#i am hyperventilating hovering over the post button

[shyphonics]

Salad Days Chapter 5: We Are The One

This chapter is certified 18+™ for smut and light mental health crisis (we've all been there... right?)

I'm sorry if I'm rusty lol. Also, I made a tag list! Let me know if you want in :) this is looking like it's gonna be pretty long.

one | two | three | four

It’s your turn for soundcheck now, and… Jesus, you’re actually nervous. It’s been forever since you’ve been nervous.

You’ve played The Strike every week for about a year now, slowly creeping your way from dead Monday shows, to decent Thursday shows, to electric weekend shows.

You’ve worked your ass off to move from the merch table spot in the dark, at the edge of the dance floor, to one of the spots under the lights and the AC unit.

You know every person here, at least by face, and they know you. Either from the band or the bar. Except for Rodrick and his friends, that is.

You’ve never headlined before, though, and something about your first time is making you shaky.

So, here you stand, face to face with yourself in the bathroom mirror. Jessica, your lead guitar, is against the wall, cool as can be in her vinyl pants. She blows out a long puff of smoke, and fluffs out her short, green hair with one hand.

“We’re gonna be fine. It’s like any other night.”

But it’s not like any other night, not to you.

Is it Rodrick? Are you trying to impress him? That’d be really fucking stupid. You don’t do what you do to impress people.

That, and you’re pretty sure he’d be impressed no matter what you do.

But…

You don't quite know what's happening to you, whether it's how good he’d looked on stage, or the feelings that overcame you when that douchebag sucker-punched him.

Maybe it's a combination of both.

On stage, he'd been sexy and self-assured. Playing those drums like it was nothing. Making your heart flutter with a wink and a smile, like you were a dumb lovestruck teenager at her first concert again.

After that guy had hit him… he got vulnerable. He'd looked so sad, defeated almost. Hurt, not just physically, but emotionally. It made you wonder if those two had a history. It made you want to latch onto him and make him all better.

It seems like Rodrick, whether he’s aware of it or not, knows just where to hit to take down your walls.

“We gotta go,” Maureen pops her head into the restroom.

You push your little emotional breakthrough back in and take a deep breath.

This isn't the time for that.

You climb the side steps, as you have a hundred times, and start fighting audio cables until everything looks right.

Pink cord goes from amp to overdrive pedal. Black cord goes from tuning pedal to bass.

Fuck. Is that even right? You don’t know anymore.

Low notes come from your amp, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Everyone else is all set up, and you look around. It’s time.

Soundcheck is quick. Too quick. You adjust your setlist with your foot, and stretch out your fingers.

Eddie pushes his glasses up and gives you a thumbs up.

You just gotta start, and then you’ll be fine.

“Hey fuckers!” Your voice comes out more powerful than you'd expected, “We’re The Shrieks!”

The crowd comes alive. Deep breaths.

The lights are up, the crowd is buzzing and you- wow. You're glowing. You look so confident and fucking cool, all lit up in gold stage lights.

Rodrick watches as you and your bandmates give each other a nod.

A note rings out. A second. A third. A fourth.

The song explodes, and Rodrick’s mouth falls open. You’re hopping, and shaking your hair out, really hyping yourself up.

Then you open your lips. Rodrick is enamored. No high school crush he ever had could compare to how he feels right now. He gives in to the movement of the crowd, and it feels like being in the ocean. Bodies all moving as one.

There’s a smile on his face that just won’t go away. He’s never been to a show quite like this.

He holds on to the front of the stage just to watch you, taking in the absolute power you’re giving off. Trying his best to read your lips and hear every word.

I am the one who brings you the future

I am the one who buries your past

A new species, I come from the ruins

I am the one that was made to last

We are not Jesus (Christ!)

Oh, no, we are not fascist (pigs!)

Oh, no we are not capitalist (industrialists!)

Oh, no, we are not communists

We are the one

We are the one

We are the one

We are the one

The party’s still going, even after everyone has shuffled out and the doors are locked. Mike has commandeered the sound booth and is playing “some shit from the good old days.”

