohol on his tongue, and it makes you wish you’d never started kissing him. Still, you take it further. You open your mouth more, letting more of him in, soak your own tongue, wet your lips. You barely even feel it when his hands move south and cup your ass, and it’s only when he squeezes that you wriggle out of his grip.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking hold of his sleeve to steady yourself. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, says something short that you don’t hear, and you lean back against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He’s smaller, much shorter than Joel. Your shoulders almost match the height of his. But he’s more built, he’s bulkier, in an uncomfortable way. Like trying to put your arms around a giant balloon or something. There’s no softness, no enclosing feeling when your weight presses against his. Just the huge surface of his chest, the hollow feeling of two mismatched bodies unwillingly pushed together.

Not strong. Not safe. Not secure. Not him.

But you’re kissing him again, because it’s the first time in five days you’ve felt something other than your aching chest and heavy head. You’re kissing him because you feel unwanted and unloved and, even though he seems almost as hammered as you are, it feels good to have someone want to be on you.

You’re kissing him because you’re trying to pretend it’s Joel.

Only he tastes…well, disgusting, and he smells different. He’s sweating from the heat in the bar, and his arms aren’t placed somewhere to make you feel wrapped in his grasp, they’re placed anywhere that he can pinch, squeeze, or otherwise fondle.

Joel’s face swims in and out of your head; a smile as he pulls you in for a kiss, a smirk when he’s telling you off, soft eyes when he’s listening to you talk. It makes you want to throw up.

That might just be the drinks.

Someone taps you furiously on the shoulder, and you push Knox off your body.

When your eyes fail to meet Sam’s, he takes your wrist and drags you behind the bar, ripping the beer bottle from your grasp and almost launching it into the sink. It smashes, and the liquid pours down the drain.

“Hey, what the f–?”

“I’m gonna call your dad,” he yells, deafening to your numb ears.

“Do not fucking call my dad,” you slur, laughing a little. “I’m fine! I’m having fun.”

“You’re fucking wasted. And that guy – he’s bad news.”

“Does it matter?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Who even are–? What the fuck is up with you right now? Yes, it fucking matters!”

“Not my dad,” you repeat as you back away, staggering over to the booth where your friends sit.

Anna storms over to meet you, slipping her wrist around yours and bringing you to a halt. “Did Sam find you?” she asks. Her hands plant on your shoulders, and she dips her head until you’re eye to eye.

She’s blurry. She’s nothing but shapes, and movements, and noises. And she’s fucking pissing you off.

“Can everyone just – get the fuck off of me?” you groan, stumbling backwards, and Anna links her hands with yours to stop you from collapsing.

She pulls you back upright, leaning in close. Her head shakes, you can see that much. But her expression is cloudy, and her hands don’t let go of yours so easily when you try to pull away. The orb-like shapes in front of you mutter your name, only it’s not Anna’s voice, it’s his.

Anna’s babbling, panicked tone drives through your skull. “She’s been drinking, like, a lot, and I think she might’ve had some weed upstairs. But Sam said he saw –”

“C’mon, kid,” his voice says again, and there’s a heavy arm pulling you off to the door.

“Get – off – of – me.” You struggle in his grasp, pushing his body away from yours, fingers expecting to find the V-neck collar of a black shirt and instead finding –

Buttons. The edges of a green flannel shirt. And a soft cotton tee underneath. And then his scent washes over you: warm, sweet, earthy. Grounding.

“Joel…” you whisper, thick with fear and intoxication and need.

His jaw angles down, you catch one fleeting glimpse of his chin, graying beard, tight lips hidden beneath it, and then you’re shoving his chest again, attempting to push him as far away from your own body as he’ll go.

Only he doesn’t move.

“Fuck off,” you seethe, palms flat on his pecs. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He says your name in a hazy blur, says, “We’re goin’ home,” and you almost laugh in his face.

“I don’t f-fucking think so.”

“Yeah? Well, I do. Thanks, Anna, I got her.”

“Hey,” a fourth voice joins the chorus, “hey, you know this guy?”

Knox pushes past Joel’s arm, unlinking your fingers from his, and takes your shoulder with one rough hand. All your anger, all your rage at Joel, and yet, the second you’re separated from him, the only thing on your mind is having his hand back around yours.

Joel’s upper lip twitches, he stares at the back of Knox’s head and then scoffs, reaches by him again to take your wrist. You let him have it. “Come on,” he says.

Knox is rounding on him, holding Joel back with a palm flat to his chest. “I ain’t too comfortable lettin’ her head outta here with some random old man, dude…”

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the –

Joel’s jaw ticks. His expression falls blank, narrowed eyes looking up and down Knox’s frame as you tremble behind it, Anna’s steady arm around your shoulders.

“Take your hand off of me, and move aside,” he snarls, voice dangerous. You can hear the threat, and at the same time, the desperate attempt from within himself to hold off.

“Hey,” Anna reaches forward, tapping Knox’s shoulder three times with a glittery nail, “she knows him. It’s fine. He’s fine.”

“Nah, man,” Knox hisses back, “who the fuck even are you? You ain’t takin’ her anywhere.”

You step forward, putting yourself between the two of them, hands clumsily landing on each of their shoulders. “He’s a f…my dad’s friend,” you slur, eyes unfocused.

Knox isn’t listening. He hasn’t listened the entire fucking night. His eyes are set on Joel’s as he wraps a tight fist around your free arm, trying to pull you closer to him. Only he’s hurting you, and your fingers struggle to pry yourself free, so you look up at Joel.

You couldn’t see Anna’s expression. Couldn’t make out the worry on her face that her voice clued you in on. You could barely even see Sam, when he dragged you out of the dark corner of the bar.

But you can see Joel. See the shadow his brows cast over his glower, see his thin lips, see the tightening of his jaw. See the rage inside him like it’s an alarm beacon, flashing red from behind his eyes.

Knox tugs angrily on your wrist. “You just gonna let this asshole ruin your night?”

“Let go of m-me,” you murmur, suddenly feeling the bar’s eyes on you. Your face reddens with heat from the alcohol, doubled by your embarrassment.

When he hears you, Joel’s face contorts into one you’ve never seen on his face in your life. Fury, disgust and fury, twisting his lip and tugging on his brows. He leans in and rips yours and Knox’s hands apart, pulling you free and shifting you behind his body with as much effort as it’d take him to click his fingers. Your weak hand reaches out to take a fistful of his shirt, holding onto him at his spine.

The men square up to one another, Joel at least four inches taller and, despite Knox’s built form, far broader. Knox takes a step forward and Joel matches.

“Joel…” you whisper, catching Anna’s gaping stare over his shoulder.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Miller?” Sam edges in from behind Knox. “I’m gonna have to ask that you…don’t…do this, but if you have to, can y’all maybe move it out to the street?”

“Do I gotta do somethin’?” Joel asks Knox. You pull in closer to his back, trying to hide your face from the spotlight cast on you by what feels like thousands of drunken eyes staring directly at you.

Knox thinks it over for a moment. You can see Zack watching like a deer in the headlights from behind his buddy. He’s seen Joel before, and you know from the way his eyes stick on him that he recognizes him. Remembers how briskly he swept you out of the soft drinks section, how blunt he was about it.

The V-neck swells with the deep inhale its wearer takes, and then he shakes his head, sighing. Smug smirk thick across his lips.

“Nah, man. I didn’t think she was gonna be worth the fuck anyways, so.”

Joel clicks his teeth, gives his head one quick shake, mutters a resigned, “Alright,” then reaches back, and nudges you gently by the stomach until you’re safely out of reach.

And then he swings.

Once, catching Knox across the corner of his jaw, sending his face skyward. The crowd around the three of you gasps. Knox’s burly chest twists, and he staggers backward. His hands come up to clutch his face before Joel’s taking the collar of his shirt in his fist, reeling him in and holding him steady.

“Joel!” you yell, but he doesn’t fucking hear you.

His second blow lands square on Knox’s nose with a crack loud enough even for your numb ears to hear over the thudding music. Blood sprays from his nostrils and floods down into his mouth, smearing across his cheek as Joel’s knuckles ricochet off the square face. The crimson pours down his chin, spattering onto his shirt, bright and shocking against the stretched black material.

Joel lets him drop and he collapses onto all fours, coughing blood and spit and whatever the fuck else onto the dark floor.

“Fuck!” Knox screams, fingers trembling over his burst nose – thick, dark droplets running down his hands. “You motherfucker, you broke my fucking nose!”

Joel stoops down, takes the back of Knox’s shirt in two rough hands and hauls him up until he’s limp on his knees.

“I ever see you around here again,” he growls, “I ever find out you’ve been anywhere near her, as much as looked in the same fuckin’ direction as her, I’ll do worse ‘n break your Goddamn nose. You hear me?”

Knox whimpers, more blood dribbles from between his lips, and Joel throws him down. He turns back to you, massaging his knuckles with his thumb, and grabs your hand.

Your voice is weak with shock. “What the f-uck was that?”

“Just – come on,” he says, dragging you out of Frank’s without another word.

He leads your wobbly form down the street, past chattering crowds toward his black truck, opening the door for you and helping your unsteady limbs up into the passenger side, before he closes the door over and strides around to the driver’s side.

When he shuts his door – more of a slam – he sighs, head leaning back. His hand clenches and then relaxes, loosening his knuckles, hissing anytime the quickly-darkening skin stretches.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“What you sorry for?”

You shrug. Your mouth trips over words. “…gettin’ you into a barfight.”

He doesn’t look over at you. Just Hms and switches the ignition on, pulling away from the busy curb.

“Where’s m-my dad?” you slur.

“Work. Site inspection, remember?”

You nod, turning back to the road when you start to feel motion sick. Your eyes feel like they’re spinning in their sockets, your stomach flips with the slightest turn. “He get that delivery?” you ask, letting Joel know you heard the phone call earlier.

His jaw turns in your direction. Letting you know he knows you heard it. “Yeah. He’ll be home in a couple hours.”

“Did Sam c-call him?”

“No. Why?”

You lean your head against the passenger window, the cold distracting your brain from the ache in your head. The streetlights sail by in a blur. The engine rattles through the glass.

“Asked ‘im not to.”

“Yeah? ‘n why’s that?”

Your head rolls back onto the headrest as you decide on an answer. I didn’t want him seeing me drunk and high. I don’t care about you seeing me drunk and high. I just wanted to see you.

“’s never seen me drunk.”

“Or high?”

You snort. “I’m not…”

When your head slants to the left to look at Joel, his face turns from yours. He was just looking at you, and you missed it. Probably had that look on his face, that Nice try, kid expression.

“Okay…” you admit, spiritless, “a little high, then.”

“Anna was the one who called,” Joel says. “Said you were hammered, some guy was all over you, ‘n Sam watched him put somethin’ in your drink. They couldn’t find you anywhere. She was fuckin’ hysterical.”

Your head bobs with the moving truck. “When’d he put someth…?”

Joel shrugs. “I dunno. But I believe it.”

So do I, you think. Knox was on you from the minute he saw you. Tight grip around your waist, your wrist, drawing you into him with beer and weed and whatever else he had in his pockets. The comment that had warranted him two bone-breaking punches from Joel all but confirmed the intentions he had in mind. And now you feel fucking stupid.

“I didn’t really…I only had a couple sips of it,” you hear yourself saying, head heating with embarrassment – an attempt to convince him, or maybe more yourself, that you’re not as dumb as leaving your drink to be roofied.

Your voice sounds pathetic, though, and Joel doesn’t say anything to make you feel better. Doesn’t say anything to make you feel worse, either – the silence does that by itself.

You bring your knees up to your chin, nestling a little into the seat. It could almost feel like nothing’s happened, nothing’s changed, except you’re intoxicated, and Joel’s hands are firmly by his person. Not on your thigh, or tangled between your fingers like they usually would be.

You study him. Stare at every part of him like it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see it, until the gentle curve of his nose and the glint of his watch face are burned into the back of your eyelids when you close them over. Face lit red from the brake lights in front, right hand sitting idly on his thigh.

He looks like your Joel. Almost. Just a little closed off. Distant.

But he came to get you, right? Damn near punched Knox’s lights out, took you by the hand, led you back to the safety of his truck. He came straight to Frank’s as soon as Anna called. And he’s taking you home. He’s looking out for you.

So why doesn’t he feel like your Joel?

Well. You can wager a pretty solid guess. It starts with L and ends with comma, Receptionist at Clark’s Plant Hire.

The dark silhouette of your house looms overhead as Joel pulls into your drive. Sure enough, your dad’s not home.

The engine cuts and your head drops, eyes fixing on your hands clasped in your lap. You know Joel’s watching you. What the fuck is he thinking about?

Fuck that. Don’t think about that. Let’s not dive into that pool of imagination.

“Well, thanks.” You do your best to smile, without really looking at him. Your fingers find the door handle and you tug on it, pushing it open and spilling out onto your driveway.

You hear Joel sniff behind you. “Need a hand?”

“I’m good,” you call back, only just managing to stay on your feet.

The cold air helps a little to waken you up, sharpen your senses, but the world around you is still a whir of dull color and shapelessness, and you wobble across to the house in a route of zig-zags, boots almost tripping over thin air as you go. When you reach your front door, you hear his truck lock and the shadow of him appears by your side.

“I said I’m good.”

“I ain’t leaving you, kid. You’re hammered.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but then he’s taking the keys out of your hand and unlocking the door himself, hand on your back as he ushers you into your own house.

“I’m f-fine,” you repeat, tripping over the doorway.

“Look it.”

You meander over to the stairs, and when your foot manages to find the first step, Joel says your name. Your gaze sweeps across the floor until it meets his boots, travels up his legs, and finally rests on his outstretched hand.

“Water,” he tells you.

“I’m fine,” you say, the word losing meaning the more you utter it. “I wanna go – to bed.”

He shakes his head, and then tilts it in the direction of the kitchen.

You groan, mumble something about him being such an asshole, and walk straight by his hand.

Joel doesn’t react. Just follows you and hits the lights, which burn your eyes when they flicker to life. You wince and point up to them.

“Off,” you bluntly order, and he grunts, stepping back to oblige. You’re plunged straight back into darkness.

You’re holding yourself unsteadily against the edge of the kitchen island, whole body swaying. The room is fucking spinning, the lights out back swirling with it in a blur of white motion before your eyes. You swallow dryly and turn around to focus on Joel.

He’s filling a glass over the sink. “What happened to your leg?” he asks over his shoulder.

You turn your knee, examining the dent in your calf where the stool leg cut into you. The dry burgundy stain like a backwards seam line on your skin, emerging from a bright red bruise slowly fading to deep purple.

“Fell off a stool,” you mutter, angling it in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Joel Hms again. “You got anything to cover it?”

You shrug, having lost any and all energy to barter back with him. He slides the glass across the countertop to you, followed by a bottle of painkillers, then turns back to the open drawer he pulled them from and begins rummaging for a band-aid.

Your shaky hand lifts the glass to your lips. It’s cold and slippery in your grasp, drops of condensation running over your fingers like the blood from Knox’s nose had run over his. The more you tighten your grip, the harder it becomes to hold, until it’s sliding from your clutch.

“Easy,” Joel murmurs, appearing at the side of you and placing his hands over yours, holding the glass still.

“Your knuckles are bleeding,” you say, eyes focusing and then unfocusing on the marks at the base of his fingers, the dabs of dark red where the skin has burst.

He slowly lowers your hands until the glass is safely back on the counter, and then pulls away from you, drawing his swollen knuckles in to his body.

“They’re bleedin’,” you repeat, looking up at him.

“I know they’re bleedin’.”

“Let me see,” you step forward, “Joel. Let me–”

He catches your hands in his. Pushes them back down. Stares at the counter, sighs instead of replying.

Your eyes sting, filling with tears that crowd your already-blurred vision. The punch you feel to your gut brings you to your senses as if it drains you of every substance in your system all at once.

It’s like he’s broken up with you all over again. And it pisses you the fuck off.

“Fuck you,” you whisper into the dark, and he doesn’t move. Doesn’t lift his eyes, doesn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, so much.”

You’re staring him down, what little you can see of him in the pale light cascaded onto him through the shades. The crease between his brows, more prominent with the frown on his face; the line his lips form with the tight clench of his jaw.

Fucking look at me, you think. He can say something back – anything. You can stand and hiss horrible words at one another, yell at each other if that’s what he wants to do. Argue until you’re blue in the face, until the alcohol’s all dried up and the moonlight on his chest is replaced by sunlight. Just fucking look at me.

“You’re an asshole and a liar, you know that?”

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Just stringing me along this whole time.”

You blink away the tears before they can fall, making room for more. They’re forming rapidly, each time heavier, and thicker, and angrier. But fuck it, right? This is over. He’s done, and you’re done. Just ignore the pain of it, stick your finger in the wound and keep pushing until you hit bone.

“That guy you punched? He was all over me. All fucking night.”

Joel’s voice is toneless. He’s already over the conversation before it’s begun. “I know he was, kid.”

“We kissed.”

“I know that, too.”

“Had his hands all over me. ‘n if it hadn’t been him, it woulda been literally any other guy in there.”

The words are starting to bleed into one another in your inebriated state. Anger turning to rage turning to fear turning to shame turning to hurt turning back into anger.

“Woulda kissed any one of ‘em. Mighta let them take me home, mighta let them fuck me.”

His head gives an involuntary shake and he blinks. Like he’s trying to wash the thought away. The image of you under someone else, moaning someone else’s name, pulling someone else into your body.

“That piss you off? It make you hate me?”

And then he looks up. Finally, his gaze locks with yours. And his eyes are just as glassy, just as fucking full of tears as yours. He replies with the worst thing he could possibly come up with. It forces the breath from your lungs in a painful exhale.

“There ain’t a thing in this world that you could do that would make me hate you, you know that.”

And then your tears start to fall. Your façade breaks. Stone crumbles. Dam bursts. They fall onto your cheeks, searing on your heated skin, rolling down onto the front of your dress in dark splatter marks.

Through a sob, you choke out another, “Fuck you, Joel,” and then, when you catch your breath, “you don’t get to – to sleep with someone else, and make me feel like the idiot for it.”

He looks up at you with a dark expression, lips locked tight like he’s refusing to let something slip. He shakes his head, and then says, “Can we not have this conversation right now?”

You scoff. A drunken, angry scoff. “You don’t wanna talk about her? When’s a good fuckin’ time, then? When suits you and f-fuckin’ – Lois?”

He falls quiet. Presses his fingers into his eyes. Sighs. “Baby,” he says into his palms.

“’m not your fucking baby,” you whisper between your teeth.

“Baby.” He drops his hands. Looks you dead in the eye. “I did not sleep with Lois.”

You’re frozen to the spot. Your lips fall apart, coated in salty tears. You’re holding your breath, though you’re not sure what for. The room stops spinning for all of ten seconds until he speaks again.

“I didn’t. I know what that message sounded like. Know how you musta heard it. But nothin’ happened, nothin’ has ever happened. Nothin’ would ever happen,” he says, a little more animated, tossing his hands in the air.

You stare between his eyes. He’s still enough that your fucked brain can focus on them, can see plain as day – even in the dark kitchen, even through your cloudy tears and all of the poison in your blood – that he’s telling the truth.

“Ex-plain,” you say dryly, looking down to his lips.

Joel sighs again. “I told you I had work to do. Had to head over to Clark’s to order that stuff for your dad. Saw her there, said hi. ‘n that’s all.”

Your eyes slowly close over, wet lashes on hot, dehydrated skin. Your ears are ringing, your body aching. You breathe a sigh as what he says sinks into your slow, throbbing brain, and then lull to one side, slumping against the counter.

“You didn’t…you didn’t think this was worth tellin’ me on Monday?”

“Tried, baby. You were gone. You were so angry; thought it’d be better if I let you cool off.”

“You’re – a fucking – idiot,” you seethe, shaking your head. It’s starting to pound again, sharp pain right behind your eyes like they’re being tugged backwards.

“Well, tonight, I guess that makes two of us.”

You grimace at him. “Lettin’ me go for four fuckin’ days thinking that –”

“– thinkin’ that I would actually cheat on ya? ‘s that what you think a’ me?”

“What did you ex-pect? You didn’t exactly try to – c-clear it up.” You step back, lifting a hand to cup your forehead with a groan. A mix of frustration, pain, and exhaustion in the form of a slow-moving ache hauls its way from one temple to the other.

“Baby, I gotta get you to bed,” Joel says, stepping forward. “We can talk about this when you’re able to see straight.”

“I’m fine,” you whimper, but it’s the least convincing you’ve sounded all night.

“Kid–”

“Don’t fucking call me kid. Like it’s some pet name, like you give a damn about me–”

“You think I don’t give a damn about you? You think I don’t care?”

Your head wobbles in response. It sends the room hurtling again, Joel’s figure swimming in and out of your vision. You grab the countertop again in attempt to freeze him in place.

He tuts and turns his jaw. “You know how much sleep I’ve had these last few days? Not a fuckin’ minute. I ain’t slept a single night, worryin’ about you ‘n what’s goin’ through your head. Like I give a damn about you. I wish I didn’t give a damn about you, baby. Make my life a whole lot easier.”

“Then, show me. Fucking prove it to me.”

“Prove it to you how? Break some asshole’s nose in a bar? Take you home when you’re wasted?”

Yeah. And also, no. Not just that.

You seethe. “You know what the fuck I mean. Do something about it.”

“I can’t,” he says, raising his voice. “Can’t take you out on dates, can’t put my arm around you, can’t kiss you ‘less there ain’t nobody watchin’. I can’t do none of what I wanna do. This is – it’s fuckin’…”

“…impossible,” you breathe, thick and slurred.

Joel lifts his head then, sees the look in your eye. He sniffs. “’s pretty damn hard, yeah.”

You tip your head back, feel the weight of your tears and your eyes and your brain slap against the back of your skull, a nauseating pull at the nape of your neck. You’re defeated. Nothing left in you to argue, talk, even so much as breathe.

Your words drag between one another, each one beginning with the remnants of the one before it.

“Just - take me to bed.”

He’s standing inches from you, hands hovering over your own, hesitant or unwilling or fucking afraid to touch you.

You ball your fists against his chest and give him one tiny, ineffective shove. But he’s bigger, stronger, sober. He doesn’t budge. Accepting defeat, you breathe one last, “Fuck you,” and brush past him, staggering out of the kitchen.

Joel – water and painkillers in hand – watches you like a hawk going upstairs, arms braced for you to lean on anytime you begin to tumble backward. When you do, his hand brushes your elbow, and you whip it out of his reach and reel it back in to your body.

He settles you on the bed just like he did six days ago, after your rodeo night. Only he doesn’t kneel, doesn’t take your boots off. Just walks away, grabs a tee from your chest of drawers and hands it to you to slip into by yourself.

You don’t even have to open your eyes. You know which one he’s given you. Can tell from the feel of the material, the cracked lettering on the chest, that it’s his Rangers shirt, the same one he put on you the first night you slept together. Smells more like you than it does him these days, but feels just like he always does. And as he waits a safe two-feet from you for you to change, no hands reaching out to help, to fix your hair, to stroke your cheek – you think the shirt will just have to do.

