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#i feel like she and greta would be good friends
jakeyt · 3 days
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Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 1 of 3)
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Covet Summary:
Life was good. No, life was great. 
Was. 
Until.
Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.
You welcomed him into your life—your home. 
Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.
At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; mutual pining; crying + feelings of sadness; arguing; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; JEALOUSYYY; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk (that, off and on, turns positive); talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ acting on them hehe); reader and jake are both STUBBORN (as always); cheating; heavy petting; oral sex m!receiving; forgetfulness; vivid imaginings of sex; talks of EMDR + the possibility of revisiting dark places; jake being the best, most helpful baby daddy there ever was (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter 11 (Part 1) Word Count: 23.3k+
a/n: sorry for the looooong ass wait. same old, same old. life is busy. (also, @joshym and i did go to our first three greta shows on THIS leg and almost died, too - soooo that got in the way lmao.)
as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3
and biiiigg thank you to @gretavangroupie for being the dopest proofreader + catching my little, dumb mistakes lmao <3
Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)
Covet Masterlist
-🌼🌼🌼-
"...covetousness, looking more at what we would have than at what we have..."
-Joseph Hall
-🌼🌼🌼-
Chapter 11:
Monday
December 5th, 2022
Staring at the ceiling seemed like the best possible option. No rush to your morning or day. Class had been canceled due to a pipe bursting in the building it was held in. And after seeing that in your notifications, you’d also had a text from Gia – telling you she had to cancel your therapy session again, still recovering from the after-effects of Covid. You couldn’t be mad at her, but admittedly, it’d made your heart fall. 
And to make your morning even better, when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the sound of Jake and Maya. The most lovely way to wake up. 
All you could hear through your door were two little fucking lovebirds out in the living room and kitchen area. . . The sound from the box fan you’d decided to keep next to your bed was your best companion in your bubble of endless sulking at Jake and Maya. 
The ceiling fan above you was great entertainment as it rotated on a perfect pattern, seemingly in slow motion. And the box fan was hitting your face with the coolest, most refreshing air flow. Offered some sort of relief, at least. 
In a moment that threatened to make you feel real sad, you felt the slightest bit free by the fans and their fresh air and consistent patterns. The serenity that rolled from them was your only saving grace. 
Today was going to be a long day. There was nothing to do. 
But, on a wild hair (and after a particularly grating laugh from Maya), you decided to text Theo and ask if he wanted to make up for yesterday's missed study session today. You didn’t know why you did it, but you did. And his text agreeing to it was instantaneous. 
Theo, 8:34 a.m.: I would love that! Does 4:00 work for you? I have to work until 3:00 :(
You took your time responding and texted back lazily, not really wanting to do anything with him, but desperately wanting to get Jake out of your mind. 
You, 8:37 a.m.: Sure! Sounds good. 
This lovely day had already started with a drag. On top of Jake and Maya talking and giggling like teenagers through your door, the sky was gray outside your window, rain having poured all night long. A light drizzle was still hitting your window. 
Your stomach rolled at the new smells of breakfast coming from the kitchen, Jake and Maya eating breakfast at your house after their fun night you’d been privy to through the walls. 
The dreary cloudiness of the December day was offset by Maya’s squeaky laughs. It kept happening – she kept laughing her ass off at him. The Jake you knew could be funny from time to time, yes, but he wasn’t a comedic genius by any means. He really wasn’t that funny. 
But, you’d learned she was adamant at being a good little textbook girlfriend. And it had become absolutely exhausting for you to experience — especially while you continued to carry her boyfriend’s baby.
Your mind got stuck in a thought when you came back to that. . . One little thing that had been bugging you, coming to your mind everyday since Maya had found out.
How in the fuck was she so okay with it? Her boyfriend living in the same house as a girl who was pregnant with his baby? How was she being so damn cool about it? 
You grumbled much louder than necessary as you yanked the charger from your phone to check your Ovia app. The photo of what the baby looked like this week was the first thing you saw. You imagined what it looked like right this second. . . . You also wondered when you’d start to feel him or her move – to your surprise you weren’t really stressed that you hadn’t felt it yet. Based on your last doctor visit, you knew the baby was completely healthy and you were feeling much better than you had been a couple weeks ago. You were trying to be logical. 