You're up in the storage loft above the stage, wrapping up cables and boxing up mics. You close a tackle box full of neatly rolled cords and notice Rodrick down by the stage.

You sit and just watch him for a minute, trying to figure out if your bathroom mirror crisis was just pre-show jitters.

He looks like he's looking for you, craning his neck around and slowly spinning in place.

He's just such a dork.

You’re not sure if you can even be snarky with him anymore.

It's been a really long time since you had a crush on someone. Especially one like this. You're used to being in control, giving no more of yourself than you want to. For all you know, when you get down there, you'll be giggling like an idiot at his mercy.

Pull yourself together.

“I love this song,” you drop down from the storage loft, hopping off the stage, landing in front of Rodrick. Trying to play it cool.

He jumps when you appear, a smile spreading across his face.

“You were amazing.” He sighs.

“Back at you,” you restrain yourself from grinning.

You're still buzzing with adrenaline, and it spurs you on to try something. You step forward, and clasp your arms behind his neck.

His eyes widen, but after some hesitation, he brings his hands to your waist. The two of you begin to sway, a little uncoordinated, to the music. You look up into his eyes. He looks nervous, but a small smile is beginning to form on his face.

Your giddiness starts to fade away, and you feel a little more in control of yourself.

“Did you go to your prom?” You ask.

“Hell no,” Rodrick scoffs, “Did you?”

“I didn't even graduate,” you laugh, “so no. But it explains why we're kinda bad at this.”

“I don't think we're that bad,” He attempts to spin you. You both break out in a fit of giggles as your back hits his chest and you recenter.

“I wanna do that, like, every weekend forever.” He sighs.

“That's not a hard ask. I can show you some of the other venues when I'm free. You guys will be working the circuit in no time.” You look up at him.

Rodrick’s smile is so genuine. He looks completely content.

The world disappears around you as you get lost in the song, swaying and spinning, staring into each other's eyes. You've never been so glad to have taken a chance on someone.

“How's your lip?” You ask.

“It's okay,”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

You hesitate, then lean upwards, testing the water.

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and he leans down to meet your lips.

The kiss is warm and familiar, all traces of awkwardness are gone. It feels like you know each other. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and pulls away.

“So am I allowed to like you now?” His voice is lower than before. He holds you close to him, one arm tight across your lower back.

“You feel like you could pass a field sobriety test?” You smirk.

“Yeah?” Rodrick raises an eyebrow.

“Okay. You're allowed.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes, and leans in to kiss you again, but you both quickly turn to the sound of someone clearing their throat. It's one of his bandmates, the blonde one. He's avoiding looking at either of you.

“Hey, Rodrick, uh, you two…” He clears his throat again, “The other bands invited us out to eat, and we were gonna go… but it looks like you're busy.”

Rodrick blinks at you, “Are you gonna go?”

“Yeah, let's go. You should get some carbs in you. Soak up all that booze, or you're gonna have a bad morning.” You detach from him, and walk towards the back door.

Your car is parked right next to their van, and Rodrick looks like he's hesitating getting in with his friends. You roll your window down and raise your eyebrow at him.

“Do you… wanna ride with me?”

He looks surprised, “Can I?”

“Yeah, get in.” You lean over and pop the door open, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He bounces into your passenger seat, beaming.

“You know where to go, right?” You shout into the van. Rodrick’s friends give you a thumbs up.

You roll the window up, and pull out of the parking lot.

Rodrick is drumming on his knees to a song playing in your car. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and smile a little. You think of the day you met him, all pent up energy and rock n roll, baby!

Big, dumb dog.

He moves a hand to your thigh and continues drumming the rhythm. You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. His eyes are locked on your thigh as it bounces to the beat.

You pull up outside the old Waffle House, and it looks like you're the first to make it.

“Let's wait,” you sigh, leaning back, turning up the music.

His hand stills on your thigh. You close your eyes, honestly exhausted from the show.

His hand moves upward to rest in the crook of your hip, and the corner of your mouth curls up. You turn your head to look at him.