Everything he does is close enough for you to recognize him as Joel, and yet distant enough for him to be someone totally different. Every move he makes is pre-determined, all outcomes already analyzed and mapped, all risks carefully averted. It’s like he’s walking a minefield.

He hands you a couple of pills and helps with lifting the water to your lips. Then he sits at the end of your bed and applies the band-aid while you drag a makeup wipe clumsily over your face.

His thumbs linger on your fucked leg, rubbing over the padded dressing a few times after it’s stuck on, gentle and slow. Eyes never leaving the spot your skin broke open. And then, when you’re done with it, he takes the makeup wipe and quickly runs it down your calf, cleaning the dry blood from your skin.

Touch as delicate as though he were holding a rose – fingers brushing over your body like you might tear or fall apart at the slightest movement. When he’s done, he makes his way around to the opposite side of the bed.

“There’s a sleeping bag in the hall closet if you’d rather take the floor,” you tell him, rolling back and pulling your knees to your chin.

“Nah,” Joel says with the groan of a near-fifty-year-old man, kicking his boots off and propping his pillows up. “We’re close enough by now.”

He pulls the flannel from his shoulders and tosses it to the end of the bed, then slips in under the covers beside you, clasping his hands on his chest. His entire body a perfectly polite distance away.

Your wrist lifts, weak and limp, and your fingers ghost across his red wine knuckles. He winces a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches as you trace the curves of his hands, surfing the valleys where the bone drops, then back up to the peaks where the blood breaks from his skin.

“You didn’t have to…” you whisper. “He was just some dirtbag.”

He sniffs. Replies to you in his head, translated through the look in his eye. Wasn’t all about the dirtbag.

And you know it. Knox was just an asshole who took the hit for the last four days. Sure, he deserved it. But his big, ugly face and the uglier words which happened to tumble out of it were simply a punchbag full of sand; Joel’s fist hammering into it was as much about defending you as it was about punishing someone, anyone, the first fucker who wound up on the wrong side of him, for everything that had happened.

He's angry. At himself and at you and at this entire fucking mess. And you’re angry. At yourself and at him and at the very same thing. The two of you lie side by side in the dark, both broken and bruised and bleeding. You let out a small, pathetic sigh, and Joel echoes it.

His eyes close over and you stare at him. Stare at the faint lines on his face that slowly fade as he relaxes more, falls closer and closer to sleeping. Watch his chest slowly rising and falling, and his hands moving up and down with it. His entire body is still. Like it’s the first calm he’s had in a while. The first time he’s been able to settle.

And you stare at him. For hours, feels like. You stare at him until sleep, or alcohol, or something stronger coats over your vision and sweeps him out of focus.

----------

The wall opposite your window is lit with a single stripe of bright, nauseating orange, the sunrise staring in between your drapes. There are birds screaming outside. Your head is still throbbing and your throat feels like splintered wood and the other side of your bed is empty.

He can’t have left long ago. The mattress is still warm under the sheets he’s folded back over. His shirt is sat folded on the pillowcase.

You grab it and haul yourself out of bed – head still spinning, you trip out of your room.

He’s gotta be in the kitchen. He’ll be standing at the counter drinking a coffee, he’ll mumble a Mornin’, then pull you in and kiss the top of your head. He’ll ask how you’re feeling and if you want some breakfast. He’ll be Joel again.

“Joel…?” you call, rounding the bottom of the stairs toward the kitchen. No response.

The clock on the oven reads 5:57. The kitchen is deserted. When you loop around the island – as if he’d be crouched behind it or something – you notice an empty mug sitting in the sink, trails of black coffee at the bottom.

Your shaking hands cup around the ceramic. It’s cooling, but it’s warm.

He’s been in here.

“Joel!” you yell. Come out, now, this ain’t funny anymore.

You hear the squeak of wheels rolling to a stop outside and flee over to the living room windows, daybreak burning your eyes when you peer through the shades.

You’re frantically searching, going blind with the bright rays singeing your corneas, pacing back and forth between each window to get an angle on the street that will show you his truck. Show you him.

You don’t even notice the sound of keys in the door, or the rattle it makes as it pushes open.

“Hey, kiddo.”

You whip around. The owner of the voice lifts a hand to his puffy eyes and rubs them, yawning.

“H-hi, Dad.”

You look fucking insane. Hair all over the place, makeup haphazardly removed, Joel’s flannel shirt hanging from your fist. Wearing nothing but a long tee, a blood-seeped band-aid on your calf.

“Good night?” he says with a sleepy chuckle. “I am pooped. You want anythin’ before I head up to bed?”

You shake your head, but he’s not looking. Rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“Alright, I’m gonn–”

“Where’s Joel?”

Your desperation has reached a new high. Your pride, a new low. You just want him back, don’t care who knows or thinks or suspects what. Just come back.

“Huh?”

“Joel? He brought me home and I woke up and he’s gone.”

“He – Well, I…I suppose he’ll be at work, hon. He can’t stick around here all day.” He smiles weakly, and then swivels on his heels.

“He text you?”

He sighs, his back still turned. “What has gotten into…? Here.”

Your dad twists and throws his phone toward you. It lands on the carpet at your feet. Then he turns back and begins climbing the stairs.

“See ya in a few hours.”

When he turns the corner on the landing and his footsteps fade out of earshot, you bend and your fingers clutch his phone.

He has one unread text from Joel.

You unlock the phone with a click and open up the message thread. Your half-drunk, half-sleepy eyes flit across the screen, leaning back against the arm of the couch to read every word he ever sent your dad.

Joel: She’s in bed. Sat with her for a bit to make sure she didn’t roll onto her back. She’s a little worse for wear. I got a job up in Waco I need to be at in an hour, so I gotta head.

You scroll further back.

Joel: She okay?

Joel: Sarah says she hasn’t heard from her in a few days. We can come over for dinner tonight if you reckon that might help?

Further back still.

Joel: Sure, not doing anything anyway. Sarah in Nashville. Tell her to text me when she’s ready to be picked up. Hope she enjoys her rodeo night 🤠

Joel: Table booked for 6. Get you both at 5:45. Looking forward to it.

You scroll until your eyes hurt.

Joel: No answer. She’ll be home soon I bet.

Joel: You ever seen Grey’s Anatomy? Pretty good TV

Joel: Your daughter available tonight to help me put up stuff for Sarah coming home? I fear what might happen if I attempt it myself

You read the final message, the first thing he sent your dad after you got home. Six days in. He’d driven you home from work.

Joel: No problem, wouldn’t have her walking home in the rain. Was nice to see her again. She’s a sweetheart.

You’re laid back across the couch, your legs hanging over the armrest. You drop the phone to your chest and stare up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling a lot more sober.

She’s a sweetheart.

Your throat tightens around a sob. Like a fist clenching around your neck, crushing your breath to nothing. Your eyes well, tears slowly flood across your vision and then spill over, running rapidly down to your ears and seeping into the fabric of the couch. You’re still silent. Still unable to open your mouth.

You’re doing everything you can to hold back. To stop it from happening. But your chest feels like it could burst, and your eyes are screwing shut tighter and tighter, and your body curls up like an animal succumbing to a mortal wound, and then –

Then, you break.

It forces its way from your throat, hammering against the sides of your mouth before it’s escaping, tearing away from your lips and hurtling skyward. A deep, violent exhale. Broken, and painful, and heavy.

There’s no one to hold back for. Just you, sat in your living room, clutching the flannel of a man who doesn’t want you anymore.

Your breath stammers, shudders against the palms of your hands as your fingertips massage your eyes. You’re crying like a little kid, and it’s not making you feel any better, but no matter what you do, it won’t stop.

And you don’t know why. You tell yourself that: I don’t know why I’m crying. Almost laugh when you think it through to yourself: sobbing at 6AM over someone you were sleeping with, for all of, what, four weeks? I don’t know why the fuck I’m crying.

Except – you do. You do. And you’re totally, completely, undeniably fucked.

You sigh and close your eyes.

You are – fucked.

----------

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sh4wty18 · 4 months

Text

song about me.

VERY loosely inspired by 'song about me' by tv girl.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: over a month after your breakup, johnnie writes a song about you. upon listening to it, you decide to confront him.

cw: angst, fluff, language

word count: 1.9k + edited

---

Your best friend eagerly asks, “Have you heard it?” over the phone, to which you reply, “have I heard what, exactly?”

“Johnnie’s new song… it’s totally about you!” she clarifies.

You scoff, “There’s no way it’s about me, girl.”

You had broken up with Johnnie over a month ago. After nearly a year and a half of dating, you’d finally grown tired of his constant workload. It wasn’t his being busy that bothered you, it was the excuses he used. Every time you’d ask to hang out, he’d surely have some type of excuse as to why he couldn’t. Your entire relationship hadn’t been like this, either, which made his sudden change in behavior even more confusing and frustrating. The excuses and avoidance had only begun in the final three months of your relationship. You had tried to communicate with him, you’d asked him countless times what was wrong, if you’d done something to upset him, or how you could help him if he was struggling. He never opened up. He’d offer you one of his recycled excuses each time, “Nothing’s wrong babe, I just need to be alone tonight.” or “Not tonight, I’m too tired.” or “I’ve been busy all day, I can’t handle company right now.” Same excuse, different wording.

After three months of this constant battle, and an inability to get through to him, you finally decided to break things off. At least you couldn’t say you didn’t try. You had tried more than anything to make it work with Johnnie. When you’d first gotten together, you were sure he was the one. Evidently, things changed, although you hadn’t wanted them to.

“No girl, it’s definitely about you. Like… he’s down bad. You need to listen to it right now.” your best friend continues, “don’t you still miss him?”

“Ha! No. But I’ll listen to it and let you know what I think,” you lie through your teeth. Of course you still missed him. You loved him more than anyone, and breaking up with him was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But it was necessary, and it was the right thing to do. The relationship was becoming unhealthy– for both of you. You loved Johnnie, and still do, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t need to grow as a person. You figured you needed to grow too.

You had told him the day you broke up with him that you’d always appreciate your time together, and that if the two of you were meant to be, you trusted the universe to bring you back together. He had only nodded, as silent tears dampened his cheeks. That was the last thing you’d said to him. You left him there, alone in his bedroom after that. It was your biggest regret.

He hadn’t reached out since then, so you assumed he’d moved on, and you were trying to do the same. It wasn’t working. Nothing did. You missed him. You missed him like the sun misses the moon, like how the sea longs for the sand, you missed him day and night. You missed him at work, at the bar with your friends, you missed him in your dreams. It was an all encompassing heartbreak. You hoped you hid it well.

“You totally miss him…” your best friend said knowingly. “It’s okay, I get it. You thought he was the love of your life, it sucks! And it’s only been a month! No one, like, expects you to be fine.”

You exhale, “Thanks…” not knowing what else to say, “I’ll talk to you later.”

After hanging up, you click on the Spotify icon and type Johnnie’s name into the search bar.

LATEST RELEASE:

Losing You ⏺ Single

You press play, and are instantly met with a soft melody, most likely played on his acoustic guitar, with some added background instrumentals. Upon listening to the lyrics, you can tell the song is definitely about you.

And I understand why you left, it was for the best.

But did you even care? Or was I just too much to bare?

I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, will we ever heal the rift?

Now I’m stitching up my wounds, but what I really need is you.

Hot tears sting your eyes. The song was beautiful, but hurt you. Suddenly you realize that you can’t keep pretending to be fine anymore. Maybe, you decided, it was time to go talk to him.

—

You knock on Jake, Johnnie, and Carrington’s door, half expecting one of the other two to answer, but you noticed upon arrival that Jake’s car was absent from the driveway. At least you could have some privacy during your confrontation, you supposed.

To your surprise, Johnnie answered on the second knock.

He jolts back a couple inches, shock washing over his face, “Hi…”

“Hi. Can I come in?” You ask.

He hesitates, taking all of you in, eyes wandering up and down your body. He hasn’t seen you in over a month, and he wanted to refresh his memory of every curve, every freckle, every loose strand of hair. He had missed your body, but more than anything, he missed you. All of you. “Yeah, sure, of course,” he responds.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

You step inside, taking him in as well. His tattoos, some of which you didn’t recognize, his hair swept in front of his face, his makeup, everything. He looked good, you’d almost forgotten how handsome he was. You also took in the house that you knew so well. Being inside it again was like visiting your own grave.

“Can we go upstairs?” You ask.

“Sure…” Johnnie responds, furrowing his eyebrows nervously. You hated seeing him like this, nervous and unsure of himself. You wanted to make him feel good again, you hoped it wasn’t too late, (even though you were kind of mad at him too).

You both sit awkwardly on the edge of his bed after he closes and locks his door to offer you both some privacy.

“So… what’s up?” He asks.

“What do you think is up, Johnnie?” You ask, trying to maintain your composure. “You wrote a song about me, without asking. You aired our dirty laundry out for EVERYONE to hear. You made it seem like I left you stranded?! What the fuck?”

“You DID leave me stranded! It just wasn’t your fault! I was in a super dark place during the last bit of our relationship. Those last three months were hell. I was going through it, like super depressed and shit. But instead of being a grown ass adult and confiding in you like a normal boyfriend would, I pushed you away. Our breakup was all my fault. You left me stranded because I gave you no choice.”

“I’m so sorry that you were going through that alone, Johnnie. But it wasn’t my responsibility to save you. And believe me, I tried.”

“I never said it was.” Johnnie says with a hurt look on his face.

“Yeah, but you pushed me away so much, you made me feel like you didn’t love me anymore. And it’s so hard watching the person you love most suffer and knowing there’s nothing you can do to save them. Knowing that no matter what I did, you’d refuse me. ME. The one person you’re supposed to trust more than anyone. It was fucking exhausting Johnnie. Emotionally and physically. I couldn’t fucking eat, I couldn’t sleep, all I did was worry about you. And deep down I knew you needed to do it alone. Even though it hurt me more than anything to leave you.”

“I'm so sorry I put you through that. I know I was shit. I am shit. But I’m trying, y/n. I’m really fucking trying. I’m seeing a therapist again, trying to get out more. I wrote that song because it was cathartic. I’m sorry I crossed a line.”

“Thank you, Johnnie, but you’re not shit. You’re actually one of the best people I’ve ever met. That’s why it hurts so badly to see you like that. You deserve better, you deserve happiness and love and everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re worth it. And the song was really pretty by the way… I love it. Yeah, I was pissed you wrote it without my permission but I think it was just ‘cause I knew everything you said in it was true. It’s beautiful,” You respond, standing up and pulling him up by his hand. You wrap your arms around his waist in the biggest, tightest hug you’ve ever given him. You missed the way his body molded into yours. He held your body against his, neither of you wanting to let go.

Johnnie is the first to break away, but only to gaze down at you lovingly.

“What is it?” You ask, as it’s evident he has something he wants to say. “You know you can still tell me anything, right?”

“It’s just… I didn’t just write the song for catharsis. I wrote it because I couldn’t wait for the universe anymore,” he says, avoiding eye contact with you.

“What?” You ask, slightly caught off guard. Of course, you knew exactly what he was referring to, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“The day you broke up with me, the last thing you said to me was that if we were meant to be you trusted the universe to bring us back together. I don’t need the universe to tell me you’re the love of my life, I already know it. Y/n, I would die for you. I would lose everything for you. You’re the one. I took you for granted before and I never, ever wanna put you through that again. You deserve the world, and I fucked everything up. I totally understand if you walk out that door and never look back but I couldn’t let you leave without telling you that you’re the person I think about every night as I’m falling to sleep and every morning when I wake up. It’s always gonna be you for me.” He stops, gazing into your eyes. Your expression is unreadable, mostly because you’re too stunned to say anything back. “Say something please, or I’m gonna-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his on your tiptoes. He pulls you in tighter by your waist, while your hands fly up to tangle in his hair. He rotates your bodies and pushes you back onto the bed, before straddling you, your kiss getting messier by the second.

Johnnie breaks away, tears staining his cheeks, “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

You caress his cheek with your palm, drying his tears, “It’s okay, baby.”

He gently presses his lips to your forehead, cheeks, jaw, neck, hands, anywhere he can reach, breathing out, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” between each kiss.

You pull his head up to gaze up at him, and he still looks indescribably pained. “Hey,” you pull his head to yours to kiss his forehead, “I never stopped loving you, and I never will. You mean everything to me. Whatever comes next, promise me you’ll always confide in me. Even when you’re scared. Even when you feel like shit. Even when it’s hard. We can’t promise to never hurt each other again, because that’s bound to happen. But can we promise to always communicate with each other?”

“Of course, baby. God, you’re so fucking good to me.” He lays down next to you and holds your neck with one hand, tilting your head towards his. Your noses brush together and you both exhale a sigh of relief. You’d never leave each other again.

---

as always i hope you enjoyed and likes & reblogs are always appreciated! <3

#sh4wty18 #original one shot #one shot #fluff #original fiction #fluffy one shot #angst oneshot #angst #angst with a happy ending #johnnie x you #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie x reader #johnnie guilbert one shot #johnnie guilbert

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mavrintarou · 9 months

Text

[Daddies in December] Hatake Kakashi

Happy New Year! I hope you had a fantastic holiday. I know it's technically January now but I have a few drafts still and I think I can FINALLY get them out. This is long, I just couldn't stop.

Warning: Angst, reconnection, and smut

“I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, thank you for taking my class. If you’re in my next class, see you next year.” Kakashi ended his last class for the semester, dismissing his students.

One by one, each of them thanked and complimented him on his class, giving him great feedback.

At last, the door to his class closed and he took a deep breath.

Reaching for his phone in his pocket, he has a few unread messages but none from Y/n.

Ever since she dropped the bomb on him about her pregnancy exactly a week ago, neither has spoken to the other.

Kakashi didn’t exactly take the news well, blurting something he shouldn’t have said and every time he thought about it, he wanted to beat himself up.

“It’s not mine.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. It couldn’t be Kakashi. One, he always wore a condom. Two, he was nearly forty-three and his doctor told him he had low sperm count!

He was not blind to the pain written on her face.

Their last encounter did not end very well.

He used this week as an excuse to get through the semester for his students; now, he must face the consequences.

Day and night, 24/7, Y/n was all he could think about.

He’ll admit that he let his anger get the best of him. He let his past trauma control and dictate his actions towards Y/n, who didn’t deserve any of it.

Kakashi could come up with a million excuses and reasons how it cannot be his child, for one, after his injury during a mission, he was told having any children was no longer an option.

But he couldn’t excuse the fact that she was a virgin when he bedded her and Y/n wasn’t one to have multiple men even if they were officially in a relationship. Their fling was exclusive for the most part. Even if Kakashi had used condoms every time they had sex and had been told he couldn’t have children… there was always a possibility…

He groaned, suddenly remembering a time when they had both just come. Still in a daze of euphoria, he slipped off the filled condom. Only with Y/n, does he ever ejaculate so much. His cock was still erect, oozing with leftover cum.

Kakashi’s eyes glaze over her wet pussy that coated with her wetness.

He had only had raw sex once in his entire life when he was still young and that was the first and the last time he had done so…

But he was so tempted just to be swallowed by Y/n’s hot and tight pussy.

“Just once,” he murmured before slipping his cock, raw, inside of her. Y/n gasped at the same time he groaned, feeling the same bliss of skin on skin. “Just want to be cock-warmed by your pussy…”

Even if he had just allowed her pussy to wrap around his raw cock for a few minutes, that could have resulted in this unplanned pregnancy.

Y/n had no reason to lie to him, she wasn’t one to manipulate and trap him with a child.

He’d known her since she was twelve, he was best friends with her brother who was in the same military unit as him. Who died saving him.

Y/n knew she should have just left the fallen pen on the ground but her determined self wanted to be independent and pick it up.

Now, she was stuck in a crouching position, able to stand back up after successfully grabbing the pen.

Being almost eight months pregnant with twins, with only a solid four weeks left, she was large. Very large.

She gripped the edge of the table, taking deep breaths to build up the strength to stand without peeing in her underwear.

She needed help.

Her assistant Viv was out running a delivery and wouldn’t return for another ten minutes at the earliest.

“Are you okay?”

Y/n’s head snapped up, eyes meeting the father of her unborn babies. When had he entered her shop? How did she miss the bell ringing at the door? She blinked before looking away embarrassed.

“Why are you down there?” He looked over, frowning.

Taking a deep breath and setting her pride aside, “Kakashi,” she called his name sharply.

“Yes?”

She looked up at him sternly, “I need your help.”

His eyes widen in a flash of panic. “What’s wrong?”

Placing both her hands on the table, she reached out to him, “I can’t get back up, help me.”

Quickly walking around the table, he looked at her, seeing she was crouching down, “are you hurt?”

Y/n shook her head, “no, I just – I just can’t get back up, my belly is too big. Just support me and help me stand.”

Going behind her, Kakashi took her outreached hand and wrapped the other gently below her bulging belly, “slowly…” he cooed lifting her until she could straighten up. As soon as she was back on her feet again she tugged her hand away, walking away from him.

She cleared her throat, wiping her hand on her overalls. “Thank you. What are you doing here?”

Kakashi’s eyes fell on her belly, the last time he saw her was two months ago. “I…” he inhales, “I want to talk.” He noticed her body switching to defense mode, and he took a careful step towards her. “Just talk, that’s all.”

“I’m not sure there is anything to discuss, nothing needs further clarification.” Her tone struggled to stay in control. “You made it clear where you stand.”

Kakashi expected her hostile attitude and gave her a small smile, “you don’t owe me any of your time but I ask kindly, please, can we talk about the baby?”

“No.”

He exhaled softly, she was going to make this difficult for him. “Okay,” he continued to smile at her, “I’ll come back tomorrow and try again.”

She glared at him, and he knew it was meant to make him fear her, but he found her adorable. “My answer will still be no.”

“Then I’ll come back the next day.”

The next day, Kakashi returned, with a basket of fruits. The fruits Y/n likes.

“Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Every day Kakashi returned with a gift and would leave with a sigh and his usual phrase as soon as Y/n turned him down, “okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He stopped at the door and turned around, “please at least tell me what you would like for me to bring tomorrow. I’m running out of ideas.”

Before Y/n could tell him anything, Viv answered on her behalf, “Takoyaki please!”

Y/n turned her head, giving her a silent serious look.

“Takoyaki tomorrow then,” he waved before leaving.

“Seriously?” Viv groaned, “the man is doing all that to just talk to you. Can you imagine what he would do when you give in?”

Instead of answering her, Y/n turned her heels and headed to the cooler. Viv followed behind her, carrying the bag of chips and snacks. “I have seriously gained weight from all the gifts he has brought in.”

“Then stop eating it,” Y/n answered rather sharply.

“Well, you won’t eat it, so someone has to?”

Y/n ignored her, grabbing a few bundles of bouquets before heading back to the front of the shop.

“How do you guys know each other?”

Sighing, Y/n answered, “I’ve known him since I was twelve, my brother met him in school and since then he’s been pretty much part of the family.” She grabbed a white rose, one of her favorites. “They both enlisted into the military together and were deployed together.” Her breath hitched, “but Kakashi was the only one who returned home alive.”