What you did let your mind wander to was what the baby was bound to look like. It was a normal thought process. Would it be a boy or girl? You didn’t even want to guess. Would it have Jake’s eyes and bright smile? You still hoped so – those continued to be the features you desired most of all. 
Even though he was not at the top of your happy list right now, you wanted him to share in this with you. It was a conundrum. And, you couldn’t deny that his gesture last night had been so incredibly sweet—the personalized cup he’d left for you, full of iced water. 
But, as soon as you went that route, your mind flicked to what hadn’t been so sweet. The not-so-sweet things your ears had been witness to right after he’d dropped the cup off at your door. 
Your moment in the kitchen, nothing but an afterthought as soon as he’d gotten to his bedroom to find his goddess of a girlfriend waiting for him. He’d claimed to want you so badly in the kitchen, only to move right on from you to her.
But you weren’t an idiot. You knew he wasn’t yours like he was Maya’s. Although, it didn’t stop your heart from tearing in your chest as you listened to him fuck the girl he truly belonged to through the walls. 
Simply put: you were just done witnessing their sex life. Done with it. 
It was disheartening and made you feel insecure and sad in ways you really didn’t need to feel. 
Your hand found your belly as you tried to get onto a happier train of thought. You read through all of your baby’s fun facts for Week 15. And, rubbing at the bare skin under your giant sleep shirt, you briefly wondered what Jake’s hands would feel like on your bare belly. Your belly, rounder every day with the baby you shared. 
You felt your hormones hype up, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes at how much of a jumbled mess your life was. 
And, while the predicament could’ve been blamed on you for breaking things off. . . You’d known, way back in August, that he was most likely bound to leave you for her. That day you’d picked him up from her house, their seamless connection had been obvious. 
What was strange was every now and then, you heard these faint words from a memory in the back of your mind. His voice. His words. And it was always him arguing it – arguing the validity of him and Maya. 
But the entire situation wouldn’t come back to you. So, you’d resolved that the words had been in a dream. They felt more like a dream. . . One you couldn’t reach back to. His stern voice telling you how wrong your assumptions were, a wavy non-memory. . . .
Though you still believed that no matter the case, whether you’d broken it off in August or waited until later, things would have turned out the same. Everything that happened was meant to happen. You’d still be pregnant and Maya would still be around. 
There was no escaping the fact that Maya was going to be around. One way or another. Around and taking away the possibility for you and Jake to ever be together again. Not that he needed that. You weren’t good for him. You’d had your solid reasons for cutting things off. 
But. . . why did those reasons seem to get hazier everyday? They were harder to place as the days went by.
You sighed deeply, deciding to focus on what else was real. . . The other things in the now that made you feel good. There was no reason to have any of that clouding your mind, to make you feel even worse than you already did. 
Getting up, you made the bed and afterwards went to undress. Get ready for the day. But, as soon as you’d stripped your shirt and were standing naked in your panties, your heart sank. You heard something through the door that you really didn’t want to fucking hear.  
“Your body looks so perfect in that, My,” Jake’s voice came through the door, sounding astonished. The cat call he made at her right after made a weight fall to the tresses of your tummy. “You are so beautiful. So damn pretty.”
And when your eyes caught sight of your bigger body— reflecting back at you through the mirror. . . . 
The tears that leaked from your eyes were expected, your heart hung so heavy in your hollow chest. Words he’d just spoken to you not so long ago as you’d worked to rid yourself of stretch marks (your creams and oils working wonders, by the way, thank god). 
“Beautiful,” he’d firmly stated while his eyes locked with yours in the mirror, just as he’d said the word. “This is beautiful. You are beautiful.”
You’d felt reassured by his words and pep talk that evening. . . It was stupid how his words had helped your mind to clear some darkness. It was stupid because obviously those words weren’t special for you. He’d say the same words to her in a heartbeat. You weren’t special.
And, no matter what he said about it not being because of the baby, it was true that he’d started being (more) attentive after finding out. The attentiveness had started almost as soon as he’d known about the baby. So, surely the words he’d said were just to perk your sad, pregnant feelings. 