“What're you doin’?”

“Nothing,” he says, trying to sound inconspicuous.

Rodrick’s heart is going a mile a minute. He'd been so confident back at the bar, but here, with you, just you, he’s freaking out a little.

He studies your face in the glow of an orange street light. Your eyes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He wants every feature burned into his memory forever. His hand is warm against your hip. You put your hand over his and he smiles.

“What, did you get scared or something?” You smirk.

“No…” Rodrick lies.

You kiss him again, and he melts into it. He slips one hand into the back of your hair and pulls you closer. You maneuver over the center console to get in his lap, and he breathes out deeply. The kiss gets messy, like all the energy of the night is coming out between your lips. Your hands are shaking. One rests on Rodrick’s shoulder, the other in his hair, and you make a noise as he bites your lip lightly.

“Sorry, is that okay?” He whispers.

You pull him in, and bite him back harder.

He groans, and his hold on your waist tightens.

He's snaking a hand under the hem of your shirt, when there's a tentative knock on the window. You pull away from each other.

“God dammit!” Rodrick pants.

It's Ward, with a hand over his mouth, feigning being scandalized.

“Oooooooh,” he taunts, when you're both out of the car, “I knew it.”

You roll your eyes, and keep the door open with your foot as the guys pour in. People from the show are everywhere, this is a decently common occurrence. You find a seat between your band and Rodrick’s at the bar. Maureen, your drummer, offers you a fist bump, and leans into your ear.

“He's cute,” she whispers, “did you drive here with him?”

You nod, suppressing a goofy grin.

“Do you think you're gonna…?”

You shrug.

“Up to him,” you whisper back.

The waitress, a blonde with a buzz cut and a face full of piercings, greets you by name, and asks, “Usual?”

Once your orders are in, Rodrick puts his hand securely on your thigh.

“Do you guys come here a lot?”

“Oh yeah, at least every weekend,” you lower your voice, “That's Jeanine, she's our regular. Then Martin and Rosie, who have worked here since the beginning of time. Then there's Carla. She's new. Last weekend, she and Martin were fighting because she kept getting orders wrong.”

He narrows his eyes and looks at each person you point at.

“Do you just come here to eavesdrop?” he asks quietly, suppressing a laugh.

“It's fascinating. Just watch.”

The two of you eat in silence and observe the inner workings of Waffle House.

Rodrick nudges you as Carla scrapes a plate into the trash, and Martin yells, Dammit, Carla! Chunked and covered! Not scattered!

Carla throws her apron to the floor and flips him off with both hands. Fuck you, old man!

“Oh shit,” you whisper.

“Damn,” Rodrick turns to look at you.

As your eyes meet, and the bell on the door jingles aggressively, you can't hold in your laughter anymore.

"He's such an asshole." Rodrick whispers, giggling in disbelief. Does every diner job just suck ass?

"I know, this Waffle House is under a dictatorship," you laugh

You both calm down, and end up just staring at each other.

“Rodrick, I don't wanna be too… forward, but…” you trail off.

His face goes blank.

“Do you wanna… get out of here? With me?”

Rodrick drops his fork, and snatches his tab off the counter.

“Yes,” his voice is feverish.

You follow behind him, and wave goodbye to everyone on your way out.

You'll absolutely get teased for this later on, but who gives a fuck?

Now, I've drunk a lot of wine and I'm feeling fine

Gotta race some cat to bed

Oh, is there concrete all around?

Or is it in my head?

Rodrick’s hands are on you the moment you shut your front door.

He backs you up against it, bringing his lips to yours once again. His lips creep down to your jaw, then your neck. Then he's on his knees, pushing the hem of your shirt up, kissing your stomach, your hip bones.

Your hands are in his hair, stroking and tugging.

“I don't know what it is about you,” Rodrick murmurs between kisses, “I just knew, I had to…”

“Me too,” you laugh a little, “I'm not usually this easy.”

He grins deviously up at you, undoing your bottoms.

“So you don't bring someone home like this after every show?” He gives your waist a little bite.