Viv leaned over to hug her. She knew about her brother’s death and how it had affected her.

Y/n has barely spoken about Kakashi but it did not take much for Viv to put two and two together to confirm, she asked, “he’s the father of your babies?”

It was a long pause before Y/n answered quietly, “yes.”

“It seems like to me, he wants to be part of your life?”

For a second, Y/n zoned out. “He didn’t want us at first.”

“Key word, at first.” Viv clarified, leaning onto the table. “Not trying to create excuses for him but just stating that people can change overnight. He didn’t want you guys at first but what if he wants you guys now?” She stares silently at Y/n before walking away, “people can change and it could start with their actions.”

When Kakashi arrives the next day with two orders of Takoyakis, he glances around the shop looking for Y/n.

Viv greets him and answers his silent question, “she’s resting in the office, she kind of had a rough morning.”

“Ah,” Kakashi nodded, passing the bag of Takoyakis to her. “Maybe this might lighten her mood?”

Viv motioned for him to go on ahead to the back room, “it’s the first door to the left.”

Kakashi gently knocked on the door slightly closed door before slowly opening it. He catches sight of Y/n, her back facing towards him. “Hey…” He froze, hearing a sharp gasp.

Y/n moans, a hand clutching her belly.

A loud pop echoes the room followed by the sound of gushing fluid.

“Ah!”

Kakashi reaches Y/n before she can stumble forward. His eyes widen when he sees the floor wet. “Is that…”

“My water… my water just broke…” She gasps, her hand grips tightly around Kakashi’s arms as her contractions begin.

“What’s going on!” Viv burst through the door and gulped, “are the twins coming?”

“Twins?” Kakashi shouted, he looked at Y/n with wide eyes, “you’re expecting twins?”

Kakashi has been watching the chests of the two tiny humans rise and fall in one incubator. He had only discovered a few hours ago that all this time, Y/n was carrying twins.

He is now the father of not one, but two babies. A boy and a girl.

They were early by three weeks, his son is slightly smaller than his sister and has been crying from the separation of his sister after the cesarian surgery that the nurse has kept them together.

Y/n was recovering, and sleeping with the help of some medications and he left her alone to go visit the nursery.

The door to the nursery opened and the nurse peeked her head out, “would you like to come hold them?”

Dressed in a gown, Kakashi’s hands trembled as he neared his babies. They were so small.

“Would you like to hold one at a time or both of them?”

“Both,” Kakashi answered in a heartbeat.

He took a seat in the glider and the nurse carefully handled one baby at a time, setting one in each arm. He can feel his throat tightening at the immense emotions swelling within him.

Their hats were removed and after a wash and dry, Kakashi could see their physical traits.

Though it was faint, their hair was visibly silver just like their father's with Y/n’s eye color.

During the surgery, Kakashi kept his gaze and attention on Y/n, he had never felt so useless, unable to take away any of the pain she was feeling.

As soon as the surgery room echoed with the first cry, a tear slid from the corner of Y/n’s eyes. Kakashi reached to wipe it away, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

A second cry echoes the room along with the first baby and together, Kakashi and Y/n sighed in relief.

“Here are your babies!” the nurse carried them over, bringing them close.

Kakashi has never been a sentimental one but before he knew it, his cheeks were wet. Amidst the bustling room, his focus narrowed to the sight of the two infants’ cheeks nestled against the individual who had been nurturing them for the past few months.

He recalled reaching for his phone and capturing an image to cherish the moment.

Once they settled into a private room, the babies were brought back where Y/n got to hold the both of them for the first time. The nurse spent the next hour informing Y/n and Kakashi on how to care for the babies.

“Do you want to try and nurse them?” the nurse asked.

Y/n nodded, her gaze fixed on the two babies in her arms with affectionate eyes.

Kakashi was on the verge of exiting the room to give them some privacy when Y/n remarked, “it’s all right; you can stay.”

He stayed seated at the end of the bed, watching as the nurse helped Y/n untie her gown. He felt his cheeks flush when her breasts were exposed. Kakashi couldn’t help but notice how full and engorged they looked.

“Hey daddy, why don’t you come closer, you could learn a thing or two.” The nurse urges, waving him over.

Kakashi walked around the bed and sat beside Y/n. He tried to keep his heart rate down as he watched his son immediately suckle cutely the moment he tasted the liquid gold. He chuckles, his finger rubbing his chubby cheek.

His daughter remained snoozing. Kakashi reached to nudge her cheek gently, “hey you.” The tiny baby stirred and yawned adorably before whimpering.

Y/n giggled and brought her over to her other breast, urging and cooing the baby to suckle.

As soon as their feeding was over, Y/n was ordered to rest and the babies were brought back to the nursery. Not wanting to disturb Y/n, Kakashi made his way down to the nursery.

Cradling both infants in his arms felt surreal; he had only recently come to terms with the idea of expecting one baby, and now there were two. During the months when he and Y/n were apart, he discreetly acquired various items. However, he hadn’t presented them to Y/n, uncertain of her willingness to accept them.

An unsettling sense persisted with him, urging him to engage in a conversation with Y/n.

Kakashi truly wants to make it work between him and Y/n, not just for the sake of his babies now but because he really cares for her.

Y/n hadn’t voiced it yet, but she was thankful for Kakashi’s presence. Even if they are only working together for the sake of their babies.

She thought she would have to go through this all alone, and though she spent most of her pregnancy alone, she didn’t know what happened for Kakashi to change his mind at the last minute.

Whatever the reason was, she wasn’t going to question it because as much as she did not want to admit it, she needed Kakashi.

When she discovered she was expecting twins, she panicked. She had seen a single mother raise one kid and it already made her nervous but just her luck, she was going to be a single mother and raising two.

Y/n didn’t take the initiative to inform Kakashi about expecting twins, especially considering his initial reluctance towards taking responsibility. When the twins were finally born, she anticipated him making a hasty exit.

Upon waking from each hospital nap, her first thought was a concern about being alone in the room, wondering if he had discreetly left with no intention of returning.

It was as though he could sense it; Kakashi would enter her room and greet her with a smile as she awoke. Every time, he would inquire, “do you want to see the babies?”

He stayed with her for the four days of recovery and insisted on taking them home when they were finally released from the hospital.

Y/n was in no position to decline his offer, accepting it with a soft, “yes, please.” The car ride of them four was quiet. The babies slept through, tucked cozily in their car seats.

She didn’t want to assume or expect, she would take whatever Kakashi had to offer.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said quietly as soon as he parked in front of her apartment. She unbuckled her seat belt and froze when he turned off the engine to his car, unbuckling his seat belt as well. “you’re coming… inside?”

“Of course,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone, “you’re not supposed to be carrying anything more than a few pounds, remember?”

Kakashi carried both babies into the apartment, setting them down on the couch before returning to his car to gather the rest of the other items.

While it was just the three of them, Y/n cooed at her two sleeping babies. “Welcome home.”

“Kakashi,” Y/n called his name quietly, he turned his head, looking away from his daughter that’s nestled in the crook of his arm. “I appreciate you being here with us.” She inhaled softly, “but you are not obligated in any way to be here.”

It has been three days, three days of Kakashi giving them his undivided attention. He had told her that he would stay a few nights, only leaving home to shower and grab some items before returning.

Due to her cesarean surgery, she had restricted movements, with swift sitting and standing being prohibited. All remaining activities were geared towards minimizing the risk of reopening her wound.

She wouldn’t have been able to relax and stay off her feet if it wasn’t for the help of Kakashi. He had made their meals, handled the babies, and assisted Y/n with tending to her after-birth wound.

“I don’t want…” her voice croaked, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, because you and I both know – “

“I want to be here. I want to be here because I am choosing to be here, not because I’m obligated,” Kakashi clarified softly. He adjusts his daughter in his arms, “I know there is nothing I can do to take back how I had initially reacted to the pregnancy. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. The only thing I can offer you now are my actions, maybe my words.” He scoots closer until he is sitting beside Y/n who is nursing their son. “I want to be with you and the babies. Through it all. I’m not going anywhere and if I am, it is wherever you three are.”

Y/n stares into Kakashi’s eyes, searching, searching for something she knew was not there. “So,” she whispers, “you want to be with us as their father?”

“Yes.” He answered without a second thought. “I want to do the honorable thing and marry you if you allow.”

“For the sake of the babies?”

Kakashi stammered for a second, “well, that too but I want to be a husband to you.”

“Do you… can you love me?”

Silence sat heavy between them before he answered, “I can learn to love you.” He wasn’t sure if the tears that filled her eyes were tears of joy or pain. They pooled at her lower eyelid, refusing to fall down her cheeks. “I – I don’t know how to love, but I can learn. If you can give me a leeway, I’ll learn to love you.”

Y/n turned away so he wouldn’t see her tears fall as she quickly wiped them with her sleeve. “Okay. I’m okay with that.”

Nine months have passed and within that time frame, Kakashi proposed in the presence of their two-month-old babies and moved into their place, taking over the spare room beside Y/n.

They formalized their marriage in the presence of an intimate gathering. Despite being married, they maintained separate sleeping quarters. Their connection remains amicable, marked by occasional displays of affection centered around the babies. Their lives persist with the primary emphasis and priority placed on their little ones.

Y/n continued her life running her flower shop and Kakashi resumed teaching at the university.

With two babies, time went by quicker than they anticipated and before they knew it, winter had arrived and Y/n’s business slowed while Kakashi was on winter break.

It was the night of New Year's Eve, the babies had gone to bed at their usual time leaving Kakashi and Y/n alone. Though they spent many nights alone together, it was exceptionally different, considering that their first night together had happened the same day two years ago.

“Did… you want to watch the ball drop with me?” Kakashi asked when Y/n had finished preparing her nightly tea.

Caught off guard Y/n froze for a split second before answering, “sure, if you don’t mind.”

“Never, never with you.”

Her heart fluttered and she turned away to hide her red cheeks. “Wou – would you like a cup of tea too?”

“Please,” he said softly.

When Y/n returned Kakashi had lit a few candles and had two throw blankets out but he was nowhere in the room. At that moment, he exits the baby's room, returning.

“Emi began fussing but she went right back to sleep with the pacifier.” He reached for the cup of tea.

Y/n stepped forward to hand him the cup when she stumbled, the hot tea spilled onto his hand.

“Oh my God!” she shouted, setting the cup on the coffee table before checking his hand. She immediately tugged her shirt, gently drying his hand to inspect the burn. It was red. “Let me go get some toothpaste!”

She returned with some gauze and the tube of toothpaste and quickly applied it all over his hand before bandaging it up. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

Y/n looked up at him with worried eyes, not noticing that he had been quiet and allowing her to tend to his wound. He was happy to have this interaction with her.

Kakashi reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “Y/n.”

Y/n could melt that instant hearing him call her name, she always loved how he said her name. “Yes?”

“I’m tired of living this way,” his eyes flashed at his choice of words and he quickly corrected himself, “I mean in a way of I am tired of living like we’re strangers but parents to our children.” His eyes search hers, to make sure she didn’t misunderstand his initial words. “I want to be more than a husband to you, I want to be your rock, the person you can rely on.” Kakashi inhales sharply before speaking the next few words. “I want to be someone you love.”

“I do love you, Kakashi,” Y/n replied, “I have loved you for many years since I was probably a teenager.” She rubbed her thumb over his bandaged hand. “You were my first crush and first love. I still love you.” She looked down at his hand, “but you always just saw me as Brian’s little sister.”

With his other hand, Kakashi cupped her face, guiding her to look at him. “It is true, I did see you as Brian’s little cute sister who was so shy when I was around, but when I returned from my first deployment and you were nineteen… a grown woman… believe me when I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman in my life since that day.” He closed his eyes and released a deep breath, “then Brian and I were deployed again and that day – “ he choked on his words. “Days before that day, he had said to me – as if he knew his days were counting down, he said to me ‘I know you have something going for Y/n, I see the way you stare at her. I’ve noticed it. If anything ever happens to me, take care of my sister for me, will ‘ya? You’re the only man I trust with her.’” His thumb reached up to swipe the tear that slipped from her eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t exactly grow up with love or how to love? I learned how to love and be loved the hard way or no way at all. Please – give me grace… teach me how to love, teach me how to be loved, and teach me how to be in love with you because I don’t want it with anyone else.” He pressed his lips against hers. “I just want you love and I want to love you. Teach me how to love you so that you’ll love me back.”

Y/n threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “I love you, Kakashi. I love you and I am in love with you.” She lifts herself to look down at him with a bright smile. “I know you already love me, you show it to me in different ways but I know you love me and our babies.”

“Y/n,” he calls her name huskily.

“Hmm?”

“Please, kiss me…”

Y/n giggles and fulfills his request. Immediately everything around them began to escalate. Kakashi’s hands slipped beneath her shirt, rubbing her back. His fingers fumble with the back of her bra strap. “Kakashi…”

“Sorry, I just… I just miss touching you…”

“No – no please… please touch me. I need you.”

Kakashi groaned, “I need you badly too…”

“But before we have sex – can we share rooms? I… will it be too soon to move into one?” Y/n asked with a tint of pink on her cheeks.

Kakashi smiled, “you have no idea how long I have been dying to share a room with you. I missed you so much.”

“I just thought you didn’t want to sleep with me.”

He shook his head, “no – I wanted to after we got married but I didn’t exactly know how to approach you with that question. I didn’t know if… you wanted your own space still.”

Y/n pecked his lips, “move in, I want you to make love to me every night.”

“You might regret that…”

The bed softly creaked against the floor, thrashing against the wall with each slow thrust of Kakashi.

He rolled his hips, grunting each time his cock stroked entirely into her sweet pussy.

“I love you… I have loved you for so long…” His fingers tightened around hers as he pinned them above her head. “I don’t want to waste a second without you anymore…”

“Me too – me too Ka – ashi…” Y/n moaned and gasped, “I’m so close, please –“

Kakashi cut her words with a kiss, his tongue thrusting past her lips to dance with hers. He was close too, it had been too long and he wasn’t going to last much longer.

With deeper rolls of his hips, Kakshi groaned against her mouth as he cums into the condom. He continued to slowly thrust, feeling Y/n’s walls clench and tightly tremble around his cock.

As they came down from their high, Kakashi gazed lovingly down at her. “I might be late but… Happy New Year, I cannot wait to start this year with you and our babies.” Tenderly, he takes her hand, adorned with the wedding ring, and gently kisses it. “I love you, wifey.”

. . .

E/n: Kakashi is so #hearteyes

>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#naruto smut #kakashi smut #kakashi angst #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x oc #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake smut #naruto kakashi

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cherriegyuu · 1 year

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one more day| one | ljh

pairing: jihoon x f!reader genre: angst word count: 5k summary: every day jihoon has to make you fall for him again a/n: this was very much based on fifty first dates, but much more dramatic than the movie. i don't go deep into things (trying not to spoil it (?)), i didn't get technical about it as this was written just for fun. i hope you enjoy it. ↳ part two

You opened your eyes slowly getting used to the lights that came through the curtains – that were there only for decoration seeing as they did a poor job of blocking the light coming through the window.

You knew, even before you looked around, that you were at a completely different place from where you had been the night before. You were scared of making any movement that could break anything in that foreign place, something that was very unlikely to happen.

The other side of the bed moved and an arm made its way around your waist. Your eyes widened. You had spent the night with someone and had probably gotten stupidly drunk since you couldn’t remember anything.

You ran a hand through your face. What did I do last night? The last thing you remembered was having the worst fight with Bella, your best friend and roommate, and leaving the apartment in the middle of the night. It was unlike you to get drunk when you were feeling upset or angry, that simply wasn’t the kind of thing that you did. Suddenly you felt icy material against the tip of your nose.

Slowly you pulled your hand away from your face and looked at it. A thin, golden ring circled your finger. You knew that it wasn’t a simple ring, something that you could have bought at some cheap jewelry shop on the corner of your apartment. The ring on your left hand was heady, made of gold.

You looked to your left, to the owner of the arm around your waist. He looked so peaceful that part of you thought it might not be a good idea to wake him up. Something about him was familiar, but you couldn’t think of where you could’ve met him. Maybe, you tried to convince yourself, he looks familiar because you met him at a random bar.

“What did I do last night?” you asked yourself. You had gone through, probably, one of the wildest drinking benders of your entire life, was out with a complete stranger and - as if none of it had been enough - had somehow gotten married to him.

The urgency to call Bella and ask her to go pick you up was bigger than anything you had ever experienced in life. Caring little about the man beside you, you shot out of bed making far too much noise and movement than intended. But you weren’t able to go far because the stranger grabbed your wrist.

“Came back to bed, honey” the man said, voice muffled by the pillow “Lola doesn’t have piano lessons today, we can sleep till a little later.”

Who was Lola? And why was that man talking to you as if he knew you? Why was he calling you honey?

The desperation that only a second before was almost completely under control, had now become something quite scary.

With a sudden movement, you released your wrist from the loose grip of the man and began searching through the mess of clothes that were on the chair, looking from your own. You left the apartment wearing jeans, a sweatshirt that Bella had gotten herself but you stole the second she took it out of the bag and sneakers, none of which were in front of you or anywhere in the room. Giving up the clothes, you focused on finding your phone - the sooner you called Bella the sooner you would be home, safe and sound. But the device was nowhere to be found.

“Why can’t I find the damn phone anywhere?” you shouted.

That was enough to wake the man. In a leap, he was out of bed and looked around as if he was ready to strike someone. In any other situation, you would have laughed at the sight of him with his eyes open wide and his hair sticking everywhere but that wasn’t the best moment to laugh.

“I need to go, okay? I have a boyfriend and this was a mistake, I’m sorry” the lie slipped so easily through your lips that it even surprised you.

The alarm and concern in the man’s eyes gave way to sadness and fatigue. He ran his hands through his hair a few times without taking his eyes off of you. He stepped forward and you took a step back.

“I thought today would be different, you promised you would remember” the man said almost in a whisper, but it was loud enough for you to hear “I don’t know why I still believe it when you say that you’ll remember”

You paused for a second to look at the man standing in front of you. Your heart suddenly skipped a beat. He had brown eyes and the reflection of sunlight made you believe they were golden, beautiful lips, a slightly round face.

“What did you just say to me?” you asked.

The man breathed, the sound resembled that of someone who had been defeated after an arduous and exhausting battle.

“My name is Jihoon, I’m your husband. We are in our home. Bella is at her house with her husband”

You took a few steps back until your knees were pressed against a dresser. The man in front of you, Jihoon, said that he was your husband and Bella also had a husband of her own. But he was wrong, he had to be.

You and Bella were still in college and neither of you had a boyfriend. You were like two lone wolves who walked together so the loneliness would hurt less. If Bella had a husband, or just a simple hookup for that matter, you would know.

And you sure as hell would know if you had gotten married.

“You’re lying,” you said aloud, “I’m twenty, I’m in college and I have no boyfriend.”

Jihoon took a step forward, in a completely failed attempt to touch you.

“Do not come near me!” you shouted.

Jihoon a step back and raised his hands in surrender.

“I’ll go check on Lola” he walked up to the door “Can just you, please watch the video? You just have to turn on the tv”

And with that, Jihoon left the room and closed the door behind him.

Something in his voice made you look at the tv, your fingers drumming on your thighs, nervousness settling in the pit of your stomach. Even so, you watched the video. Uncertain of what you would see. You sat down on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath before pressing play.

The blurred image of sofa quickly came into focus and the man who was in that room with you just a few seconds appeared on the screen.

“You can start” Bella’s voice sounded through the room.

Why Bella’s voice? Why did this man seem so familiar, but why at the same time you had absolutely no idea where you could have met him?

Jihoon cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Good morning, babe. I don’t even know where to start. I think if I were to say everything in this video you’d watch it all day and tomorrow it still wouldn’t make any sense to you,” he paused for a moment, his eyes focused on his hands, before looking up and continuing “We met thirteen years ago. You were at the tattoo shop where I worked at, you made fun of me for not having a tattoo or even a single piercing. From the first moment I saw you I was completely fascinated. It was as if I had become blind to all the other girls. All I could think about was you. ”

You looked down at your wrist where the little drawing of a blue rose was.

“You kept going to go the shop constantly just to see me, you denied but we both know that it was true. Quickly you infiltrated yourself into my life. My friends became your friends, and Bella became one of mine” throughout the whole time while he was speaking, Jihoon had his fingers in the wedding ring and kept spinning it on his finger “It took me way too long to make some kind of move, but when I finally did something I knew I had made the most correct decision of my life.”

“Jihoon, I need you to look at the camera okay?” Bella’s voice sounded again.

“Right, sorry” Jihoon cleared his throat and looked back at the camera “Where was I? Okay, the best decision of my life. We dated for four years before getting married. I never knew if it was something that you wanted, you never gave me a lot of clues telling me what you wanted. We got married when you were just about to give birth to Lola. I remember that being the happiest day of our lives, or at least the second best”

This image of Jihoon sitting in an armchair changed and it became the image of a lounge, fully adorned. In the center, a couple danced. You couldn’t say that you were surprised to see that the couple was you and Jihoon. You wore a beautiful wedding dress and Jihoon had a suit on. A slow track song playing in the background, one that you couldn’t identify, as you danced, your head on his shoulder, as his rested on top of yours as you swayed from side to side.

The screen then changed and Bella’s smiling face came into focus.

“Hey y/n and Jihoon, just wanted to say that I wish all the best to you both. I couldn’t be happier for you. Thanks for asking me to be a godmother to little Lola, I can hardly wait for her to see this world. I know that I’ll have to split it her attention with your brother but I think we’ll manage. I love you, even you Jihoon”

In Bella’s place appeared an unknown man, you could only assume he was Jihoon’s brother.

“Hello, Jihoon and y/n. I’m very happy that you two are finally official, I know that before you were already together and living together, but nothing says ‘I love you’ like a marriage and a baby. Once someone said 'Children are proof that pure and true love still exists and that God has not given up on us’, well, for me you are proof that true and pure love still exists. Hopefully, both will enjoy your week in Paris. ”

Other people’s messages appeared, your parents and people whom you didn’t know or couldn’t remember, no matter how hard you tried.

You didn’t realize that you had tears in your eyes.

Somehow, although in a way you didn’t fully understand, that seemed to be the life you always dreamed of. Apparently, you had a man who loved you, friends and family, and a daughter.

Jihoon’s face came back and you did the best you could to push away the tears that clouded your eyes.

“We lived happily for almost a year. Lola was born a month after the wedding. You were at home for seven months, to make sure she was okay, you have always been that mother that fusses over every little thing. You got a job as a substitute teacher after the winter holidays”

Jihoon paused, looking down at his hands, and took a deep breath.

“I know that’s the hard part, but you need to continue,” Bella said in the video “We are almost at the end, okay.”

Jihoon nodded and ran a hand over his face.

“In a cold day, when the snow was melting, you were coming home. As always you drove carefully, but that day – one that single day – you forgot to put on the seat belt and in a slightly more closed curve the car… you got launched through the windshield.”

Jihoon just came out from behind the bedroom door after making sure that you were watching the video.

He walked over to the end of the hall, where was the room of your daughter. Jihoon silently prayed that you hadn’t woken up Lola.

He had been the one to tell her about you, about the accident. He couldn’t think of anything else to do, how to further hide it, when Lola would run up to you in the morning and you didn’t remember her. At first, the she looked confused, as if you, her world, had been torn away from her, but then she understood why her mother didn’t remember anything the next morning.

Or at least, Jihoon likes to think that Lola understood.

How could an eight-year-old grasp a concept that he, a grown man, past his thirties, was yet to comprehend?

His prayers were not answered when Jihoon saw Lola sitting in bed holding a stuffed bunny.

“I was hoping that you would still be asleep,” Jihoon said while sitting in bed.

Lola shrugged and climbed up her father’s lap, her arms going around his neck.

“Do you think” Lola began quietly, “that one day mommy will remember? That one day mommy will wake up and know who I am?”

That question was something that Jihoon knew would come one day. It was a question that he had prepared himself to hear many times but finally hearing it had been enough to crush the last remaining pieces of his heart.

He could still remember the very moment when he received the call that you had been in a car accident. Jihoon was at home, entertaining Lola until you got back from work. Everything had happened so fast. In a second he was happily giving Lola something to eat, and the next he was calling his brother, asking him to take care of Lola while he went to the hospital as the purest form of fear and despair had taken over his body.

Jihoon spent all possible seconds’ by your bedside during the month you spent in the hospital. No matter how much he wanted to stay with you until you finally came back to him, he needed to go home and take care of his daughter. Lola had never cried so much. During that one month you were unconscious in the hospital Lola cried desperately, as if she knew something was wrong - that her mother wasn’t there.

The hardest part was when you woke up.

Jihoon knew there was a possibility, that maybe, you could lose your memory, but he believed it would be only temporary - as the doctor said. But then six months went by and you still didn’t remember anything. All the progress they had made the previous day was completely erased from your memory when you closed your eyes to go to sleep.

In the first few months, Bella went to your house every day in the morning to help. She was the only person you remembered and the only one who could confirm that Jihoon was who he claimed to be, and things would be easier for that day. But after a while, Jihoon asked Bella to stop going. You were his wife, and it was his job to get you to remember him every single day.

“I don’t know, honey. I guess that it might happen” a lie. Jihoon knew that it was a lie.

Two years after the accident you underwent brain surgery. The doctor found that there was still some swelling in your brain, even after such a long time since the accident. In theory, it was all very cute and colorful, but the reality couldn’t be further away from the truth.

The surgery didn’t help, not in the way both you and Jihoon expected. The doctor said, “The brain is an inexplicable part of the body, there’s nothing wrong with her brain, but she can’t seem to keep her memory.” That was the hardest thing he had ever heard. The doctor was, with covered words, saying that you would never remember him, Lola, or the life they spent together.

“Why don’t you change into your uniform while I make breakfast?” Jihoon suggested. Lola nodded and got out of bed in complete silence.

The idea for the video came soon after news of the failed surgery. Jihoon had nothing to lose, if the video didn’t work they would have lost just one day. He asked for help from all the people who were active in your life: Bella, Jihoon’s brother, your parents.

There wasn’t a day when he could point to and say “This was the worst one” because the truth was that all days were very similar. Every day he’d wake up in the same bed with a woman that didn’t know who he was and that they had a daughter together, but that was the same woman he loved unconditionally and wasn’t willing to give up on. No matter what he had to do, Jihoon would always be by your side.

When Jihoon had just finished making breakfast, you went downstairs. You had put on a pair of jeans and the same light yellow sweater that you wore every morning.

“The last thing that I remember,” you started, and it was the same expression that Jihoon had seen in Lola’s just a few minutes before “was that I left the apartment after a fight with Bella”

That was a conversation Jihoon had with you every single day for the past seven and a half years, sometimes it went a little different but it was basically the same thing.

“You never left the apartment. You went to your room and slept to forget the fight” he told you

You nodded, leaving the kitchen and Jihoon followed you. He knew you were going to the piano, which was another daily routine.

“Is she any good?”

“She is the best of all”

You smiled, trying to accept the fact that you were married to the gorgeous man standing in front of you and that you had a daughter with him. You heard the sound of a door closing and then quick steps going down the stairs.

“Don’t run on the stairs,” you warned the girl automatically. You didn’t understand why you did it, it was as if your brain was programmed to say that.

“Sorry, mommy” Lola said as she went down the stairs slowly and holding onto the handrail.

Lola was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen in your entire life - or at least the part of your life you remembered. Lola had nearly black hair like Jihoon with cute curls at the ends, round brown eyes, but her most beautiful feature was her smile - it was exactly like her father’s.

“Do you remember me already?” Lola asked, stopping in front of you.

You bent down so you were at the same height as your daughter. Somehow, you knew in her entire bein, that that little girl with hopeful eyes was your daughter, it didn’t matter that your idiotic brain didn’t remember her. In your heart, you knew that it was true.

“Yes, baby, I remember”

“Then you will take me to school with daddy?”

You smiled and nodded. You didn’t know what would be the position Jihoon’s about it, but something said he wouldn’t oppose it.

“Go eat before it gets cold,” Jihoon said to her.

Lola stood on tiptoes to give a quick kiss on your cheek and ran to the kitchen. Your heart warmed with that small gesture. That little girl loved you, despite the fact that you couldn’t remember anything. Everything you knew about Lola was what you saw in the video and what you had just witnessed, even though you felt like you knew her.

“You want to know about the accident?” Jihoon asked behind you.

“No,” you vehemently denied “you were very explicit during the video”

Jihoon raised his eyebrows and smiled a little.

“That’s new, you always ask about the accident”

It was strange for you how Jihoon remembered every moment and you didn’t, even though you tried. It seemed unfair that he got to have it all, while you forgot everything when you closed your eyes. If you loved this man as much as the people in the video said, you wanted to be able to remember and perhaps even feel it.

“How does this work? How is it at her school?” you couldn’t begin to imagine how it was for Lola. The kids don’t usually let go of something, and if a child is taken as “different” the other ones might see her as the bad one, the one who doesn’t fit, for problems that weren’t even hers.

“She doesn’t care. You told her once that you would always remember her, no matter what happened.”

“But I don’t remember her,” you said sadly. You wanted to remember your daughter, wanted to remember all the times you spent together, wanted to remember the feeling of being pregnant, the first moment you saw Lola and fell in love with her even more; you wanted to remember Jihoon and every moment that you had shared. But that, at least for the time being, seemed the most distant and impossible thing in the whole world.

“I’m sorry” you said “This all must be hard for you. I mean, you have to remember me every day of who I am and what my life is like now, and take care of our daughter alone”

Jihoon took a step forward, nervous. In those first hours, everything was very uncertain. He wasn’t sure of what he should do or say. Before, completely detached from the reality that you now lived, a simple touch was enough to soothe you and make things calm down. But in that moment, even after eight years, he still didn’t know what to do.

“You don’t have to apologize for something you can’t control,” Jihoon said softly. He held your hand and when you didn’t pull away he continued “And I don’t do anything alone, you help me every day even if you don’t remember.”

You wanted to cry. Jihoon was a good man and didn’t deserve to go through all of that. It wasn’t fair to him. You wanted to scream to the world and do something, anything at all, so everything could to go as it should be. But crying wouldn’t do anything and there was no magic remedy that would bring back the memories you suddenly felt so desperate to have.

Taking Lola to school wasn’t the most difficult task of the day. You didn’t get weird looks, as you had expected the entire drive there. In fact, it was as if everyone knew exactly who you were and what happened.

With a smile you watched Lola get out of the car and run to the school gate, where two other little girls were waiting for her. One of them was like a little Bella and knowing that it was quite possible that she was her daughter, you made a mental note to call your friend later. Lola only entered school after waving at you with both hands and shouting “I love you.”

And there they were again, the tears. You felt almost stupid for that to be the third time that you wanted to cry that day. You cried watching the video, after seeing Lola in the living room and now saying goodbye to her at the school, all because you knew that the next day you would have to do the exact same thing without remembering that you had done it a thousand times before.

Jihoon took you to the roof of the old shop where he worked, a place he now owns. That was a place for you two, where you had shared memorable moments that were now just his.

“Why do you do this every day?” you asked after a few minutes of silence “Why do you insist on reminding me of who I am? You could have left me with my parents. I would be their problem and not yours. You could raise Lola the right way and maybe even find someone else ”

It hurt you to ask those questions, but you had to know. Jihoon was still young, he was only 33. You were sure that he wouldn’t have to search long and hard to find someone who loved him, someone who could actually remember him every morning and who could love him as much as he loved that person.

Jihoon didn’t answer for a few minutes, his eyes on the city in front of him. He knew everything he wanted to say and everything inside him screamed for him to say it, but he didn’t think he should. You were having a good day, asking questions that usually you didn’t, scolding Lola for doing anything remotely dangerous for a child. You had never done those things before.

With you, there was always a routine that was followed to the T by everyone around you. You woke up and didn’t recognize him, watched the video, asked about the accident, took Lola to school, went to Lola’s bookstore and spent the day inquiring her about your new life, returned home and had more questions, played with Lola and would go to sleep.

It had been the same way, every day for the past seven years. But not that day. For the first time, you didn’t run to Bella the first chance you got, you didn’t ask about the accident. Instead, you decided to stay with him and talk to him.

Jihoon was afraid to say something and things went back to that same routine. But what would he lose at the end of the day? Just a day you wouldn’t remember, and he still had many others to come. Then maybe, just once, he would say whatever he felt. He just needed to tell her everything, just once and never again.

“You once told me I was your superhero. You said that you knew I would always find you and make things right again. I never understood what you meant. I was always just a guy who liked a girl and would do anything for her, but now I understand why because you were also my superhero. Whenever I needed to, for any nonsense it was, you were there for me. We were each other’s lifeline, and you’re still mine. I couldn’t and still can’t imagine how my or Lola’s lives would be without you, if you weren’t there with us every day. Do we have problems? Of course, we have, but what couple doesn’t? Our problems are just a bit different from the most couples out there.”

Jihoon stopped for a second to breathe. He wasn’t someone who just talked about his feelings, it was always easier to shut himself out in order to protect those around him. But he knew he would have to talk about it, at least once - withholding nothing - or never have the courage to speak again.

You played with your fingertips listening carefully to what he was saying. You were sure that it was difficult for him to say those things, but it was also hard for you tp hear them.

“Lola loves you, she would love you anyway, no matter what. I see in your eyes every time you look at her, doesn’t matter if for you it’s the first day, you still have the same look as years ago” Jihoon ran his hand through his hair, “What I mean is that I don’t want any another person. I know this is hard, but if it was easy then it wouldn’t be fun and wouldn’t have half the importance it does. I do what I do because I love you, y/n. It’s hard? Yes, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You didn’t know what to say, absolutely nothing was going through your mind. At that moment, after listening to his words, you started to understand why you fell for him in the first place. Jihoon wasn’t someone who lived his life just for himself, he was the kind of person who cared about others and the people he loved were put on the priority list – at the first sign of trouble he would drop everything and go to them.

"You think one day I’ll remember? Because I know everything’s here,” you pointed at your head “Everything is just really clouded. I know it’s in here but I don’t know how to reach it”

“To be brutally honest about it? I don’t think so” Jihoon ran his hand through his hair again and sighed “I told Lola that your memory could come back, but I’m not so sure. It’s been seven years. If it was going to happen then I suppose it would have happened by now. Then what? Remember everything until the moment of the accident? But then you wouldn’t remember anything of what happened after that. None of it seems fair to me”

You nodded and stayed silent for a long time, just looking at the beautiful view in front of you.

You stayed most of the day on the rooftop, talking about everything that you missed. Moments you had been there for but at the same time you weren’t. Every single question that left your lips was met with Jihoon’s easy answers. He didn’t leave anything out, even if it meant that what he said wasn’t nice to hear.

You took his hand in your, your head leaning against his shoulder. He took a deep breath and you did the same.

“I promise I’ll try to remember everything. I’ll make notes, write everything. I’ll remind me of you every morning.”

Jihoon squeezed your hand back. Little butterflies danced in his skin, something inside him waking up after a long time.

“I don’t know how the other me felt when she fell in love with you, but what I feel right now should come really close to that.”

“I love you, y/n” Jihoon said intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I’ll fall for you every day, for the rest of my life”

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mcuamerica · 4 months

Text

The Shadowsinger: Eighteen

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. SMUT (wing play, shadow play, p-in-v, protected sex (Az is using the tonic), fingering, size kink), ACOTAR series spoilers, alludes to SA. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You spend your first Starfall out of the Mountain with Azriel.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen - Sixteen - Seventeen

You spent that night with Azriel. After you bathed, you invited him into your room and you laid with him. He told you about Mor, even though you knew the story. He told you about how he was always more protective of his family in Hewn. Especially when Keir was involved.

Az said he was upset that you didn’t agree with Rhys right away, that you would defend them if he asked. He expected more, and you understood. Azriel was Rhys’s brother, he would defend him to no end. Even if Rhys was in the wrong. You talked about that for an hour.

You spent half the night talking about the people you hurt on behalf of others. You had never hurt another person of your own will before, not before you joined the Night Court. Azriel, on the other hand, has hurt many people. Maybe on behalf of Rhys, but he equally felt it was justified. You learned he was much more aggressive when it came to his family, if anyone threatened them, it took a lot for him to restrain himself.

You didn’t fight again throughout the night and you eventually fell asleep with your head on his chest. His wings were spread out beneath him, and yours were tucked into your back. Both your shadows settled on the ground once you both relaxed.

When you woke up, you noticed Azriel was staring at you. “You’re beautiful in the morning.” He whispered, moving your hair from your face. The curls from last night had fallen out and you were pretty sure the kohl was probably smeared underneath. To you, you definitely did not look beautiful.

“You’re lying.” You whispered, even though your shadows whispered to you that he wasn’t.

“Why would I lie?” He asked and cupped your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“What are we, Az?” You asked, looking up to his eyes. “Are we… courting?”

Azriel’s stroking thumb stopped on your cheek. Your heartbeat kicked up, afraid that you pushed too far. “Courting is such a fancy term.” He said and smiled. “And I don’t think it quite covers how I feel about you..” he said.

“And how do you feel about me?” You asked quietly.

“Like I’m falling head over heels for you… and I don’t think I’m ever going to land.” He whispered, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek.

You felt a light heat rise to your face, a tender smile coming to your lips. Azriel wished he could capture this moment. The look on your face told him that you cared. You cared for him. “I’m going to be there to catch you. As long as you’re there for me.” You whispered.

Instead of responding, he leaned in, kissing you deeply. It conveyed everything the two of you were feeling. You were falling for each other. You were almost in love with him. But there was something holding you back. You hoped whatever it was would sort itself out. You knew that if you loved him, your life would be the most complete it had been in a long time.

Starfall was the next night. You hadn’t been able to see it in 50 years. Your dress was a deep midnight blue, with gems lining the entire fabric to make it glow in the light. It was draped across your shoulders, a sheer shimmery fabric flowed from your back to the ground. You couldn’t believe you found it the day before, and the seamstress was able to adjust it within the day.

You walked to the main dining room in the House of Wind, where many of the residents in Velaris were already celebrating. You spotted your friends, your family, and slowly walked over to them. You took Azriel’s arm when he offered it to you, thanking him when he complimented your look.

Rhys greeted you as well and you saw Feyre’s dress, a silver gown that took your breath away. Where did she get that? You noticed Feyre walk over to Rhys, standing slightly closer to him than she did before.

“Is this how lively it was when you were all here during those 50 years?” You asked, looking up at Az.

He tilted his head in a so-so manner. “We tried to keep hopes up, keep it a sacred night. But we never allowed any residents to the House. That was to be reserved for Rhysand’s first Starfall back.” He said.

“You seem happy.” You said, smiling up at him.

“I am. My entire family is here… and you’re included in that.” He said, a small smile on his lips. Seeing you smile up at him took his breath away. You were incredible. In every sense of the word. “Were you ever allowed out on Starfall?” He asked.

You shook your head, your smile falling to a small frown. “No… Amarantha knew how important Starfall was for the Night Court. She would take Rhys into her chambers… I can only imagine what she made him do.” You said and looked over to him, your heart clenching at the sacrifice that Rhysand made so his people, these people, could be safe. “For the rest of us… well most of the Night Court people were bound Under the Mountain anyway. For me, she would force me to do some horrid thing to spies… it always ended with me killing them.” You looked outside, smiling as you saw the River. “This year, I can properly appreciate the migration of the spirits. I hope it’s as beautiful as I remember it.” You finished.

Azriel took his arm from your grasp, wrapping it around your waist to pull you closer to him. He kissed your temple tenderly and you looked up at him as he said, “You’re with your family now. And we won’t let anything like that happen again. Starfall will always be a night when we spend it outside, nothing above our heads.”

You smiled and leaned up, kissing his cheek. “Thank you Az,” you said.

Mor brought you both something to drink and you spoke with her and Amren as more and more guests filed in. You knew Rhys had a special system for getting everyone up here tonight, and you were glad for it. You could see all the residents in their gowns and with their partners.

Rhys and Feyre disappeared somewhere when Starfall started, but you and Az found your own little corner on the balcony. He rubbed your waist, not even watching as the spirits started to ascend. He kept his eyes on you as you admired them flying through the sky. You laughed gently as you saw a few people get sprayed with dust, looking up at Azriel. “You’re missing it.” You said, nudging him.

“I’m watching something just as beautiful.” He said and you blushed, nudging him again.

“You flatter me, Spymaster.” You said. “My room has a private balcony.” You added, looking at him. “Care to join me away from this?” You asked, turning to face him fully.

He glanced around, taking in his family as they celebrated and watched the spirits flying across the sky. “I’d love to.” He said, looking down as you took his scarred hand in yours, walking towards the stairs.

You got to your room, stepping out on the balcony. You took in the brisk wind, watching the spirits. Your shadows hid in the corner, even Azriel’s joined them. “Can I tell you something?” Azriel asked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You spread your wings so he could rest his head on your shoulder, his breath tickling your neck.

“You can tell me anything.” You said and turned your face towards him. You could feel the spirits flying by close enough that you could touch them if you reached your hand out.

“I haven’t felt this content in a long time. And it’s all because of you.” He whispered and pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

A gentle smile appeared on your lips, leaning into his touch. “I feel the same way.” You whispered, looking out to the sky with him. “Can I tell you something?” You asked quietly.

“Anything.” He answered, pulling you closer.

“I didn’t think I could ever be happy again… not after Amarantha claimed me as hers. I never thought I would be on my own again, that I would always be tied to her or what she made me do. I would be suffocating because of the things I’ve done,” you said. “But I found a place here. With your family… and when I’m with you…” you took in a deep breath, turning in his arms. You leaned against the edge of the balcony, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “When I’m with you, Azriel, I feel like even after all that I’ve endured, I can breathe again… And I truly hope that feeling never goes away. Because you make my life feel complete.”

He studied your eyes, leaning down to rest his head on your forehead. “I hope I can always help you breathe, too.” He said.

You closed the distance in between you two, kissing him deeply. You tangled your fingers on his hair, savoring the taste of the liqueur on his tongue. You let out a small whimper when he squeezed your waist, trailing his hands down to your rear to give that a squeeze as well.

He lifted you up by your thighs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he carried you to the bed. Your hands drifted to the ends of his wings, smirking against his lips when they twitched and you felt the bulge in his pants grow.

“Azriel…” you whispered as he laid you down. “I want you to touch my wings.” You whispered and looked into his eyes.

He studied your face and when you nodded, he kissed you again. “You’re sure?” He asked.

“Yes. I trust you.” You whispered.

“You just say the word… and I’ll stop.” He said and kissed your neck before he looked back up to you.

“And you tell me the same.” You said, bracing yourself as he slowly untied your dress from the back, letting it fall from your shoulders. His intense stare as he examined your body made the heat in your core grow.

You reached up, unbuttoning his own shirt as he leaned down to pepper kisses your collarbone. “You are beautiful.” He whispered against your skin, reaching back to slowly touch the edge of your right wing.

You bristled, arching your back from the small touch. “So are you.” You whispered and slipped off his shirt. You ran your hands down his chest, dragging your nails against his abdomen. “And I want you out of these pants.” You growled.

His chuckle reverberated off of the skin above your breast as he stepped back, unbuttoning them and letting them fall to the ground.

You lifted your hips, pulling the rest of your dress down to fall to the floor. Something about being completely bare in front of Azriel unlocked your inner need, pulling him on top of you.

He tsked, kissing your neck. “Not quite, sweetheart.” He whispered and shifted, pulling you on his lap from behind, so your back and wings were against his chest. “If you want me to touch your wings, I’m going to find every spot to make you feel good.” He whispered in your ear, nipping your lobe.

You leaned your head back to look at him. “Don’t tease.” You pleaded.

“We didn’t agree to that.” He smirked and reached around, squeezing your breast with one hand as the other trailed the center of your back to the inside of your left wing.

His gentle touch on your wing compared to the hard squeezing of your breast made you arch your back again, moaning out his name. “That’s it baby… do you like that?” He asked and trailed his fingers down the bottom of the membrane, finding the spot that had you leaking on the thin layer of underwear separating your bare folds and his covered shaft.

“I think I found it.” He whispered and took the hand that was on your breast, quickly plunging it into your folds.

“Azriel,” you moaned, bucking your hips as his fingers curled inside you. His shadows came out from the corner, swirling around that sensitive spot on your wings as he dragged his fingers across it. His thumb reached up and pressed your bundle of nerves, you letting out a yell as that brought you over the edge. Your fluids pulsed out from you, still clenching around Azriel’s fingers as he slowly pulled them out.

You watched as he brought them to his mouth and sucked, letting out a moan of his own. “Delicious.” He whispered and turned your face completely, kissing you deeply.

Still reeling from the orgasm, you barely noticed as he flipped over so he was on top of you, his hands pulling off the fabric covering the bulge.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer, sweetheart.” Azriel whispered as he kissed you again, his hand trailing down to pump his shaft a few times, and then coated it with your slick.

You bucked your hips at the feeling, looking down to see the large cock that was just about to enter your folds. “Don’t hold back. I need you, Az.” You whispered, then looked up at him as he slowly entered you.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear.” He said and kissed you deeply, swallowing your moan as he pushed inside.

He eased in, groaning against your lips as you squeezed his cock. “You’re so tight. Cauldron…” he ground out.

“Az… gods you’re so big.” You whined, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder.

He looked down, almost finishing at the sight of you stretching around him. He eased in all the way, planning to let you adjust for a moment until you took the bottom of his wing in between your fingers.

He lost control, pulling out and pounding into you. “You’ll be the death of me, sweetheart.” He said. “Keep doing that.” He said.

You whimpered and squeezed your fingers slightly, your other hand holding onto him as he relentlessly pounded in and out of you. Gods, you knew he was huge but the feeling on him inside of you, stretching you out to the brink of tearing you apart…

“Keep squeezing me like that and I won’t hold on much longer,” he said.