“No, god, no,” you chuckle, “this should be too fast, but something about this, you just feel right."

“Why me?” He pauses, looking up at you.

“You're just,” you look down at him. His dark doe eyes drill into yours, plump lips slightly open. You feel his hot breath on you, and it sends a shiver up your spine, “Jesus, you're just fucking hot. And you're not, like, an asshole about it. You could've taken any girl in that bar home tonight.”

“I wanted you,” his lips twitch, and without hesitation, he lifts you up, and sets you back down on your kitchen counter. He plants soft kisses on your thighs, and pauses to look up at you. It makes your head cloudy.

“Can I try something?” His voice is breathy.

You're still recovering from the shock of being lifted like that.

“Yeah,” you say, in slight disbelief, looking down at him.

He plants a kiss on your panties, and then removes them completely. You heartbeat skyrockets.

“I might be kinda bad, but… I've always wanted to try.”

You watch him gaze over your wetness. You truly cannot believe what's happening right now. He looks lustful, but focused, like he's trying to form a plan. Then without warning, he just dives in.

You hadn't expected much from him, but damn, he knows what he's doing. A shocked moan leaves your lips.

Your body feels electric as he snakes his tongue through your folds, finding all the places that make you whimper. He grunts, and you practically feel it reverberate through your whole body. You wrap your legs around his head and pull him closer. His tongue circles your clit and you throw your head back. His plush lips cover so much ground as he gives you a light suck.

“You sure you've never done this before?” Your weak voice teases him.

He pulls away with a pop, making you shudder.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, “I’ve just thought about it a lot.”

“Well, you're doing fucking great.”

He gives you a sly grin and goes back in.

Your back starts to arch as he flicks, and sucks, and swirls his tongue. Your moans mix with his soft grunts and you realize you're starting to come undone. You grab a handful of his hair and roll your hips.

“Keep going,” you gasp, “I-I’m…”

His eyes flick up to meet yours and that does it. Your body jolts, and you squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm rattles through you, the counter cool against your body.

He slows his actions, and comes to rest on your thigh again.

When you're recovered, you sit up, and put your hands on his shoulders. You kiss him hard, tasting yourself, and feel a new arousal awaken in you.

“Was that really okay?” His eyes plead with you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You pant, holding his face in your hands, and he looks bashful, “Best I've ever had.”

You hop down from the counter.

“Your turn.”

“Are you sure?” He stutters.

You take him by the hand, and lead him across the small apartment to your bed.

Rodrick’s breath is shaky as he leans against the edge.

“Take your shirt off,” you tell him, and he does.

His eyes are hazy with lust, and he grunts when you kiss him. You run your hands over his chest. The muscles in his core are tight, and you can feel his heartbeat. Hard and fast.

You kneel, and your hands find the tight bulge in his jeans. He bites his lip as you unbuckle his belt and free him from his boxers.

It's a good length, fairly weighty, and he groans when you take it in your hands. You look up into his eyes and lightly roll your tongue over the tip. His knees buckle, and he sits back on your bed. You chuckle and scoot closer, steadying yourself between his legs.

“So… safe to assume you've never done this either?”

You fit him further into your mouth, trying to wet as much as you can.

“One time… almost,” he says, labored, “we were in a car and the cops knocked on the window.”

“Fuckin’ pigs,” you shake your head, then take him in as far as you can get him.

He lets out a long, low noise. You grasp the rest of his length with your hand and pump lightly. His thigh shakes under your other hand as you swirl your tongue.

You catch his eye and come up for air, licking him from base to tip. His eyes roll back, and you laugh.

“Should I keep going, or is this gonna take you out of commission?” You tease.

“Please… keep going,” Rodrick breathes.

His mind is foggy as he feels himself enter your mouth again. He can't even process what he's feeling, all he knows is he never wants it to stop. He doesn't feel in control of his own body. His hands desperately search for a grip on your comforter as you bob your head.

He tries his best to focus, to keep his eyes on you, but he feels something in himself start to slip. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, barely keeping himself up on his elbows. His legs tremble as he feels himself hit your throat and he lets out a long moan.