You squeezed your eyes shut, gasping as he hit the right spot, your folds continuing to squeeze and convulse around his large shaft.

“Please.. don’t.” You whispered. “Let go, Az.”

He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You look at me while I fill you, hmm?” He said it like a question, but you knew it was an order.

“Yes,” you whispered and stared into his eyes as he pounded into you. You came undone again as he took that sensitive spot on your wing in his fingers. He did the same when you reached around, touching the corresponding spot on his wing as well.

He spilled his seed inside of you, coming to a halt as you convulsed around his shaft. “Azriel… that was incredible.” You said, your voice hoarse from the yelling.

He hummed and slowly pulled out of you. You whimpered and held onto his shoulders, digging your nails into them as he did. You let out a shaky breath, pouting as you saw him get up and disappear into your bathing room. He came out with a cloth, kissing your neck as he cleaned you up. Your hips bucked one last time at the sensation, still sensitive from your orgasm.

You watched as he laid down next to you. “I think it was more than incredible, sweetheart.” He whispered and kissed you sweetly. “It was extraordinary.” He said.

You settled on his chest, your breathing slowing. You glanced out the window, smiling as you saw the spirits still flying by. You smiled as you said, “I guess what they say about wingspan is true.”

A/N: Their special Starfall night...

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maximoff-pan · 2 years

Note

steve and reader drabble about a secret relationship mayhaps? 😫

you know I can’t resist writing for this hunk of a man ;)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): some swears, being caught red handed 🤭

quick a/n: hi lovelies! sorry for being m.i.a recently. I’ve gone back to school and it’s been too busy for me to write anything. I apologize for this being rushed/incoherent, please forgive me….

part two

Fucking girls night…

Whatever possessed you to think this was a good idea, you’re not entirely sure. Honestly, you can’t even remember who convinced you to come; they’d all been begging you for weeks to finally show up to one of these things. And now that you’re here, you’re quickly realizing why you’d been so hesitant before.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this flustered or uncomfortable in your life, and that’s definitely saying something. Really saying something…

It’s not the fact that everyone here has a significant other that bothers you. It’s the fact that everyone here has a significant other, and they think you don’t. Because as far as they’re concerned, you’re as single as single can be.

Which would be fine if it was the truth. But it’s not. And the guilt is starting to eat at you. How many more times do they have to try and set you up before you break?

Quite frankly, at this rate, it feels like you’re almost there.

“What about Peter Wilson?”

Robin recoils at Nancy’s suggestion, picking her nails in disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You remain quiet. They’re trying to find you a boyfriend, again.

“What’s so bad about him?” Max inquires.

El adds, “He’s kind of cute.”

“Sure,” Robin scoffs, “If you’re into delusional sociopaths.”

Tilting her head, brow quirked, Nancy asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Robin’s pitch drops slightly. “Let’s just say, that incident where Stacy Mathers almost drowned last summer, wasn’t so much of an accident.”

Max’s eyes widen. “You mean he tried to–” she trails, too disturbed to even finish the sentence.

Robin nods. “That one’s as sadistic as they come.”

“Okay.” Nancy agrees, moving the conversation along. “So that’s a no on Peter.”

“Ooh.” El claps, eyes locking with Max. “What about Adam?”

“Adam Richards?”

Max and El nod together.

Your head has never whipped around faster. “You can’t be serious!”

Your voice catches Robin’s attention. “First of all,” she smirks, “welcome to the conversation! And second of all, what could possibly be wrong with him?” She knows exactly what’s wrong with him, she just wants to see you squirm.

“Rob, he’s fucking sixteen.”

“And?” Max joins in.

“I’m almost twenty.” You state. That should be reason enough, but as you glance between them, they don’t look convinced. The concern on your face is evident as you say, “I am not about to be some cradle robber!”

“But he’s like,” Max pauses adding on a valley girl accent, “the hottest Junior at Hawkin’s High.”

Your face scrunches in disgust, mimicking the accent back. “Fucking, ew.”

Nancy and El giggle at the interaction.

“Okay, so you’re not into younger guys then.” Robin teases, a sparkle of mischief in her stare. “Noted.”

These girls are going to drive you into madness…

“You know what else I’m not into?” The cadence of your voice carries with a hint of amusement. “My friends desperately trying to set me up because they think I’m pathetic and lonely.”

“But you are lonely.” Is El’s retort. Three pairs of eyes widen at the remark, but not yours. El’s bluntness has never surprised you. It’s actually pretty comforting, because you know she’d never lie to you.

Nancy hisses with a whine. “El.”

You’ve been around the Wheeler’s long enough to know that Nancy was raised to be a proper young lady, one who would never dare offend anyone. That alone causes your lip to quirk in bemusement.

You chuckle, feelings quite intact. “Oh good.” Your smile is cheeky. “At least you don’t think I’m pathetic.”

“She never said she didn’t.” Max points out with a grin.

“Hilarious Maxine.” You mock a sarcastic and melodic laugh.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.” El cuts in before Max can say anything else. “I just think you need a boyfriend.”

You have half a mind to say ‘I’ve already got one,’ but you bite your tongue.

Just like you have for the last six months.

That’s half a year of trying so hard to keep your relationship status on the down low. Because things with Steve are new, and after many years of denying any feelings towards each other, you finally decided to go for it. But, on the off chance you both found that you were better off as friends, you came to the mutual decision that waiting to tell the kids (and everyone else) was the best idea. As much as you think they’d be happy to see you two together (and boy have they pushed for it), it’s not something you’d want to get their hopes up for.

You’re serious about Steve, more serious than you’ve ever been about anyone before. As much confidence as you hold in your love for him, you know he’s serious about you too. And maybe now that you’re certain (at least on your end) that you’re both sure, you can start to tell everyone about your relationship. For tonight though, you’re going to have to continue playing the role of the lonely single.

How tragic…your mind wanders.

“Oh my god!” Nancy’s interjection catches you off guard. She’s masking her smirk well, but you can still see it. “How could I not have thought of this?”

Her surprise feels more like it’s been planned, like she’s been thinking of a way to bring whatever she’s been thinking about into the conversation without rousing too much suspicion.

“Thought of what?” Robin asks, feeding into it.

Your eyes narrow.

Nancy leans over to whisper something into her ear. The chain continues with Robin leaning in to tell Max, and Max whispering it to El, leaving you thoroughly left out.

What is she planning?

“Uh, a little inclusion might be nice.” You tutt.

Four pairs of eyes bore into you, excited smiles resting on each of their faces.

Here it comes, you think.

“All this talk of boys…” Nancy starts. “What about Steve?” She asks.

And there it is. “Guys.” You groan. “Not this again.”

“C’mon (Y/n), please?” Max’s whine is on the verge of a full on beg. “I know you’ve thought about it. We all see the way you look at each other.”

“Like I do.” El’s matter-of-factness is not so comforting in this moment. “With Mike. And Max, with Lucas.”

“Oh!” Max exclaims. “Remember when Nancy and Jonathan first got together? They were really good friends, like you and Steve.”

You take a quick glance over to Nancy who’s now gone quiet, a pink blush covering the softness of her cheeks.

“Guys. Steve and I are just that,” you eye each of them with a deep intensity, “friends.”

Nancy remembers saying the exact same thing to Murray Bauman after he’d accused her and Jonathan of suppressing their feelings.

She hadn’t quite known then how strong she felt about him, as she does now. But as she glances in your direction, she reads an expression on your face that she wasn’t expecting: guilt.

You don’t exactly look like someone who’s freaking themselves out over their newly discovered — and to everyone else, totally obvious — feelings for their best friend like she had. Instead, you look like you’ve accepted them, and more so, if Nancy is as good at reading you as she thinks she is, you look like you’re hiding something.

“You’d be perfect together.” Is one of Max’s last attempts of the night at convincing you. She only wants to see you happy. Maybe if she just pushed a little more.

Your heart wrenches at her words.

You hate lying to them, you really do. You’re almost not sure why you’re doing it anymore, but you can’t seem to stop yourself.

God, you wish a black hole would suck you into the abyss. “Max, you know that’s not how it works. You can’t decide you’re going to be with someone just because you want to be. There’s a whole other person to consider.”

“Semantics.” She puffs a breath of air, waving you off. “And not if that other person is already head over heels in love with you.”

“Max.” You warn with the tilt of your head and an extremely deep breath.

Robin jumps in, lips pulled into a cheeky grin. “I’m not hearing a no.”

If that’s what it’ll take, you think, “Then no.” You finally say.

Robin catches your gaze, her eyes softening. All hints of teasing seem to be gone. There’s no way this can mean anything good.

“I know I don’t do this often,” she starts, “but I’m going to say something in all seriousness here.”

“Please don’t.”

Robin’s unimpressed stare tells you that she’s not only going to ignore your request, but she also really means what she’s about to say. Her voice is steady and calm as she speaks, “Steve likes you.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you suppose it is. At least now.

“He’s told me. I mean, he really, really likes you… like marry you this instant, thinks about having six kids with you, likes you…” She drags the words slowly trying to emphasize her point.

You know this. But you have to play that you don’t. “Jeez, I don’t know about the six kids and the marriage part, I think you might be getting way ahead of yourself there Rob,” your voice drifts slightly. “But I’d hope that at the very least Steve likes me. It’s not like he’s one of my best friends or anything.”

Max lets out a low groan. Robin has basically confirmed that Steve (despite everyone else already knowing this) is in love with you, and you’re still refusing to acknowledge it.

It’s beyond frustrating. “You’re so hopeless.” She says.

“Am I?” You jest. As guilty as you feel, this is sort of fun for you.

“Terribly.” Is her reply.

You grin, happy to change the subject. “Can’t make things easy for you now can I?”

“We’d never expect you to.” Stormy blue orbs catch yours, a flicker of recognition flashing back to you.

There's a hint in Nancy’s voice and demeanour that tells you she knows more than she’s letting on. The look she gives you says it all: your secret’s safe with me.

You shouldn’t be surprised that she picked up on it. She’s probably known for months. Because not only does she know you and Steve better than almost anyone else, she knows exactly what Steve looks like when he’s in love.

With a soft smile falling onto your lips, you breathe a sigh of relief in the moment of brief silence that rests between you. Someone knows, and they approve. Your eyes glimmer gratefully. Thank you. Your signal is nonverbal, but she understands nonetheless.

You’re welcome.

• ж • ж • ж •

Steve wonders how you’re doing right about now. Because at the moment, he wants nothing more than to be with you, hanging out and not having to worry about keeping this a secret.

For the past hour, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike have been driving him up a wall. Susie this. El that. Max, blah blah blah.

Mike had started it all with a quick, ‘Hey Steve, why don’t you have a girlfriend?’

Then Lucas had joined in. ‘Yeah, what happened to you man? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of God or something?’

“He used to be.” Dustin had assured them. “Still is. The God’s somewhere in there.” Dustin poked at Steve’s chest. He’d seen Steve in action before, he knows the charm is real.

The pale raven haired teen beside Dustin then snorted. “Bagging my sister doesn’t count.”

Steve almost punted Mike over that one. Smug little bastard…

And that’s not even the worst of it. Steve can take the constant teasing of his romantic failures; he’s been doing that for years now, taking blow after blow to his ego. It’s Eddie’s creepy staring that’s sending him over the fucking edge. Every time he looks over, there’s Eddie, already looking at him.

Steve shudders at the thought. He can feel Munson’s pair of deep brown eyes burning holes through his back, the hairs on his neck raised in discomfort. It’s like with every breath Steve takes, Eddie is analyzing it. He’s this close to smacking Eddie upside the head and telling him to cut this shit out.

It’s only when they get a moment alone does he discover the reason for the Hellfire club leader’s strange behaviour. They stand awkwardly in Mrs. Henderson’s kitchen, fumbling for snacks for the boys when Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“So,” his smirk is apparent. Steve didn’t know someone could smile that wide. “I was thinking.”

“Ah.” Steve hums trying to settle the nervous pit in his stomach. “Is that what that was?”

Eddie chuckles. “You know what Steve-O? Just for the ‘tude, maybe I shouldn’t tell you what I was thinking…” he trails.

That’s a challenge if he’s ever heard one, and he’s not about to bite. Eddie is anything but patient.

“Fine by me.” Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he passes him to grab a bowl from one of Dustin’s cupboards.

Eddie’s brow raises in surprise at his response, running a hand through his curly mop of hair.“Woah, c’mon.” He moves swiftly following him. “I was only kidding! Of course I’m going to tell you.”

Steve grabs the bag of popcorn from the cupboard, and pops it into the microwave. “Alright.”

“Okay.”

A couple of moments pass before:

“So?...” Steve’s fingers drum across the countertop in anxiety.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Oh right.” He says, watching the time tick down on the clock. “It’s more of a question really.”

Steve moves to grab the bag out of the microwave as the timer beeps. “Shoot.” He replies, gently dumping the popcorn into the big plastic bowl. He’s kind of proud of himself for keeping this calm when he feels so on edge.

“Stop me if I cross the line or anything,” That’s never a good start to a sentence…

Eddie’s voice lowers in volume, but his tone grows in confidence. There’s something else to it, amusement…satisfaction maybe, Steve can’t quite place it. But he doesn’t like it.

Amber eyes meet a honey brown. Steve’s not sure how many seconds pass before he hears Eddie say:

“How long have you and (Y/n) been fucking?”

Well, fuck.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #stranger thing imagine #stranger things x reader

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sunshinechay · 9 months

Text

I absolutely understand why Babe would forgive Charlie so quickly. These two moments right here explains it perfectly:

And this one

Babe has spent almost his entire adult life feeling like he can’t love anyone. Feeling like he can’t, like he wasn’t worthy of that love, that he wasn’t worth it. He wanted someone who would love him uncondititionally and completely. Someone who would take care of him and not judge him. Then came Charlie. For all of Charlie’s flaws and lies, that is the one thing I don’t think I’ve ever doubted. Charlie loves Babe. He loves Babe so much but he also knows that if he tries to tell Babe who he is right away, Babe will reject him. Babe will, like he did at first, assume that it is all a part of Tony’s plan to get Babe back, to force him to go along with what Tony is planning.

With the foundation that their relationship has now, Babe knows that Charlie loves him. That everything he did, no matter how fucked up, was because he loved him. Charlie offers to die so that Babe will gets his senses back. I think that right there says a lot about how much Charlie loves Babe. How much Charlie loves period. He was even willing to lie to Tony on something easily fact checked. He lies and says he hasn’t seen Jeff. If Tony doesn’t know Jeff works at the garage I’d be very surprised. Charlie is so completely willing to put himself into harms ways for those that he loves. And Babe knows that.

So Babe forgives him. Babe forgives Charlie because Charlie disproves every single negative thing Babe has ever thought about his ability to love, about his ability to be loved. Babe is so starved for love, for touch, for someone to love him. Charlie gives it to him in spades, never stopping. Babe feels safe enough with Charlie to actually love him back. Something he has never done before, he’s never felt like he could.

This is also not so incidentally why I won’t get on the “Way might be a walking red flag but I’m color blinded” train. I have felt the exact same way Babe has felt before, something I still struggle with to this day. That kind of intense self loathing is tough to live with. Babe lived with his for years before Charlie. He never felt like could love anyone, and Way made him feel that. Way made him feel like he wasn’t worthy. It feels like an extremely fucked up version of “if I can’t have him no one can”. I do think it comes from Way also feeling similar to Babe, which is why I am still ultimately sympathetic to Way as a character, but the boy needs to step the fuck back from Babe and let the man live his life and be happy with Charlie. Babe has said so many times, including to his face, that he and Way could only ever be friends. Way just doesn’t seem willing to accept that, which a big yikes for me. Add the hypnosis on top of that and if this were in any other genre, I’d be voting for Way to get his head lopped off. Still I love Way is able to move on, whether that is with Pete or not. Hopefully his and Babe’s friendship will improve because of it.

So yeah, I don’t find it surprising at all that Babe is willing to forgive Charlie that easily. Charlie is everything he’s ever wanted on a silver platter. He was also willing to be completely honest with Babe as soon as Babe asked for honesty. He didn’t lie, he didn’t beat around the bush. He explained it all, point blank. He didn’t even lie about being the reason Babe lost his senses, even when he could have and it’s likely Babe would have never found out. Charlie proved that he does love Babe, genuinely and completely. He wants to protect Babe no matter what. He is willing to do anything. It’s exactly what Babe wants and what he needs. I have no doubt Babe will give back as good as he gets too.

This likely isn’t the end of the road for this discussion. I think they will revisit it eventually, though under what circumstances I can’t say. For now, Babe is willing to forgive him easily, because he loves Charlie and Charlie loves him. In the end, that’s all Babe wants and now that he is getting the chance, he’s going to grab it and hold on with both hands. He knows he can do that because he knows, down to his core, that Charlie will do the same for him.

#pit babe #pit babe the series #babecharlie #charliebabe #pit babe meta #yes i finally got the chance to watch the episode #and i am in my charliebabe feels right now #to distract myself from the lack of alanjeff this episode #and yes before anyone tries to say otherwise #i am looking forward to more of way and pete #i do like way #i just hate the way he treats babe #he’s like some kind of manifestation of the dark voice in babe’s head that makes him believe all of the negative things about himself #and i hate that #anyway #*gestures vaguely*#cap watches pit babe #cap speaks

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pemguims · 2 months

Text

hrpf fic recs!!!!!

hello hello! i have been meaning to do this for so long but i am finally here with my list! i've tried to keep some of the more 'obvious' choices off here (for example top kudos pieces like king and lionheart) but some will slip through bc. i like them <3

i will mention main trope / trigger warnings on each fic but read tags before u read etc etc etc

also i love ABO and generally prefer long fics so srry if that doesnt align w ur interests! i also will read any and every pairing under the sun, so a lot of these are just random pairings :3 also i haven't tagged th writers tumblr accounts bc that ? felt odd to do for some reason ? but if u would like to be tagged lmk !!!!!! <3

sidgeno:

the biblical sense by sevenfists - word count: 57,896 ✷Sid, I’m so—I’m sorry,” Geno said. “My stupid—I’m ruin everything, I—” “Shut up, Geno,” Sidney said, already intensely weary of listening to Geno’s self-recrimination. “You’ve barely even done anything.” Geno’s voice dropped what sounded like an entire octave. “But I want to.”✷ (ABO, canon setting)

th first hrpf fic i read which got me into hockey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

leave the lights on by coricomile - word count: 17,692 ✷"Okay?" Geno asked groggily. Sid snapped out of it. Cold sweat broke out across the back of his neck. He inched away, tucking his hands under his thighs. He wouldn't have- Geno didn't deserve to be hurt. Sid would never- "Your head?" "Yeah," Sid choked out. Geno leaned forward and soothed a big hand over Sid's hair, his lips twisting at the corners. His eyes were painkiller bright, glazed over enough that they looked like marbles. He left his hand on Sid's head as his eyes slid shut. Sid sat still as Geno dozed and counted his breaths.✷ (TW: OCD, mental health issues. canon setting)

anything that touches by saysthemagpie - word count: 48,578 ✷Sid knew how to smile. He knew how to make the muscles work, how to soften his face into something less rigid. Geno liked him happy. If he wanted Sid easy and pleasant, here at the end, Sid could give him that. Geno asked so little of him.✷ (TW: Sexual assault, prostitution, abuse, trauma. canonish-AU)

probably one of my top 10 favourite fics ever ngl. so so good so beautiful so sad i have such a vivid memory of reading this for the first time at like 11pm hunched in bed trying to cry rlly quietly so i didnt wake my bf KSBDBKJ. one of th most harrowing pieces of literature i think i have ever read <3

blood from the stone by saysthemagpie - word count 80,903 ✷It wasn’t the prospect of pain that frightened him. Zhenya was a hockey player: he was used to pain, even to violence. But this wasn’t like a fight on the ice—tempers boiling over, hot rage spilling out everywhere—cathartic, necessary, even if it got him sent down the tunnel. This was different. There was nothing here to push back against, no way to assert his own will. In a little while Crosby would come to him, and Zhenya would open the door and let him in. Crosby would feed from him, taking what he wanted from Zhenya’s body. And then they would be bound.✷ (Vampires, forced bonding. canonish-AU)

another banger another harrowing tale!!!!!!!! sidney crosby u will suffer!!!!!

morning to wake you by oflights - word count: 54,104 ✷I've been calling this The Sexual Misadventures of Sidney Crosby forever, and that gives you an idea, but just in case: in which Sidney wins a gold medal, has sex (a lot), falls in love (twice), and breaks a bunch of rules.✷(canon setting)

swallow the fire by cascara_soda - word count: 6367 ✷“It’ll be okay. It’s my choice,” Sid said, and it was only sort of a lie. Or, the 1989 Super Series Winner’s Room AU.✷ (canon AU setting)

life is wine by coricomile - word count: 9414 ✷"I see you watch him," Geno says, leaned in so he's talking directly into Jamie's ear. Jamie tenses, but Geno doesn't move away. He drops his arm over Jamie's shoulders and it shouldn't feel like a trap, but it does, even if Geno doesn't do anything other than hold on. "Is hard not look, I know." Sometime after Jamie got distracted by Sidney's ass, Hags had left the booth and subsequently left Jaime alone with Geno, abandoned except for the clutter of empties.✷ (canon setting)

ache by pheobus - word count: 4079 ✷Sid wasn’t an omega, but just once he wanted to be selfish. Maybe Geno would realize that this wasn’t how things were meant to be, or that there was simply no way Sid could be anything other than who he was. His thoughts were all twisted up, stuck in overwhelming cycles of what-if. Sid liked who he was, what he was. He didn’t want to be an omega. But dear God, he wanted Geno to mount him like one.✷ (ABO)

more than anything by getoffmyhead - word count: 17,011 ✷Sid and Zhenya had been together—officially together—for three years when it happened. Three years of normal, committed relationship sex. They hooked up plenty before that, too, without ever veering into anything weird. They didn't have a sex dungeon. They didn't own nipple clamps. There was nothing in their history that could have prepared Zhenya for the thing that came out of his mouth the first time he and Sid slept together in Miami.✷(canon setting)

i think abt this fic all the time

mattdrai:

so is the longing by dog juice - word count: 44,669 ✷After being forced to take suppressants for a year, Matthew's body is a mess. He has an excruciatingly painful heat every two weeks, and there's no medication to help him.To make matters worse, he's been traded to the Edmonton Oilers. Now, not only does he have to deal with his collapsing body, he also has to contend with Draisaitl, who has made it pretty clear he hates Matthew's scent. If the universe could give him a fucking break, that'd be great.✷ (ABO)

mattdrai fic of all time. in my opinion.

sea change by andthreequarts - word count 33,596 ✷“Wait, is that what’s happening here?” Matthew pushes forward, gets close. “Is that why you were being weird?” “Shut up,” Draisaitl growls, backing up. “Oh no,” Matthew laughs. “This is the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. Leon Draisaitl, an alpha’s alpha. Who would have guessed it, you’re into an omega with barely any scent?”✷ (ABO)

misc:

vince dunn / adam larsson (seattle kraken) serenity in those deep waters by angry_geno_is_score - word count: 114,312 ✷In his second season playing for the Seattle Kraken, Vince Dunn becomes sick with drop withdrawal. When it comes out that he's lied on his paperwork and hasn't had a Dom for over a year, he has no choice but to accept being assigned to a Dom on the team or risk giving up hockey.✷ (TW: past abuse. BDSM AU)

love!!! i love bdsm au's so much!!! ive reread this fic multiple times :3

nicklas backstom / alexander ovechkin (washington capitals) you and me, drenched in green by xihale - word count: 17,710 ✷Nicky’s an omega with a heat problem. Ovi volunteers as tribute.✷ (ABO)

jamie drysdale / trevor zegras (anahiem ducks) caught up now by canary -word count: 20,261 ✷“I do want you to bite me,” Trevor corrected. “And I also want you to hit it raw.”✷ (ABO)

morgan barrson/josh morrissey (winnipeg jets) win some and lose some, baby by symphony7inAmajor - word count: 11,223 ✷“Morgan,” Josh says, his voice sharp and firm. There’s a glint in his eyes that Morgan doesn’t recognize. “Sit.” If Morgan thought his face was hot before, that’s nothing compared to the fire that scorches his cheeks now. Sit. Like—Like he’s a—✷ (canon setting)

this author has sm rlly good other fics as well!!

travis konecny/nolan patrick (flyers...i guess!) Someone Else's Solid Ground - Linsky - word count: 21,757 ✷Nolan’s body has never been his friend.✷ (canon setting)

matthew tkachuk / leon draisaitl / connor mcdavid i'll tell you when to stop - dog juice - word count: 39,640 ✷Matthew is too reckless to be responsible for his own heart. Fucking and falling for Leon? Stupid. Fucking and falling for Connor? Idiotic. Doing that one after the other without either Oiler knowing? Yeah. Matthew's fucked.✷ (canon setting)

rewired my brain a little ngl

gen - san jose sharks & washington capitals catch and release by McSpot - word count: 23,805 ✷If a player gets forced onto the opposing team's bench during play, that player officially becomes a member of their team. There's a whole system to catching players, with strategies determining who the prime targets are and the best way to catch them. Nobody expected Mario to be caught.✷ (canon AU setting)

how this fic doesnt have 100000 kudos and 1000000000 spin off fics i have no idea

sidney crosby / claude giroux unless you wanna come along by anonymous - word count: 8677 ✷"We beat you," Sid says, high on the sheer triumph of it. "Yeah, and how much of the game did you spend begging the refs for it?" Claude jeers, quiet and vicious. "Hardly a fucking win, when you've fucking acted like that, whining and bitching and moa—" Sid kisses him, cutting off the stream of venom.✷ (canon setting)

leon draisaitl / Artūrs Šilovs go ahead and try a little crazy on me by lagerlout - word count: 4062 ✷Leon huffs out a laugh before he can help himself. Goddamn, this fucking goalie is cute. He doesn’t know if he’s trying to be cute but he is.✷ (canon setting, winners room)

fic that makes me go YEEAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also now has a sequel which slaps

jonathan drouin / nathan mackinnon (colorado avalanche) but this is how it is by bruinss - word count: 103,314 ✷The universe gives, and the universe takes, and Jo is left at the end of ten years with a lot less than when he’d started them.✷ (BDSM AU, canon setting)

this author has a lot of really very very very good jo / nate fics i recommend every single one of them !!

sidney crosby / jaromir jagr (pittsburgh penguins) summer to your heart by deastar - word count: 200,575 ✷When it seals, Jaromír feels the old, familiar tug of a soulbond for the first time in years. It feels like having a dislocated joint reduced: a relief, and a sense that something missing has been replaced. But terribly painful at the same time. Sidney is curled up into Jaromír’s side, sinking fast toward sleep. Some impulse Jaromír can’t explain makes him ask his new bondmate, “You feel the bond?” “Mm-hmm.” Sidney’s eyes are closed – his eyelashes look very dark and soft. “How does it feel?” “Good,” Sidney exhales, and just before he drops off, Jaromír catches a psychic whisper of It feels like not being lonely. “Oh, kick me in the balls, why don’t you,” Jaromír says under his breath.✷ (soul / psychic bond, canon AU )

hrpf of all time. i think. in my opinion. there is also a sidgeno fic set in the same kind of AU by this author which is very good but this one...........oaugh....

okay thats it bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#hrpf fic #fic #nhl #sidgeno #mattdrai #im not tagging every ship good lord #anyway ! have fun reading !#if u dont already i rlly rec just reading random hockey fics for people u hve no idea abt . thats how u find the bangers

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whimsiwitchy · 2 months

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I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter five: i missed you

Pedro Pascal x Plus size F!reader

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing, use of the word fat, daddy kink (not really, but it’s kinda mentioned), sexual themes. warnings may change as the story progresses.

authors note: Hi everyone. I’ve been spending more time trying to add more detail in my writing, so I hope there’s a small improvement in this chapter. I also want to make the chapters lengthier in the future but we’ll see lol. There’s a tag list to the series now, any information about it is at the bottom of the chapter!

chapter summary: Pedro misses y/n and comes to bother her at work.

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Life moved on so quickly and there was never enough time to savor your favorite moments. Everything around you changed within a blink of an eye and you hadn't had a single second to just sit and think. You wanted nothing more than to be able to stop time for just a few minutes, just to process how dramatically your life had changed within such a short span of time.

The kiss you had shared with Pedro was nothing short of perfect, but after the high seemed to wear off, you became hyper aware of just how fucked this entire situation was. Whatever was brewing between the two of you was exciting, thrilling, and you wanted nothing more than to dive in head first- but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t scare the absolute shit out of you at the same time. Being around Pedro has felt so easy. You were still getting to know him and vice versa, but the attraction was there. He so clearly told you that he thought you were beautiful and enjoyed spending time with you. It kind of freaked you out at first, how fast everything was moving between you, but he was a man. He wasn’t some boy that was just using you to pass time, he was a real man who knew what he wanted and went for it. It ignited a flame in you that you wouldn’t be able to put out even if you tried.

As much as you were enjoying whatever was happening with Pedro, you couldn’t help shake the fact that you were technically lying to him. You tried to tell him the truth, you really had, but you got interrupted, and everything else happened so fast. You knew you would have to tell him the truth at some point, but you were terrified of how he would react to the news. You could only imagine what would happen when he finds out that the woman he had been flirting with and even kissed wasn’t actually 14 years younger but instead a whopping 24 years younger.. It wasn’t like you lied to him on purpose. It wasn’t even a lie you had started in the first place, it was a lie Angie constructed to get your career up and moving. People in the industry lie about their age all time, right?

It’s been an entire week since the kiss. The day after the kiss, Pedro had texted you, and the two of you had been texting consistently ever since. Three days after the kiss, you saw Pedro in person again. You had filmed the roller skating scene and went to get tacos after in celebration of filming your first ever professional movie scene. Neither of you had mentioned the kiss at all. Everything was normal between you guys. He was flirty, you were awkward, and life moved on.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when a makeup artist came to do some touch ups. Today you were on set to film a few solo shots, meaning Pedro wasn’t here. It was kind of weird, him not being here, everything you had done in this process had involved him somehow and you missed his presence. The makeup artist, Elizabeth, removed your previous eyeshadow and replaced it with a light orange color with a dramatic wing set in white eyeliner that matched your current costume perfectly. You were called to the studio at four in the morning and it was creeping up on five in the afternoon. You were exhausted. You didn’t have a lot to film, with most of the time being taken by costume and makeup changes between yourself and any extras in the scenes. Once Elizabeth was done, you made your way from the makeshift vanity over to the next set to film your final shots of the day.

You were released from set almost two hours later. You practically ran to the small trailer that sat just outside on the studio lot with your name plastered across the door. If you weren’t so tired, you probably would have shed a few tears at the sight of it. As soon as you walk in, you plop down in the ‘directors’ style chair that sits in front of a lighted mirror.

“Hey there hot stuff”

You almost jump out of the chair and let out a startled scream. You looked over to the right to see Pedro lounging on a small sofa that was connected to the wall of the trailer. He was wearing a pair of black lounge shorts, paired with a Los Angeles Lakers shirt that was their signature gold color. He wore a small smirk and you noticed that he was sporting a funky looking mustache instead of the full facial hair you had become accustomed to.

“Oh my fucking god P, you scared the shit out of me.” Both of your hands were gripping either side of the chair and you tried to slow your heart rate down. “How’d you even get in here dude, jesus christ.”

He lets out a small laugh. “I have my ways sweetheart. How did filming go?”

“It was fine. I’m fucking drained though.” Your hands finally relax and you lean back into the chair in a casual manner.

“Yea it can be that way sometimes. Just wait until you're back on set with me. I’ll make sure you aren’t bored.” He winks. Your mind wanders for a moment before changing the subject.

“When did you get the porn stache?” You laugh and point to his upper lip.

“Oh this old thing? They shaved it a few days ago when I started filming more.” He runs one hand across his slightly stubbled jaw.

“It suits you.” You say with a hum.

He stays quiet for a moment and you look at him. He sits up straight on the couch, spreading his legs apart slightly. “Come here sweetheart.” He says while reaching out for you. You take a few steps towards him and he's grabbing your hands.

“I missed you.” He whispers while pulling you to stand in between the gap of his thighs. You weren’t entirely sure what he meant by that. Did he miss being around you? Did he miss kissing you? It really didn’t matter, because you missed him too, so you told him.

“I missed you too.” you admit outloud.

His hands let go of yours and instead make their way to your waist. He pulls you forward gently.

“I want you to sit on my lap, can you do that for me baby?”

Baby.

What you had with Pedro was unique. There wasn’t any discussion on what either of you had felt, but the night he kissed you, it created an unspoken agreement of sorts- there was a spark and you both weren’t afraid to explore it.

“P, I can’t. I’ll crush you.” He gives you a look of disapprovement. You were always too aware of your weight in intimacy. Knowing that you were heavier than what most guys were used to, made you avoid any situation that involved any weight being placed on another person.

“Just come straddle me baby, use your knees for support if you’re that worried about it okay? I just wanna feel you sweetheart, we can stop if you ever feel uncomfortable. Does that sound okay?” He’s rubbing from your waist, down to your haps, and back up again. It’s comforting and you know that you can trust him- you know that he isn’t going to make fun of you.

You give him a nod and slowly lower yourself to straddle him, knees touching the couch on either side of his legs, holding yourself up slightly.. He places one hand on each of your thighs, slightly digging into them.

“Atta girl.” he says, his voice slightly deeper. A shiver runs down your spine and the gravel of his voice gives you the confidence to slide yourself down further and apply more weight onto his lap.

“You know, I've been aching to kiss you again.” He looks up and trains his eyes to yours.

“Then do it.” You say, your voice small.

He puts his hands around your waist, positioning his hands right above your ass and pulls you forward. He leans up towards you and you lean down meeting his lips halfway. Your lips start moving against him in a comfortable rhythm. The kiss starts off slow and innocent, both of you savoring the feeling that you both had been craving. His grunts and his hands fall lower fully cupping each ass cheek, giving them both a tight squeeze. You let out a small gasp to which he takes as an invitation to sneak his tongue into your mouth. This snaps you into reality and you pull back for a moment.

“Taylor, my uh hairstylist, is coming by soon to take the wig off.” You said in a breathy voice.

“She’ll knock.” He says pulling you back into him, his tongue immediately darting into your mouth.

Your tongues are dancing together, neither one of you trying to control the other. Pedro uses his grip on your ass to roll your hips forward and you can feel that he’s hard underneath his criminally thin shorts. You could feel his full length graze across your pussy, causing you to break the kiss and jolt your head back in a surprised moan. He keeps rolling your hips onto him and reaches forward to attach his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses.

A knock on the door makes both of you freeze. You jump out of Pedro’s lap and rush back to the makeup chair. You fix the wig slightly and look over at Pedro as he adjusts himself before going back into the same lounging position he held when you had first noticed him. The door opens slightly and Taylor announces herself before entering. “Sorry it took so long. There was a change in how they want your hair for your sex scene coming up.” You face flushes and she begins to take the wig off. Ignoring Pedro’s presence, the two of you hold a small conversation until she finishes up and excuses herself.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“I need to get this costume off. Can you turn around or something while I change real quick?” You say as you grab the black and white plaid pajama pants and black hoodie you showed up in. He turns around and you get dressed quickly, letting him know when he could look again. You walk across the trailer and bend over to search your tote bag for your micellar water and cotton pads to remove your makeup.

“You look so good in these pants baby.” Pedro grabs both sides of your hips and presses himself against your ass. You stand up and he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “You wanna come over to my place?” You can’t help but laugh.

“Are you always this fuckboyish when you’re horny?” You say, finally being able to be the one who teased him and not the other way around.

“Only for you baby.” He winks and lets out a laugh.

The car ride to his place was quiet. When you agreed to come over, he insisted that he could drive you to his place and would drive you home. You didn’t fight back much, not even thinking about your car that still sat in the studio parking lot. You had your arm propped up on the center console with your hand supporting your chin, staring at Pedro. His hand was placed on your thigh, his thumb moving up and down slightly tickling you.

You couldn’t help but admire him. Pedro was truly one of the most handsome men you had ever come across. He was so…beefy. His legs looks so good in those shorts and the way his shirt stretched around the top of his arm was torture. You were so fucking horny it was crazy. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of Pedro and feel his length graze against you again. You weren’t sure exactly what Pedro had planned when he asked you to come over but you were hoping it involved more kissing. You really liked kissing him.

The car comes to a stop and you notice that he’s pulling into a garage. When you asked him where he lived before, he had mentioned that he had a small place but this house was far from small. It wasn’t a huge mansion but it was a respectable size, way bigger than your own apartment. When you open your car door, Pedro is already walking over to your side and offering his hand, which you take happily. He closes the garage door, locks the car, and leads you into a small mudroom. He removes his shoes, you follow, and the two of you walk down a small hallway into a living room.

The room was pretty normal. There was a brown ‘L’ shaped couch along the back wall accompanied by a matching brown recliner to the right of the room. On the opposite wall of the couch, there was a giant flat screen attached to the wall with a dark wooden entertainment stand underneath that was littered with random items. He had a few pictures scattered across the walls and a small display case of awards he had won.

He sits on the couch and he pulls you down to straddle his lap again. This time it was much more innocent than the first. He has his arms lazily wrapped around you and you have your arms around his neck, resting your head on the right one.

“Your house is so nice P. It’s so you.” You say into his cheek.

He lets out a light chuckle and you feel the vibration from his chest on yours. “Thank you sweetheart.” You hum in response.

“Are you ready for our intimacy coaching?” He asks genuinely.

“Uh, yea I think so. I’m a little nervous though.” You take a moment to think about just how much sex Pedro’s character is having in this movie. He has to have intimacy training and intimacy scenes with eleven other women. You know it’s just his job, but you can’t help the tinge of jealousy that you feel in your chest. “Have you started any of your other ones yet?” You're hoping he couldn’t hear the slight irritation in your voice.

“Yea. I finished all the training and started filming with some of the girls already.” He says nonchalantly.

“Oh…that’s cool.” You know for sure he could hear the staggering in your voice this time. You’re trying really hard to keep a professional, but what both of you have done behind closed doors is far from professional. He turns his head to look down at you.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks with concern and you realize from the tension in your lips that you have a very noticeable pout on your face.

“It’s nothing.. ‘s stupid.” You lower your head to hide your face.

“‘s not stupid if it’s got you all pouty like that sweet girl.” He’s rubbing the back of your head so gently, it could put you right to sleep.

“It’s really stupid P…” You raise your head to look at him. “.. just the thought of you being that close and intimate with other women makes me feel a little jealous . Like I know it’s your job and all but I’m starting to really like you and I don’t-”

“You like me?” He’s smiling from ear to ear and you could feel the heat rising to your face, not realizing you had said it outloud.

“I mean yea P. You’re a total catch, what’s not to like…” You trail off, trying your best not to shy away from this moment, from him.

“I like you too Y/n.” His smile is still big. You can feel your tummy erupt.

“I need you to really promise me that you like me, okay? I really don’t want to get hurt by you.” You’re holding your pinky up, just like the day you had met him.

“I promise baby.” He locks his pinky with yours and gives your hand a tender kiss.

You lay your head back down and you both accept the silence around you, living in the moment of the confessions made. Last time you checked the clock, it was ten at night. It was late and Pedro’s lap was far too comfy for you to care about going home tonight. Your head was feeling heavy and you were slipping into a delirious state due to your lack of sleep after a long day of working.

“You know, when my agent first told me that you were the lead when I auditioned, I had no idea who you were.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

“Thanks baby, that really knocks a few notches off my ego.” He laughs and that slight rumble from his chest is intoxicating. You could see the rise of his left cheek from where your head still laid on your arm that was still draped over his shoulders. You liked making him smile. He had such a nice smile.

“Hm, maybe that’s why the universe brought me to you, to humble you.” Another soft chuckle leaves his mouth. You also loved making him laugh- it was a sound you were glad to have the pleasure of hearing.

“Anyways, that’s not the point. After I met you at the audition, I may or may not have looked you up.” You don’t know why you’re telling him this.

“Did you find anything interesting?” He turns his head to look down at you, his eyebrow slightly raised, a cocky smirk present. His right hand starts to caress your back slowly.

“Eh not really… I did watch your vanity fair lie detector test though.” You purposely leave out how many times you rewatched the first 20 seconds of the video, just to hear his laugh.

“Oh yea? What did you think?” He’s still looking at you but there's a different look on his face this time, one you haven’t seen before.

“You look really good in pink.” Your lips turn up to give him a small smile as you think about your next words. “So, uh, daddy’s a state of mind huh?” His hand stops rubbing your back and he turns his head abruptly, looking in the other direction. You burst into laughter at his reaction. “I’m just teasing, come here.” You tug on his right shoulder trying to get him to look at you again but he doesn’t budge. Setting your hands on his shoulders for support, you move yourself to sit straight up, still straddling his lap. Pedro turns his head to look at you and your hands grab his face- you can feel a slight warmth from the blush that was there just moments before.

“I forgot all about that, it’s so embarrassing…” He leans his head down slightly causing his cheeks to squish in your hands.

“‘s not embarrassing, it was really fucking funny, but not embarrassing.” He doesn’t budge. “You can be my daddy.” You say in a teasing matter. His head jolts up causing you to drop your hands back down to his shoulder. His eyes were wide and you could’ve sworn you felt movement near the inner corner of your thigh that just so happens to be right next to his-

“Do you want me to drive you home baby, it’s..” He trails off to grab his phone to check the time. “Shit.. it’s almost 3am.” He sits his phone back down

“Why’d you change the subject? You don’t wanna be my daddy?” You really wanted to get a reaction out of him. You’re staring deep into his eyes and you feel that slight press against your thigh again.

“You can’t just say stuff like that sweet girl…” His hands trail down your back, past your ass, and he wiggles them just under your thighs. Before you even realize what’s happening, Pedro is standing up, arms hooked under your legs. You throw your arms around his neck.

“Pedro put me down please.” You were starting to panic. You’d never had someone even attempt to pick you up and the thought of how heavy you might be in his arms right now is stressing you the fuck out. He starts walking but you can’t see where, nothing but the fading living room in your sight. “P, please. I’m too heavy, please just put me down.” He ignores your pleas. Pedro stops walking for a moment and you hear what you assume is a door clicking open before he continues to walk again.

“Here sweet girl.” He’s setting you down on the edge of a king sized bed. “I’m not really up to date on any of the new dating rules or anything but um if you wanted, you could stay here tonight.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck and he seems nervous. Your heart burst into flames.

Dating

“We’re dating?” You’re looking at him with a big smile.

“Uh yea, I mean uh, only if you want to. I’d love to take you out sometime, on a proper date and everything.” He’s looking at the floor.

You hop off the bed and wrap your arms around him in a big hug, to which he returns, leaving light kisses on your head.

“I’d love to stay tonight.”

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Thank you for reading <3

next chapter

series tag list: @nuetralcolorsenthusiast @kungfucapslock

*If you wish to be added to the tag list, leave a comment on this post letting me know! <3

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ficthots · 1 year

Text

Shotgun

A/N: Okay, another fic that has been 95% completed and I finally got around to wrapping up. PR relationship, drunken wedding, enemies to lovers, all the good stuff. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ content only. DNI if under 18. Smut.

Word Count: 8k+

Strengths and weaknesses make us who we are. They are the foundation of our entire beings and personalities. Concocting in a fashion that swirls around us and presents us to the outside world. Special groups can become world class athletes while others thrive in the arts, presenting world altering pieces to the public. Niche groups of writers can put pen to paper in ways never imagined before, the opposite can be said of mathematicians. Some individuals are wonderful public speakers.

Take your childhood best friend Jake for example. The man thrives on the attention when it settles to him. Putting his best self forward when in the presence of other people Yet, he still utterly despises ninety-nine percent of the general population. It’s why you two got along so well.

Also why you and his twin did not.

Your strengths? Well, they lie in solo activities. Anything that needs to be completed alone, you thrived in. Preferring not to work with others unless you absolutely had to. Even then, you weren’t going to be happy doing it. An intellectual, not an artistic bone in your body. Not understanding how he and his brothers can create literal magic in their minds and then go and perform for thousands of people.

Not being a people person was one of the main key characteristics of your personality. You had your small inner circle and that was more than enough for you. Even better that they spent most of their time away from you touring.

If you were together all the time, it would make the time spent together less exciting. Less meaningful. Sure, some people would say it was you being shy and to yourself, but you knew that wasn’t really it.

Okay, maybe just a bit.

Who could blame you though? Being in the public eye like your closest friends sounded like a nightmare. Not being able to keep any information about your private life hidden because it seemed as though someone was always watching. It sounded like hell. It was hell.

That was the life of being a celebrity though. Which is also why you strayed as far away from it as possible. Even when you went out to lunch with Jake when he was in town, it was not a rare occurrence for him to be stopped on the street for a picture or something of the like. Keeping your distance and watching from over his shoulder some few yards away was where you were most comfortable in situations like that.

He would then come back to you, exasperated because of the constant stopping for fans. Jake wasn’t as annoyed with it as he let on to believe, secretly loving when he was approached by adoring fans showering him in praise. It always earned an eye roll from you. Such an attention whore.

Just not to the extent of his twin. Josh craved it. There was hardly ever a time when he wasn’t ecstatic to discuss the intense life he led on a daily basis of being adored by fans and the like. Not to mention the annoying personality trait of needing to be best friends with any individual he was an acquaintance with.

His pursuit of reaching that level with you had been nonstop since high school when you and Jake had hit it off. It was thoroughly exhausting fighting the man as often as you had to, but it was the only way to get him to leave you alone.

He loved it. Finding it hysterical how truly annoyed you were by his sheer presence. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely aware of the actual reason why you didn’t want to be around him. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t lost sleep over it more than once.