Then your mouth is gone, and he opens his eyes, desperate for the feeling to come back.

You crawl on top of him and straddle him.

“Scoot back,” you murmur, and he obliges.

You lean down to kiss him, and his hands come to rest gently in your hair.

Something still feels weird in his head. He doesn't think he's drunk anymore, but even the low light of your apartment feels too bright. His ears are ringing, maybe still from the noise of the bar. He feels his heart start to beat out of his chest, and he holds on to you for dear life.

It feels like he's dreaming, but maybe as long as his hands are on you, he'll be okay.

You're saying something. The words don't quite reach him, but he nods anyway. Eager for something to pull him back into reality.

A little voice in the back of his head is hissing. He tries to blow it off, but it's persistent, fighting him.

You don't deserve this.

Fuck his stupid brain. He wants to be present with you. He wants to hold onto every little second of this, keep it forever. It feels like you're far, far away from him, even as he watches you take your shirt off and feels your hips, warm on his.

The ringing in his ears subsides a little as your lips touch his again.

“Let me know if you want to stop, you look a little overwhelmed.” You whisper.

“No,” Rodrick urges, “I never wanna stop,”

You laugh, and start to kiss a trail down his chest.

He sighs into the feeling and closes his eyes.

The fuzz in his head isn't gone, though.

Yet.

It'll go away, he knows it.

He just needs to focus. On you, on how good you're making him feel.

On how good he'd made you feel, he's pretty damn proud of that.

Just stay in the moment.

Please, just stay in the moment.

And now I'm ready to close my eyes

And now I'm ready to close my mind

And now I'm ready to feel your hand

And lose my heart on the burning sand

And now I wanna be your dog

And now I wanna be your dog

And now I wanna be your dog

Well, c'mon

~

tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

[cherrybracelets]

Clocks (A Ben Hardy x Reader Fic)

(word count : 1.4k)

(warning : swearing)

( summary : you’re getting married tomorrow, and suddenly come to the realization that you don’t love the man you’re marrying )

Tick. Tick. Tick. Fuck, this clock was loud. Tick. Tick. Why was this clock so damn loud? Who needs to be that aware of every second passing by? Every lonely second of your existence. Every minute of confusion and terror. Your stomach flipped. You stood up quickly, running towards the bathroom, feeling your dinner coming up.

You fell to the floor in front of your toilet and heaved up your food. You sat back, drenched in a cold sweat, and started laughing. Your laughter quickly turned into tears, and you buried your face into your hands.

“Hey, are you alright?” You heard a faint voice outside the door. You could tell it was your best friend, (Y/F/N), coming to assure you weren’t going insane. But you were. You were going fucking crazy. See, the thing is, tomorrow you were getting married. The ceremony was going to be beautiful, fresh flowers, a string quartet, catered by a five-star restaurant. And your fiancée, god what a perfect man he was. Funny, handsome, intelligent, rich.

And despite all that, you didn’t love him. You did, at one point. You did when he asked you to marry him. But then you met him. Ben. You stumbled into him doing an interview at your magazine, and the way you felt was like nothing you felt with Tom.

He was handsome, his blonde hair ruffled about, he smelled of cigarettes and black coffee. He asked you to grab coffee and chat, and you thought nothing of it. A friendly conversation, a platonic friendship you desperately needed. But this one coffee date turned in to weekly things. And then almost every day you saw each other. You texted all day and spoke on the phone. He was your best friend.

And it didn’t take long for you to realize you had fallen in love with him. It started out small, a growing feeling in your gut you could push away as a small crush, post wedding jitters. Cold feet. But three weeks ago, three weeks before your wedding, you woke up and knew. You knew you were fucked.

You tried to push the feeling down even further. You stopped texting him. Cancelled your standing coffee dates. Pushed him away. And it hurt you so bad. You missed him, craved his company, needed to hear his voice. But you had to try and move on, you were getting married. You promised Tom you were going to love him the rest of your life.

So now you were getting married tomorrow, holding in tears and puke and sitting on the bathroom floor pleading with yourself. Don’t call him. You can’t call him.

“Hey, babe, let me in!” Your friend banged on the locked door, making you jump out of your disoriented state. You reached up and unlocked the door, opening it a crack so she could force herself in. She sat on the floor next to you and placed her hand on your cheek.

“Oh, honey. What’s wrong?” She grabbed you a warm washcloth to clean off your face.

“I can’t do this, it’s all wrong. I need to talk to Ben.” You fiddled with your phone, and felt more hot tears come out of your eyes. You took a deep breath, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Ok. If that’s what you need to do, I will help you. You’ve been my best friend since I was ten. If you need me to drive the getaway car tonight I will do it.” She squeezed your hand tightly and you felt your heart settle. Having at least one person on your side made this a bit easier.

You began to dial Bens number, and hovered over the call button. Maybe it wasn’t worth it, to hurt and disappoint everyone just so you could be happy. It might be better just to make everyone else happy and be miserable.

But you hit send. You couldn’t control yourself. Your body just forced you to do. It knew what you wanted, what you needed. It was him. You needed him.

The phone rang, and rang. If he didn’t pick up, that was it. It wasn’t meant to be. You’d get married, and you’d live your life and move on.

“Hello? (Y/N)? I’ve been worried sick why the hell haven’t you answered me.” His voice came in strong and angry, notes of protection in his voice.

“Ben...” you whispered. Your voice cracked lightly, just hearing his voice calmed your breathing down to a healthy level again.

“Oh god, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“I need to see you. I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, I’m about fifteen minutes away. I’ll be right there. Everything is going to be okay, I’m here for you.” He hung up the phone and you placed yours on the ground next to you. He was coming for you. He was here for you.

“I’m gonna head out for a bit so you two can talk, call me when you need me.” Your friend stood up and kissed you on the cheek. You cleaned yourself up and headed into your living room, and stared at the door. Waiting for him.

A knock came. An intense, I’m here for you kind of knock. You walked over, and held the doorknob for a moment. This was it. This was the moment that would change everything.

You opened the door to find a disheveled Ben standing in front of you, looking nervous, nails bitten to the quick. He quickly hugged you, wrapping his warm arms around you. You hugged him back and let out a long sigh of relief. He was here.

“Are you ok?” He placed a hand on your cheek and pouted.

“I’m in love with you. And I can’t get married tomorrow without telling you I love you and that if you love me too, well, then I want this. I want this with you.”

Ben looked stunned, his eyes widened and his mouth slightly open. He began to say something, but quickly stopped and closed his mouth. He looked up at the sky and took a long breath, and then looked back at you.

“I don’t understand. You’re with Tom.”

“Yeah, but then I met you.”

“What am I supposed to do? Do you want me to run away with you? Sweep you off your feet and kiss you and take you away from a man who is promising his life to you? It doesn’t matter if I feel the same way... I can’t do that to him.”

“You feel the same way?” You looked into Bens eyes, and watched as he stepped towards you slowly.

“It doesn’t matter.... it can’t .... we can’t....” He still continued to move towards you, until he was inches away from his face. You could smell the cigarettes on him, and a bit of bourbon on his breath. He leaned his forehead against yours, his lips almost brushing against yours.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You asked, pushing your body into his.

He crashed his lips into you, his one hand on your waist and the other on your neck to pull you as close as he could. His warm body was pushed tightly up against yours, his lips moving around slowly and passionately. You felt his tongue slip in your mouth, softly and gently.

He pulled away from you and looked at you, smiling, his cheeks flushed. “I love you. I really do. And I know this is wrong, but I said I was here for you. And I am. So where do you wanna go? I’ll take us anywhere, just me and you. And we will figure this out. I just wanna be with you, I wanna be together.” He brushed your hair away from your face and placed his forehead on yours again.