Thinking it was just a silly game, not comprehending that you truly wanted nothing to do with him. It was frustrating. Dealing with this since high school and you truly believed he knew the main reason why, but opted to ignore it for the sake of not self reflecting. Jake on the other hand, similar to his familiar counterpart, could always guarantee a chuckle from your interactions.

Never getting into full arguments, but you had been known to raise your voice at him on a few occasions when he refused to leave your personal bubble. It was borderline anxiety inducing. Always having a few Xanax on hand for when you knew you would be having to spend more time than necessary with the boy.

Like on vacation.

Jake had invited you as soon as they had decided where they were going to be taking a weekend trip to. Given you had never been to Las Vegas, you thought it was going to be an absolute blast. Staying at an incredible resort, relaxing by the pool, occasional gambling whilst enjoying the complimentary drinks. I mean, in what world would someone turn that down?

You seriously considered it once you heard that Josh was going to be in attendance. Being trapped on a plane with him, having to do every vacation activity together, getting little to no break from the 24/7 Josh show. Way to ruin a trip.

Given how desperately you did need this getaway, biting your tongue and accepting the fact that the thorn in your side was going to be even closer than normal was what you were just going to have to deal with despite the bile burning the back of your throat at just the thought of it.

Knowing that you would at least have the reprieve of the flight out to Nevada was adding a little bounce to your step. Until he plopped himself down in the seat directly next to yours with a loud sigh echoing in the shell of your ear. Without a moment of hesitation you placed your earphones in, not wanting to give him a chance to engage, or attempt to engage, in conversation with you.

It didn’t last long. He grabbed the left one from your ear much to your dismay, giving a large grin. “Everyone got to pick one activity for the weekend. What’s yours?” Snatching the item from his fingertips and placing it back where it should’ve been the entire time, you sighed.

“Pool morning.” His eyes lit up, going to speak again, but luckily the flight attendants began their aisle explanation of rules and regulations. Smirking at the interruption, you let your head recline back onto the ridiculously uncomfortable headrest, your eyes slipped shut.

You couldn’t be one hundred percent certain of how long your eyes were closed, but it felt like two minutes later when he nudged you to gather your attention on him. A large exhale left your nose, still trying to ignore him. It only worked for so long until he began incessantly tapping your shoulder.

“What? What? What could you possibly want right now, Joshua?” You snapped, staring him dead in the eyes, but he wasn’t phased in the least by your outburst. Holding up a ziplock bag to you, he offered another large smirk. “Trail Mix?”

Josh had set himself a personal goal for the trip. By the time the wheels were up on the way home, you two were going to be fast friends. Deciding on that after having a group dinner together one night and you did everything in your power to avoid him. Whilst he and Jake chatted in his kitchen he racked his brain at the possibilities.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jake hummed in response, eyes stuck to his screen. “Why does buzz not like me?” Jake’s eyes briefly glanced at his spitting image and sighed. “Because you’re you.” Josh let the words simmer for just a brief moment.

Before giving a response, Jake continued. “It’s just a lot for her to handle. You’re on constantly and it drives her up the wall. You know how she is. More reserved than any of us and you're just elevated by ten.” Josh’s brow furrowed, leaning against the counter, shaking his head.

“Yeah no, I don’t think that’s it.” Jake’s hands shot up, deserting his task of trying to get Josh to understand why his best friend did not adore his twin like every other individual under the sun. He was going to get her to be friends, even if it was the last thing he did.

A blinding migraine is what woke you up. That and the feeling of someone's arm wrapped around your bare waist.

Blinking your eyes open slowly, you could feel whoever was next to you, breathing deep and even into the crook of your neck. The disheveled hair was tickling your cheek and jaw, hand twitching every so often as he slept.

When he began to feel you stirring, he himself was slow to get up as well. Having no clue if this person was a complete stranger or if you happened to know them pretty well, had you beyond nervous to turn around and look.

Then it hit you. Patchouli.

Eyes blowing wide open, you turned your head to see him in the same position as you. Wide eyed, shock, and confusion painted across his face. Entirely sure he was mirroring your expression as well.

Neither of you said a word to one another as you laid there. Eventually, you pulled your gaze away from him and chose to stare at the ceiling instead. “Buzz?” He finally broke the uncomfortable silence drenching the room.

Making the wrong decision to shake your head, you groaned, stilling your skull and attempting to stop the room from spinning further than it already was. “No, no. Don’t say a word.” You seethed out between gritted teeth.

He took in a sharp breath, fingers laced soundly over his comforter covered torso. His phone vibrated on the nightstand and when he grabbed it, he only showed you the message from Sam. They were all downstairs waiting on you both to join them for breakfast.

Silently getting dressed, you stepped out of the restroom to see Josh waiting patiently for you. “We do not speak a word of this. To anyone. You understand me?” His lips were pulled between his teeth, but he nodded at you. “Of course, absolutely.”

As you two took your seats at the table, all eyes were glued to you both. Trying to play it off, you pointed to the pitcher of orange juice sitting on the other end of the table by Josh. He handed it off to you, but everyone's attention had yet to leave you both.

Finally giving in, you stared down Jake. “What? What’s wrong?” His chin rested on the backs of his hands, a small knowing smirk gracing his lips, sunglasses blocking his hungover eyes. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

Shrugging, your brow furrowed at his words. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened?” Sam snorted, sipping his coffee before responding. “Josh invited us all to watch,” your head snapped to the boy next to you, shooting daggers at him.

“You fucking pervert,” Josh’s cheeks burned crimson red at the response bit out at him. Danny finally spoke up through a bite of toast. “Like we weren’t going to watch our best friends get married.”

You perked up in his direction, looking at the paired off couples seated around the table. “Oh my god, who got married?” Josh was excited to hear the news himself. Jita’s confused gaze met your enthused one as she spoke.

“Uh, you two?” Eyes falling down to the table, you and Josh gasped at the same time, the memory slamming into you. Your hands covered your mouth as it hung wide open, staring at the man in pure shock. Slowly shaking your head, you stuttered over your words. “No-no, ther-there’s no way.”

Josh’s head fell back, swallowing thickly as his brothers erupted in laughter around the table. “How did they let that happen when we were so drunk?” You whispered out, staring at Jake for answers. He shrugged, “That’s the way most people get married, buzz.”

Letting your head fall into your hands, Josh finally spoke. “It’s fine, we’ll get it annulled and it’ll be like nothing even happened.” Nodding at his words, you shoved his phone into his hands from the resting place it had been on the table. “Now. Do it now.”

Standing from the table, he excused himself as he dialed his lawyer's number. Deciding that it was probably best to check your own phone for any inkling as to what had gone on the previous night, you checked what was buried in your purse. The screen was continuously lighting up with notifications from Instagram, Twitter, any and all social media known to man.

“Oh-oh my god,” you breathed out. Slowly lifting your head and looking at the youngest brother, you calmly asked him a question. “Samuel?” He huffed in response, spreading jam onto his toast. “Did you post the wedding on your Instagram last night?” Dropping his butter knife to the table with a loud clink echoing, everyone immediately took to Instagram.

A chorus of oh no’s, fuck’s, and holy shits were spoken by all of the table. Josh sat back in his seat and turned towards you. “There’s a problem,” you nodded, eyes never leaving Sam. “Oh, trust me, we’re well aware.” He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Oh great, I don’t have to be the one to tell you.” Sam bit into a piece of muffin, shooting you a wink. “Happy honeymoon!” His attempt to release the tension that hung heavy on the group did not work as he had hoped.

The remainder of the trip you spent as much time away from Josh as possible, absolutely mortified about the circumstances and what had gone on. The only interaction you had with him was right after brunch when he told you his lawyer was working on it and he had made their manager aware of what was going on.

Otherwise, you had kept your distance like Josh was a plague. It hadn’t been too bad afterwards. You spent the rest of the time relaxing by the pool, enjoying great food, and before you knew it you were on the flight back home.

To face reality.

As you walked to your car, his voice echoed through the parking garage to gather your attention. Only stopping because you had to, you turned to face him and saw him jogging towards you. “So, uh, my lawyer wants to meet with us tomorrow morning. Manager will be there, too.”

Nodding in agreement, you didn’t say anything else as you loaded your luggage into your car and then yourself. He didn’t try to speak more, knowing how truly furious you were with him for this.

Knowing that this now being public information was going to make the situation that much worse to deal with. Not like it would have been if this was a normal person, no, you had to deal with the ramifications of being black out drunk and marrying a celebrity.

Awesome.

When you arrived at his home the next morning, you let yourself in, seeing a man dressed in a suit standing in his living room and the man you knew as their manager quietly chit chatting with Josh. He only offered a nervous, sheepish smile to you as you walked in and sat on his sofa.

“Alright, so what do we need to do? Sign some papers?” You spoke out first, grabbing a pen from your purse and looking at everyone expectantly. They were all nervous and you couldn’t figure out why.

The boy's manager cleared his throat and called you by your name, but you shook your head, offering your nickname instead. No one ever used your legal name, it was odd to even hear it spoken out. “Buzz, then. So, unfortunately, this is going to be a bit more,” he paused, trying to find the magic word, "more complicated than we originally assumed.”

Not responding, you only blinked slowly at him. Acknowledging the lawyer to step forward and speak, your head inclined towards him. “The annulment itself is not what complicates matters. It should only be a few months until everything is squared away based on the legal proceedings. What does make things sticky is the social aspect of this.”

His hands waved to you both, but you refused to look at Josh. He could feel your energy humming with pure anger at what was being said to you. His manager spoke up once more. “Yes, so, Sam posting this definitely made it more difficult. In order for you both to get out of this as unscathed as possible, we all discussed the options.”

Your face contorted in confusion. “Excuse me?” Everyone’s eyes settled on you. “I was not consulted for any of this. So when you say we all discussed the options, no we didn’t.” Josh’s wide eyed gaze looked at the two men standing, blankly staring at you.

Jaw setting in annoyance, you spoke again. “I don’t understand how there can be options in the first place. We get it annulled and call it a day. Wipe our hands of it. That’s the option here.” Josh cleared his throat, turning to face you from his seat.

“Buzz, listen. It affects our image. It’s one thing to actually be married, but for us to have gotten drunk in Vegas and then got married, and within seventy-two hours to get it annulled. That’s so bad,” you scoffed at him, but before you could speak they all chimed in.

“It puts a very bad image on Josh. We’re just trying to get damage control done right now. All we’re suggesting is that for the next few months, until the annulment is officially granted, you two continue to put on a facade of sorts to the public that you two are actually together.”

Unbelievable.

“And what about me?” You breathed out, staring at these men like the fucking vultures they were. His manager shrugged with a laugh. “You get to date Josh Kiszka for a few months. This will boost your image too!”

Standing up from your seat, you exploded on them. “Well, I’m not fucking dating Josh Kiszka! This is the problem with you, Josh! It’s all about you and your image. Doesn’t matter who else's life you screw up along the way as long as your image remains clean. Go fuck yourself. Let me know when I need to sign the papers.”

Storming out of his house, when you got to your car, you sat there in silence, trying to catch your breath. A scream left your throat as you continuously hit your steering wheel over and over. Admittedly, you had done some incredibly stupid things in your time, but nothing to this magnitude. No, this was truly life altering stupidity that put you here.

And you did it with the worst human imaginable. You hated yourself for letting this happen. This wasn’t like you. Getting married on a bender in Vegas? Nope. Bets were always going to be on Sam to do something like this. You? Not in a million years. With Josh? Not even in the realm of possibilities.

Yet, here you were.

Sitting in your apartment, you drowned your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, watching Bridgerton as you sobbed about the utter mess you were in. Josh had been blowing up your phone all day, honestly you were surprised he hadn’t shown up at your door.

Ah, spoke too soon, you thought as a rumbling of knuckles on your front door drew your attention. Sniffling, you wiped your face with a stray tissue, praying it wasn’t too dirty, before walking to the door.

“I’m not in the mood right now, Josh.” Sighing as you took in the sight of who was at your door, you were overjoyed to see someone else standing there. “Well, damn good thing I’m not him then, huh?” You didn’t hesitate, throwing yourself into Jake’s embrace, continuously sobbing into his shirt.

His hands rubbed your back with a sad sigh, leading you back in towards your sofa. Sniffling as he grabbed a tissue, he wiped your tear stained cheeks that were positively swollen from the day spent in absolute waterworks. “What’s up, buzz?”

Your hands hit your thighs in exasperation, shrugging as more tears welled up. “They told me I have to date Josh until the annulment is done. I don’t want to do that, Jake.” Chin wobbling, he wiped at your falling tears again, nodding in understandment.

“I’m so stupid! How did this even happen?” He handed you the box of tissues before speaking. “First of all, you’re not stupid. You were drunk beyond belief, we all were. Second, who said you have to date Josh?” Eyes staring at the crumpled fabric in your hands, the sadness that sat on your shoulders sank further in.

“Your manager. The lawyer. Josh. They said it was to protect his image. That a drunk Vegas wedding doesn’t look good as is and then getting it annulled or having the paperwork filed a few days after is even worse. Like, they didn’t even consider me!” Your body shook harder as more tears fell, sobs escaping your throat as you laid on Jake.

A deep sigh rumbled in his chest, hand smoothing your hair down. “You’re gonna hate my response then.” Pulling back from his embrace, you shot daggers at him. “You want me to do it, too? Seriously, Jake? You know why I don’t want to be associated with him. I’m not doing it!”

His hands went up in defeat, but raked through his hair as he watched you move to the kitchen then back to the room in a nervous pace. “Buzz, listen. It’s not just Josh that’s affected. Honestly, if it was I would 100% be on your side and let you do what you wanted to do. I’m worried about you,” your brow furrowed at his words.

“Being associated with someone like us is not easy. You should see the toll it takes on Jita sometimes. It’s rough and brutal,” you cut him off, his words only aiding your reasoning. “Exactly! That’s one of the main reasons,” he didn’t let you continue, speaking over you and grabbing your hands to bring you back to sit with him.

His thumbs brushed over the skin on your wrist. “It’ll be so much worse if the annulment news gets out this quickly after what happened. Buzz, your life will be decimated. It will be horrible. It will affect your daily life, your work, everything. I want you to do this so that way it’s more sound when it does happen. Otherwise,” he shook his head as he trailed off.

With a groan, you flung yourself back onto the couch. You had never hated life more than you did right then. Grabbing your cell phone, you sent Josh a message only sending a Fine, as Jake patted your leg. “Good girl.” You kicked him in response.

A carefully drawn plan was created by everyone. Keeping public appearances at a minimum, their manager stated that only a few were necessary in the amount of time needed for it to be legally done. However, what was necessary was social media posts.

Since your…wedding, had been so publicly broadcasted, making an appearance on his social media whether by posts or stories was absolutely necessary according to them. The goal was to keep actual posts minimal, but stories more often. Which also meant that you and Josh were going to have to be spending more time together than you ever had before.

You were dreading it to put it lightly. In fact, you only wanted to crawl under your bed and hide for the rest of eternity. All you could think about was why this had to happen with him. Why not Danny? You loved Danny! Sweetest human being known to man.

Instead, you were legally bound to the person you despise most. Why must the universe laugh in your face like this? You believed you were a fairly decent person, so why you? It was that question that was on an ever repeat in your mind as you sat at a restaurant you couldn’t even afford to look through the window at.

The two of you were sitting in dreadfully uncomfortable silence. A fake engagement ring sitting on your left hand, a band on his. Waiter already having come and taken both of your orders, you didn’t know what else to do at the moment. Nibbling on a skinny breadstick, your eyes scanned the scenery around you.

People that would never give you the time of day if they were to spot you on the street filled the tables around you both. Occasional glances from the younger crowd falling over you two made you shift in your seat.

Taking notice of wandering eyes himself, he reached his hand out across the linen covered table, grabbing your hand with his. Speaking through a smile, your look of disgust made him laugh. “Can you at least try and make it look like we’re having fun? We’re married and people are looking, buzz.”

Forcing a grin onto your face, you squeezed his fingers, a hiss escaping from his teeth as he pulled his hand back. “You’re right, I am having fun!” Rolling his eyes, he expelled air from his ballooned cheeks.

“So what do you do for work, again?” He asked. You stared him down, opinion of him sinking further. “I’m an archivist. Do you know what that is?” Your smug tone had his face falling, mocking you. “Yes, I know what an archivist is. Asshole,” he mumbled, playing with the straw in his drink.

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat, eyeing you from across the table. “What’s your deal with me? Why don’t you like me? Everyone likes me. I’m Josh!” Elbows landing on the table with a clatter of plates and glasses, you began listing the reasons on your fingers.

“You’re selfish, snobby, too energetic, think you’re better than everyone else, an attention whore,” he cut you off, arms crossing over his chest. “Alright, alright, alright. I get it. But I’ll have you know I’m not any of those things.”

Your eyebrows shot up your face. “Really?” He nodded, a smirk tugging at his full lips. “Of course! There’s so much more to me.” Snorting, you pointed at the table. “If you’re not a snob or selfish then why would you bring me here? I don’t even like fish! I’m allergic to shellfish. I literally ordered the only thing that didn’t contain any fish. A fucking salad, Josh. I don’t like salad.”

Continuing with your rant, he listened to every word you said. “Not to mention that a place like this,” you waved your hands around, “is the last place I would ever want to come to. I’m more of a Chili’s girl,” his nose scrunched up in disgust. “You see! This isn’t going to work, Josh.” Catching your head in your hand, he tried to ease your spiraling mind.

“Okay, okay. I promise that next time we will go somewhere you want. I just figured that this was a good spot to get noticed and that is working. Three different people have taken pictures which I am almost 100% certain are already circling Twitter.” Your face showed your confusion because you hadn’t noticed that at all.

“I promise, next time, we will go somewhere or do something you want. Scouts honor,” he held his hand up in the salute, earning a tired laugh from you. “Ah, see! We’re already making progress. You laughed at my joke.”

Smile falling, the waiter appeared with your food right then. “Actually, I was laughing at you. Not at your joke.” He shrugged, digging into the salmon on his plate. “Still counts.”

Awkward small talk consumed the remainder of the evening. Walking to your own car that had been parked a few blocks away from the restaurant, Josh stood behind you, ensuring you got to your car safely.

Not offering a parting word, you got in your car, but Josh tapped on your window, a smile on his lips. Rolling it down, but only a crack, you tilted your head towards it. “What?” He placed a sloppy kiss on the glass, much to your dismay, but laughed right after.

“I had a great time with you, buzz. Make sure you’re at my home this weekend to make an appearance in a social media story!” He called out as you reversed out of your spot, driving off with your middle finger extended in his direction.

You weren’t a firm believer in the idea about people changing. People are the way they are, especially once in adulthood. The way someone acts by the time they’re in their early twenties, in your experience anyways, was how the person was meant to be. Which is why you were entirely confused about why Josh was growing on you.

After spending more than a few evenings at his home to appear in his stories or Instagram posts, even making it into a TikTok, you were growing more comfortable around him. Even opting to hang out without the need for posting purposes. You hadn’t even given a second thought to why you were okay with it.

It honestly started after your suggested publicity date. After having a night out at a fancy dinner, you decided to do something a tad more laid back for your date choice. However, when you realized that they wanted you to be seen out in public together, it dawned on you what to do.

The boys were still on tour, so like any normal “girlfriend” or “wife”, you flew out to spend some real good quality time with your partner. He even went the extra mile to pick you up from the airport. Your decision to keep him in the dark of what your planned outing entailed was driving him insane.

It is also why he was standing in the happiest place on earth with the largest scowl on his face you had ever seen. With your Minnie Mouse ears adorned, Mickey Mouse t-shirt, and Nuimo sticking out of your cross body bag, you were beaming from ear to ear. Walking up to Josh, you stood directly in front of him, placing a pair of ears on the frowning boy.

“No, no. Absolutely not.” Giggles fell from your parted lips as he took them off with a loud sigh. “Okay, Mr. Grumpy, what would you like to do first? Space Mountain or Autopia? I think we should do Autopia because it’s a car perfect for your frame and one you might actually be able to reach the pedals in.”

He mocked a fake laugh, walking in the direction of Space Mountain. Josh could try all he wanted to feign irritation with where you two had landed for your date, but by mid-afternoon, he was smiling more often than not.

Even indulging in a churro although it was against his dietary restrictions. You two were sitting in New Orleans Square, splitting a box of popcorn, giving your feet a rest after the incredibly long day, but your mood and spirits had never been so high around him before.

Laughter and smiles had been a regular throughout the course of the day, nearly riding every ride you could. Josh was grinning like a child after having indulged himself all day. “I can’t believe you actually bought the picture from Splash Mountain. It’s so dumb!” You spoke through laughs.

Whipping the picture out, you were cowering over, blocking yourself from the water, face contorted in fear while Josh had both hands up, the biggest smile you’d ever seen as he yelled out in excitement. As he put more popcorn in his mouth, his eyes narrowed at you.

“Why’d you pick here?” Smirking, you sipped from your novelty alien sipper cup. “For starters, I knew you’d be pissed when we walked in.” He shrugged in agreement, a light tint falling on his cheeks. “But I also knew that you would warm up after a few rides and snacks. Almost everyone does. And I picked somewhere where I knew we would be spotted.”

Sliding your phone across the tabletop, a photo of you and Josh on the teacups was circling the Twittersphere. “I think I’m starting to get the celebrity appearance thing.” Taking a bite of your salty treat, Josh eyed you in surprise.

“Well, look at you.” His gaze settles on you for just a beat too long, causing you to fidget in your seat. Looking back at your phone to get away from the uncomfortable feeling worming its way in your stomach, you spoke out. “C’mon, we have a lighting lane for Indiana Jones.”

Josh stared after you as you stood and began walking in the direction of the ride. His plan was working.

It was pissing you off to no end. You didn’t want to like Josh or be friends with him. Not since his fuck up in high school that was the root cause of all of this. So why was he growing on you?

Refusing to fall for the sweet Josh act, which you were beginning to doubt was an act at all, after your Disney day, you decided to keep contact and visits extremely limited. Only showing up at his home to appear in a quick story and then immediately leaving. Josh wasn’t a fan of this sudden change either.

Becoming downtrodden each time you rushed to leave his home after making brief appearances. Keeping conversations to a minimum. When you received a text from Josh saying one of your final dates was ready to take place, you were dreading spending an evening with him. Not excited about the confusing feelings that were happening.

Yet, here you were at a concert for the boys. Given you were as good of friends with Jake as you were, most people figured that you were constantly at concerts. Not really. Actually, you had only really seen them perform a handful of times. Now that you and Josh were married?

Of course the perfect opportunity for a sighting was going to be at a concert, supporting your fake spouse. Okay, not entirely fake because the marriage itself was technically real, but whatever. Standing off to the side of the stage, you smiled warmly at them putting their best efforts into their show.

It was hard not to notice the wandering eyes of fans falling to you and realization dawning on the crowd who you really were. Animosity towards you hadn’t been too much to deal with. Sure, there were people who truly didn’t comprehend how you and Josh were together. There had never been a mention of you before, Jake working overtime to ensure that through your friendship, and now all of a sudden this random woman is married to Josh?

Bonkers.

As their encore wrapped up, once Jake stepped off stage, you jumped in excitement, offering your happy praises of how well the show had gone tonight. Walking off with Jake, you halted as their manager’s wide eyes observed you, subtly nodding his head in the direction of who you should have been walking with.

Jake offered you a knowing smile, continuing towards his dressing room as you waited for Josh. As his curly hair bounced towards you, you offered a large smile. He knew what he was doing as an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards him and connecting your lips.

You froze, not expecting him to do something like that. As he retreated, his arm never left you, a smile still adorned as he turned you around and walked you towards his own room. Skin positively on fire from the encounter, your stomach was a chaotic mess of nerves.

Sitting in the general waiting area for Josh to finish getting ready to head to the hotel, you were literally sitting on the edge of your seat. You weren’t stupid, you knew why Josh kissed you right in the viewline of hundreds of fans. So, why was your mind running about the passion behind it? And why did you like it?

His curly due popped out of his door, a big grin greeting you as his wet hair dripped down his temples. “Ready to go?” Nodding with no verbal response, his hand linked with yours, escorting you down the tunnel. Your eyes were glued to the faux wedding rings adorning your hands.

Some fans waved you off in the private cars that headed in the direction of the hotel. Not muttering a word, Josh could sense the vibe was just ever so slightly different than normal. He knew you weren’t upset, but you weren’t exactly dripping with excitement either. Nervous?

It remained silent in the elevator ride up to the floor of your rooms. When he walked to his door, he finally made eye contact with you for the first time all evening. “Do you want to come inside and talk for a bit?”

Your wavering voice would give away your endless thoughts, so you just bob your head in agreement, stepping into the suite before him. Sitting on the overly large sofa for one person, Josh immediately knew something was different when you didn’t give a snide remark about that.

Finally sitting next to you, he handed you a drink from the bar. “Alright, what the hell is wrong with you? This is the longest you’ve ever been silent around me.” Sighing, you battled how to word this, but Josh beat you to it. “Was it the kiss? I’m sorry I should’ve asked you beforehand, but so many people were around I thought it was what I should do.”

Shaking your head, you felt heat creep up your neck. “No, no it’s fine. I agree, it was what should have been done. It’s just,” trailing off, his eyebrows furrowed. “It’s just what?” Deciding against telling him how you truly felt about it, you changed conversation tracks.

“Just that it was a lot of fun seeing you guys perform. Makes me realize who I’m actually married to.” He bought it. Immediately smiling brightly at your words, he relaxed into the stiff couch. “I can’t get over that. We’re married.” You both chuckled, eyes going to the wedding rings you wore.

“Do you remember the night at all?” He questioned, seeing if you had any recollection of how it came to be. Eyes going to the ceiling, you laughed as you tried to replay the fuzzy night. “I remember laughing. A lot. It was at one of those twenty-four hour chapels on the Strip. Jake was your best man, Jita was my maid of honor. Jake signed as our witness. Sam recorded the whole thing on Instagram.”

You two were erupting in laughter at the sheer stupidity of the situation. “You wanted to consummate the marriage right there in the chapel on the pew.” Josh laughed into his glass. Your jaw opened in shock, refuting the claim. “I did not!” Josh’s eyebrows raised as he recalled it. “Oh yes you did.”

Sitting there and staring into his eyes as his laughter died down, you gave a shrug. “Okay. So, what if I did? Would you have taken me right there?” He didn’t hesitate, not an inkling of nerves as his response came quickly.

“I would’ve taken you right there if we had been alone.” Swallowing thickly, in the blink of an eye Josh had ended up on top of you. Teeth hitting in a messy, hurried encounter. His tongue trying to explore every inch he could.

It moved so quickly you weren’t sure how you had ended up entirely nude in his bedroom. On your knees and hands, Josh pounding into you from behind. Hitting so deep inside of you that you were certain you were going to split in two.

Your moans were borderline murderous screams. Body being moved forward which each meet of his hips to your ass. The sounds ridiculously lude as your soaked bodies continued to join over and over.

As his cum painted your back and ass, you felt like you had run a marathon. His fingers still lightly tracing circles over your throbbing clit, instead of stopping all at once, easing you out of the pleasure that wracked your body.

Limbs turning to immediate jelly, you weren’t sure how you ended up in the shower together, going for another round. Fairly certain your body would never be able to recover again. Yet here you were, accepting him again with pleads. Years of pent up aggression with one another colliding.

Heavenly.

Well, that complicated it a bit more. What the hell was the matter with you? It was Josh for god’s sake! All you needed to do was show up for the concert, hang out with him for a few minutes, then go to your own room, and fly home the next afternoon. You couldn’t even do that right.

Because you were currently entangled in bedsheets with the boy, limbs intertwined, and you didn’t want to move. He was just so warm and soft, comfortable beyond belief. The gentle rise and fall of his chest nearly eases you back to sleep.

It was only a couple minutes later when he stirred awake, humming in content at you still being there. Arms tightening their grip on you. His deep, husky morning voice broke the gentle air, erupting your skin in goosebumps. “Morning,” his lips landed on the crown of your bedhead, trailing down to your cheek, then neck.

Easy was one way to describe it. The head of his cock breaching your entrance slowly and deeply. Lifting your leg as you remained on your side, Josh right behind you. His fingers danced on your clit, and in no time at all, you two fell apart.

Wanting to return back to the safe slumber of your life, he refused. As your eyes slid shut, they shot back open as his tongue traced your leaking hole. It was going to be a long morning. Which you didn’t really mind.

Letting Josh take you to brunch probably wasn’t the best move, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to come up with a phony excuse as to why you couldn’t. You wanted to spend some time with him, it wasn’t a crime or anything. If anything, it only strengthened the PR relationship you were putting up!

Oh, shut up.

Even when you got home, you found yourself looking forward to hearing from Josh. He didn’t understand what the change had been or when it had actually happened, but he wasn’t complaining. If anything, he was celebrating it. You were no longer doing everything in your power to avoid him, but instead were actually reaching out to see when you could see him again.

This was the literal best case scenario for him. His yearning for you over the years had only grown stronger through all of this and what had been a silly crush on his brother's best friend was blossoming into an actual romance.

Still, you were hiding your reasoning for seeing him behind the PR aspect of this arrangement, but the more you presented it and accepted when he did, the more hopeful he was becoming. It might be silly wishes, but after having harbored these feelings for you for as long as he had been, getting this close was playing with fire.

Did anyone have any idea about this infatuation? Not in the slightest. Josh knew he had done a wonderful job of keeping it at bay. Perhaps it came off as an elementary level crush where he teased you relentlessly, but he seriously had little to no game and that was how he knew to get your attention.

Some fine tuning was most definitely needed, he would admit that.

Did the teasing that Josh relentlessly tormented you with sear into your memory and want you to second guess what you were doing? Absolutely. In fact, one night in particular would always stick out to you. A junior year pool party where Josh announced to the entire party during a truth or dare session that you had never slept with a boy let alone kissed a boy, mortified you.

You could remember the shocked faces of your friends who had all recently gone on sexual journeys that school year and were no longer at your clumsy virgin level anymore. Only having told Jake in confidence, you were horrified to discover that Josh had obtained that information and that he thought it would gain some laughter and bump him up in popularity to divulge it.

He had regretted it immediately after it left his mouth. Your vision of him forever tainted. Of course, you would never admit that was the line he had crossed, instead picking other things about him that annoyed you. Josh knew the real reason.

So, where did that leave you both? Sitting in Josh’s living room about to sign your annulment paperwork after four months of fake dating. He had called you that afternoon at work and said his lawyer had dropped them off and all that was needed was a signature from you both.

Holding the pen to paper you signed your name, handing it over to Josh and seeing him do the same. Letting out a shaky laugh with a puff of air, you eyed him. “Okay, well that nightmare is now over.” He chuckled with you, hands rubbing nervously over the tops of his thighs.

“I am sorry about all of this.” You finally broke the tension by saying. Josh knew what you meant. This had been your idea. The entire thing. Having made a bet with Jake that if you could win on a $200 bet in one go at a blackjack table, he owed you $5,000. Being as inebriated as he was, he hastily agreed. Yet, when he asked what would happen if you lost it left you fumbling for an answer. Something worth at least that monetary value, you reached your decision quickly.

“I’ll marry Josh tonight.” Everyone hooted and hollered, watching you place your bet and of course, losing on the spot. Josh immediately invited everyone to come to the chapel with you both, saying he couldn’t imagine marrying you without his family there. One Instagram livestream and twenty some odd stories later, you two were hitched.

He shrugged with a chuckle thinking back to it. “It’s a funny story we will always look back on and laugh about.” Agreeing with him and not sure what your next move was, you rose from his sofa, heading toward the front door when your name echoed in the large room.

Turning, you saw Josh cross to get to you. Colliding together, your purse fell to the floor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he crushed you to him. “Don’t go.” He spoke out. You nodded eagerly, bringing him back to you.

“I like you. A lot.” He spoke out in between kisses. Only a muffled mhm and me too escaped your throat before Josh led you to his room.

It was like answering a craving that your body was shaking to get its fill on. Like a drug you had never experienced before. Needing him in you more than the air you breathed. Filling the void that only Josh could fill.

Only Josh. That was all your mind could think of. Could handle. Even as he eyed you, laying nude in his sheets, he riddled every thought.

“Can I take you out?” You laughed, seeing him eyeing you from above you. “I’m serious! I know we kind of did this backwards, but I really do like you. I want to take you out. For real.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you grabbed his chin in your fingertips. “Promise you won’t marry me this time?” He nodded, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Absolutely. The plan is to knock you up this time.”

#ficthots #josh kiszka #greta van fleet #joshua kiszka #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh gvf #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #danny wagner #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka smut #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka x reader smut #josh kiszka x y/n #josh kiszka x you

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belovedmusings · 6 months

Text

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Themes 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part seven of the 'Two + One' story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and he finally notices that his bandmate, Suguru may feel some type of way about you. Now, it's up to you to decide whether you want to come clean about your own feelings for Suguru, and your subconscious may just decide for you.

Relevant tags: sexual tension, thoughts of infidelity, characters with questionable morals, Suguru is hot, Suguru has piercings and tattoos amen, Choso is sweet and loyal, slow burn, no "y/n" for immersion, 2nd POV, reader has no defining characteristics, explicit smut, missionary, nipple play (fem receiving)

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Just Pretend (Bad Omens), Is There Someone Else (The Weekend), Undisclosed Desires (Muse)

A/N: I'm starting to think Bad Omens ghostwrote this fic the way that entire album fits this story perfectly. Also, just for clarification, the italic texts are yours, and the bolded texts are Suguru's! The drama is getting real and it will continue to build. Enjoy ;)

Read on Ao3 if you prefer!

Or read below cut:

Things return to a semblance of normalcy.

Choso continues to work with Curse Manipulator.

Suguru doesn’t text or call you, despite having gotten your number, and you sort of let it be.

You greet Choso when he comes home, and you’re both happy to see each other.

The two of you even have a better sex life than you’ve ever had now that he’s become bolder with you.

But it feels like you’re walking on thin ice. Microcracks are undulating beneath the weight of your steps, the frigid void of water beneath beginning to seep through. There are no indications. You just feel like something is off.

He isn’t acting like anything is wrong…but it’s almost as if things are too quiet.

This purgatory drags on for about a month until one night, when you’re home alone and you get a text from Suguru.

He noticed.

You pause as soon as you read it. He noticed? What does Suguru mean by that?

What?

I’ve been asking about you more, he asked me what was up.

Then I told him the truth.

Your heart full-on drops into the pit of your stomach.

What did you say?

I said I think you’re attractive.

Was that all?

Well, I also said I have no intention of usurping you. That I respect him and your relationship.

But I wanted to tell you because he’s probably going to bring it up.

So be prepared.

The way he’s talking, it sounds like the two of you have to cover something up. It’s like it’s a late-stage affair rather than just the metaphorical dance-around-the-fire the two of you have been engaging in.

Is it still bad? Yes. Is this text conversation proof of that? Yes, again.

Okay…

Thanks for the heads up.

Also,

I’ve been wanting to text you but I wasn’t sure what to say.

Anything is incriminating, right?

Not necessarily…you could ask me how my day was or…I don’t know, bring up a new movie or song or…

Maybe it just feels that way because of how I feel about you.

And how I know you feel about me.

It’s not innocent.

You have to set the phone down for a minute to gather your bearings. What game is he playing? You haven’t heard from him in a month and now he does this?

Your hand picks your phone back up and you type out a reply.

When you talk like that, of course it’s not.

How can I see what your face looks like right now without you being here?

What do you see?

Your eyes are heavy. There’s a weight in them. You’re probably holding my hand again.

I wish I was.

Good god, you can’t catch a break.

Should you really be flirting with me after you told my boyfriend you were attracted to me?

He just thinks it’s one-sided.

He doesn’t know you feel the same.

So now I have to pretend like it is?

You have a choice to make. Tell him you’re attracted to me or just act surprised.

You mean, lie to him either way?

What other option do you have that won’t end in disaster?

He has a point. You can’t say it’s more than attraction, then he’d catch Suguru in a lie also. He’d realize it goes deeper than how he made it seem. So what?

Be half-honest, or lie completely?

Anyways…how was your day?

The abruptness of the text has you laughing aloud in the silence of your living room.

It was fine. How was yours?

Just worked. We’re getting close to finalizing the album, then the next steps will come.

What are the next steps?

A music video for the title track, press run, and a tour. It’s going to be our biggest album yet.

As you read it, the gravity of it all hits you.

Choso is part of a successful band. And it’s on the trajectory to get bigger and bigger. All of the proper groundwork has been laid—they’re local stars, and with a music video and the team Suguru has secured to help with promotion, their music will find new fans all over the place. With that comes touring, traveling all over the country and even the world…it’s huge.

Wow.

I can’t believe this is all happening.

It sounds like a lot, doesn’t it?

Well, yeah. You’re going to be proper rock stars.

Haha

You’ll be along for the ride.

Choso’s going to want you there. And I will too.

You’ll see everything we do.

That sounds fun and intimidating.

It does, right?

But it’s exciting. Choso is exactly what we were missing. With him we’re going to make it.

I feel proud.

You should.

A question pops into your mind.

Was it always your goal to have fame?

Haha, well, I admit I am a bit of a show-off.

I just think everything happened to put me in this position.

That makes sense. I feel special, getting to know you guys before you get big. I’m your first groupie.

Haha, come on, you’re more than that. So much more.

I know. But I really am a fan. Your music is all I play recently.

Yeah? What song is your favorite?

Strange. You wrote it about your life, right?

I did. It’s sort of an autobiography. I’m surprised that’s your favorite, it’s one of the only songs of ours that’s really personal.

Why are you surprised? I remember when you told me about that stuff. Hearing it in a song was beautiful.

You sound so open and honest when you’re singing.

Oh, I see…

Was I not when I told you?

No, I meant I could feel your emotions because of how you sang it.

It’s breathtaking.

When you compliment me like that, it goes straight to my head.

Coming from you, that means the world.

I’ll make more meaningful songs in the future.

You don’t have to just because it’s what I like.

No, I want to.

I have some things I want to say.

You know, you’ve inspired me a lot.

You groan out loud, laying back on the couch and rubbing at your face in frustration. What are you supposed to do with that? This doesn’t sound like ‘no intentions of usurping’.

Luckily (or unluckily) the lock in your front door turns, indicating the return of your boyfriend.

You close out of the messaging app and lock your phone, hoping to ignore that text the rest of the night. With that you pretend to have been watching whatever show is on television as he walks in.

Immediately, his smile is tight as he greets you. “Hey.”

Oh god, here we go.

“Hey, baby,” you reply, giving him a smile as he moves to sit beside you after removing his shoes. He gives you a kiss on the cheek, arms winding around your waist. “How was it today?”

“It was okay,” he begins, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before they flit away. “I had an interesting conversation with Suguru.”

You steel yourself. “Interesting how?”

“Well,” he hesitates, pulling away and resituating himself on the cushion beside you, fiddling with his hands for a moment. “Lately, he’s been asking a lot…about you. At first, I didn’t think much of it. But then Larue randomly said today ‘you should bring her by again, Suguru won’t shut up about her.’ I didn’t realize he spoke about you when I wasn’t around. It got me thinking…why would he be talking about you like that? Then he mentioned you again, how you haven’t been around, and then I decided to just ask him what it was about once the other two guys left.”

You take a breath. “Um, okay…and?”

“And he told me he was attracted to you. Like, straight-up. I mean, he reassured me he wasn’t going to do anything about it, but I…I don’t know. I mean, he’s Suguru. He could probably have whoever he wants. If he went after you…”

Moment of truth. Who will you be?

“Um…” You begin, heart pounding as you find your words, “well, that’s…”

Choso’s eyes flit back to yours, waiting to hear what you have to say.

“Well, I…thought maybe he did…”

“You did?” Choso asks, “You thought he was interested in you? Since when?”

“I don’t know, I just had a feeling.” Okay, so now you are a liar. Guilt starts fortifying deep in your gut. “I-I mean, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Oh,” Choso frowns, “So…I mean…what do you think about it?”

The correct answer is to tell him there’s no chance in hell. But hell is where you currently are, and you’ve entertained Suguru enough already, so what does that do for anyone?

You sigh heavily. “To…to be honest…I mean, he is an attractive guy, but I would never leave you for him, not in a million years, Chos’.”

Choso’s face is unreadable for a second, and you immediately begin regretting what you just said.

“So…” He breathes out, brows furrowing slightly. “What I’m…hearing is that you two are attracted to each other?”

Back pedal, back pedal, back pedal.

“I meant that he’s just a good-looking guy. You know? And he’s nice, but that doesn’t compare to what you and I have. We have history and intimacy, baby, I would never let him disrupt that.”

Haven’t you already, though? Liar.

“But what if it was different? If you met him first, and then me? If you had the history and intimacy with him? Would you still want me the same?”

Can he see right through you? This has potential to blow up in your face. You need to put this fire out now.

“It’s not that serious,” you shake your head, taking his hands, “I’m in love with you, Chos’, and there are tons of good-looking guys out there, that doesn’t mean that I like them or want to be with them!”

“So you don’t like Suguru like that? It’s just that you think he’s good-looking?”

“Right.” Wrong.

Choso sucks in a deep breath, reaching up and taking his hair out of their ties to rub at his head. “Well…I…I trust you, obviously, it’s just weird.”

“Y-yeah, that’s understandable.”

You’re lying to the man you love. This who you are now, isn’t it? A bad person.

“I don’t need to worry, do I?”

“No,” you say in a rush, “baby, I’m yours, okay? I love you so much. You are the best. And nothing will take me away from you.”

He looks at you for a moment before moving closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “I’m just so afraid you’ll fall out of love with me. You’re my world and it’s unhealthy how much I love you. I’d sooner let you walk all over my heart than leave me.”

Each word twists the dagger he’s lodged in your heart harder and harder.

All you can say is, “I love you,” like an apology, squeezing him tightly in your arms.

“I love you,” he replies, tightening his own hold on you, and despite all of the words you exchanged, it doesn’t feel like you’ve reached a resolution at all.

You’ve just dug yourself a deeper hole.

____

“I want to keep going,” Suguru stares up at you, his mouth at the line of your shirt, dangerously near the top of your breast. You’ve seen this before—you two are in your living room all alone. Choso’s at his brother’s house. This is the part where Suguru pulls away and says he won’t go further.

Except, he doesn’t do that. He pulls you onto the couch. You wind up beneath him quickly, and he doesn’t stop. His greedy hands tug your shirt down, exposing you to his eyes, and his pierced lips wrap around a nipple, large palms on your hips, gripping them like you’ll float away if he doesn’t hold you down.

You feel the bead of his tongue piercing on your stiff peak, and can’t stop the gasp of his name.

“Suguru!”

He smiles up at you, that infuriating crooked grin, his hands working expertly to get you naked. His mouth kisses, tastes, and marks any expanse of skin he can touch, and before you know it, you can’t even remember if either of you had been wearing clothes in the first place. All you feel is his hot skin on yours everywhere.

He hovers his face over yours, molten sunset eyes locked with yours.

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Don’t care.”

His mouth devours yours as a parched traveler attacks an oasis, and you moan at the taste of his mouth, the warmth of his tongue on yours, and you just let go. Your hands thread into his beautiful black tresses, cupping his face, kissing him with all of the desire in the world.

Then, he’s inside of you.

It knocks the wind out of you, dislodging the kiss so you can cry out another, “Suguru!”

He groans, and then he’s moving, thrusts coming quick and hard, like an animal mauling its prey, carnal and so so delicious, your hands find his chest, his neck, his abdomen, his arms, his hips—you want to grab onto any and every part of him but nowhere you touch is enough, you want to become one with him.

He goes harder and you can’t stop saying his name. It’s an incantation, evoking a side of you that you’ve never known, that you’re afraid of, that you vy for.

“Suguru…” it tumbles freely, “Suguru, Suguru!”

He takes you to heights you’ve never been to before, and you feel light as air yet far away like you’re at the bottom of the ocean. He fills your lungs, it’s impossible to breathe when it’s this hot—

Your eyes snap open. A hand is on your shoulder. Eyes are on yours.

But they don’t belong to Suguru.

You’re in bed with Choso, and your blood suddenly runs cold.

You were dreaming.

The resignation in his eyes says it all.

“You…were saying his name in your sleep.”

---

A/N: evil cliffhanger oopsies...hope you enjoyed!! Also, I changed the cover art for the story 'cause it looked a little too cringe. This one is still cringe but tastefully so. Okay, d out!

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

Taglist (comment here or my masterlist if you want to be added): @jaegerstan222 , @cosmicstarlatte , @dabisdolly , @moonriseoverkyoto , @propheticfire , @bontensbabygirl , @crlyhairedwxtch , @alittlebirdahgaselx , @okkovtsu , @notbellasstuff , @uchihabbynic , @polaroidnana , @childofilluvatar , @shadowfoxy , @jordan-network , @dreamtravelersade , @unmatchxd , @lucyrocks86 , @spineyy , @k3lbade , @xxbuckpoppi , @naughtygobbo , @slammynics , @roseambers , @luvingyouwasreallyhard , @hinachaaan , @redladyrae-blog , @spiteless-xo , @slutforaz , @bellaabee082 , @thedorklingqueen , @delayedrage , @poopwons , @pandisastergod , @username23345 , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @forest-haven , @midnaamethyste , @bihanspookies , @mysteriouskiller1 , @liyahthings , @makingtimemine

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heyidkyay · 5 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it.

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep.

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me.

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand.

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky.

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs.

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done.

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard.

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more.

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon.

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated.

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.”

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about.

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it.

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile.

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me.

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start Pulling all the stops out On the down low, secretly But I think you knew your psychology Was working on me Infatuated And doing this all wrong You've got My number and my name And you've got me going Yeah, you've got me going Can I see you every day? Do you love me Like I love you? Ah, you've got me going Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me.

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand.

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me?

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays.

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick.

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him.

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings.

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal.

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway.

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him.

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before.

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv.

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which.

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down.

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.”

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...”

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks.

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?”

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind.

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.”

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

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