He held you for a few minutes, the room silent. You could hear him breathing, and felt his heart beating through his chest. Everything around you was going to crumble, you knew it, but you were in the arms of the man you loved, and nothing could be better. And just then you focused in on the sound of the clock again, ticking away. Except this time, each second filled you with a feeling of hope and love. Each second knowing you were with him, and you embraced the seconds. Not wanting to lose a single one. Tick. Tick. Tick.

[joylessholland]

A little News (Oneshot?)

TOMXREADER

(743 words)   Warnings: Swearing maybe!

A/N: Hey everyone, I'm kinda in a shitty place rn so I might be taking a few days off. I’ve got a lot of stuff in the works so I hope you enjoy, what I've been posting! P.s. Yes, I got this idea from FRIENDS, bite me!

Masterlist   Request   Shard part 2   ENJOY

“Virgin screwdriver” you chime at the bartender who shrugs “So just orange juice” the man next to you laughs sipping his scotch “Yes, just orange juice” Looking over you meet two deep chocolate eyes staring at you matching a toothy grin “Now I have everything” he laughs “I’m here with friend, I’m… I don’t feel like getting shitfaced” you smile sipping your Tropicana “But if you’re not drunk how am I going to get you to go out with me” he says his sly words making you blush “I think your doing alright” snickering he waves the bartender “another juice for the lady” smiling you push a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m Tom, by the way” “Y/N” sticking out your hand he takes it “A beautiful name to match a beautiful woman” blushing again he laughs at himself “I promise I get smoother the more drinks I have”

The week you spent with Tom made you believe in love at first sight, he was smart, funny, HOT! The two of you couldn’t go three seconds without laughing. With the more time, you spent together the stronger your feelings became. Here was this amazing guy that deserved an amazing girl. Sure, you are quite the catch but you had a secret and if you really felt anything for Tom you’d tell him. Picking up your phone you slowly dial Tom’s number even though you have it saved as Tommy on your phone. Hovering over the call button you pull the shirt your wearing, his shirt up to your nose. Breathing in his smell you press the little green button. After a few rings his voice sounds on the other end of the line “Hello, darling” he said before hanging up. Confused three tiny knocks come at the door smiling you jump up and answer the door.

Pulling you into a tender kiss Tom smile “Sorry if I scared you with that” “I didn’t know you were coming over, but I’m glad you did.” Grinning brightly, he pulls a brown bag from behind his back. Smelling it before he even says it you rush away from him “You can just…put that in the kitchen” you gag as he enters “Do you not like Chinese food?” the thought of it makes you fiscally nauseous “No I, love it. Just not feeling too well today. Can we…talk?” stumbling over some words Tom waves to the couch. Taking a seat next to him you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, reaching up he gently grabs your chin. “What is it? Did I do…?” you take his hand in you and kiss it “No, you’ve done nothing wrong, you’ve been too good actually.” You smile shaking his head he brushes piece of hair from your face “I’m pregnant” body tense mouth trying to form words you drop his hand and he stands “We haven’t even” he finally says still bewildered “I’m pregnant with my brother’s baby” Tom’s eyes go wide and he lets out a quiet shriek “NO, NO not like that. Ew. I’m my brothers surrogate, his wife can’t have kids. It’s their bun just my, oven.” Hyperventilating he begins to pace “This was never supposed to happen, us. You were just some cute guy. Now I r-really think I like you.” A tear rolls down your face cursing you wipe it away just for another to fall from you’re your other eye “Oh Y/n, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Tom coos cupping your face with his palms and wiping away a tear pecking your lips “It’s just the h-hormones. You can go back to hating me” you whimper “What would make you think I hate you if anything you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met” smiling he sis next to you “Really?” “Yeah, not only are you beautiful and perfect, you’re the kindest soul I’ve ever met.” Looking at your hands you cant help the heat rising in your cheeks “You don’t have to do that” you mumble as he wraps an arm around you “I am not letting you go, we’re in this together. If you’ll have me” reaching up grabbing his collar you smash your lips together, his hand quickly finds the back of your neck and yours his thigh. Breaking the kiss you put your heads together “Tom” you whisper rubbing circles on his thigh “Yes love?” “Please get that Chinese food out of my house.”

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