He was great at being attentive. You’d learned from past experience that he was like that if you were in any sort of relationship with him, too. And Maya was in more of a relationship with him than you fucking were right now, so . . . . of course he was bound to say that shit to her.
Her obvious, natural beauty being highlighted by him any chance he got was the opposite of what you needed to hear. You knew how pretty she was. Anyone with two eyes could tell; she was built so perfectly, her face was symmetrical as could be. . . And her smile, wide and shining, with the straightest teeth. He was dating Aphrodite herself (with more voluptuous curves than Aphrodite, even) and he’d be a fool to not state the truth. 
And you. . . well, you were not built as well at the present time. And you were aware you’d hadn’t been built as well as her before the baby either. Her appearance had filled you with insecurities even then — and would continue to do so. 
Jake could talk you up as much as he wanted. But you knew it wasn’t completely genuine and was just because he felt obligated. 
You looked back to the mirror, watching to see the way your body looked as you turned to see the plump curve of your ass. Turning fully around, your hair flowed behind your shoulder as you eyed your backside. The world would never know if you were pregnant if they saw you from the back. . . You hadn’t even realized how normal the back of you still looked. All that had changed was your ass was slightly more plush with the baby weight. But, that wasn’t a bad thing. 
The longer you looked at your backside, looking like your normal, used-to-be body. . . You realized how empty you felt to look at a version of you without your baby. 
You kept your eyes trained on your body in the mirror as you spun back around on your heel to observe your front. Placing both hands on the tummy you had, your baby tucked safe as could be inside of you, you observed yourself. 
There was no denying you were bloated while Maya was perfectly fit — her boobs and ass perky while yours weren’t as much so . . .
No, your whole body was changing to accommodate the little life you were growing. But. . . as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were finding you were really okay with it. You rubbed your hands smoothly over your ever-growing stomach, tracing shapes on the smooth skin of your (now) stretch-mark-less tummy. 
Your belly was growing. . . constantly. You knew that over time, it would continue to crowd you tighter and tighter in every space you occupied. 
But. . . You were okay with that. All it meant was that the baby continued to grow and that was what mattered. . . It didn’t matter that you didn’t look like Maya. 
But, it didn’t change one thing you knew you couldn’t grow to appreciate like you had your body. You weren’t sure you’d ever be okay that Jake was with Maya. . . And that made it all feel so much worse. Because, no matter how hard you tried, you knew you’d still subconsciously compare yourself to her because of his relationship with her. 
And the sounds through the walls, both cutesy conversation and sex. . . The displays at the kitchen counter. . . It got you in your head. Because Jake. Jake was in your head. Always.
It made perfect sense that he wanted to constantly be intimate with her. They were dating. She was hot. He was more than hot. 
You grumbled, squeezing your eyelids shut to ignore the image of them fucking — it mocked you behind your eyes. Then, there they were again at the kitchen island. Jake with his head thrown back in pleasure, with Maya on her knees in front of him. . . her perfectly manicured, white pearl acrylics clutching his shirt. 
You didn’t even want to think about the scratches those nails had made on the tanned skin of his back. How she probably marked his back with her pristine, almond-shaped nails. . . 
Crazy. You were going to go crazy.
Because while you could fully understand why she’d wanted to fuck him constantly (you’d been there – still were there), you hated witnessing it in any way. Why did it have to be right next to you? Or in front of you at the kitchen counter? How in the fuck could you rid yourself of that?
Then, it dawned on you as you changed into a comfier bra. . . 
There were rules. There were apartment rules. There’d been no conversation about taking those away. Whatever happened during those months in the summer between you two was exempt. You’d been involved with each other. But now things were back to the way they’d started. No romance (just confusing, minor incidents, really). You were back to being two roommates. . . with a baby.
Those rules you’d rambled off to him in the living room all those months ago hadn’t just evaporated. And Maya. . . she wasn’t the one blatantly disrespecting the rules that had been set for so long. Jake was doing that – not Maya. She didn’t know about them. But Jake sure as hell did. You were sure they were still posted on the kitchen fridge, under schedules and shit. Right under his nose and he didn’t even fucking care. And he wasn’t following them worth shit. 
Technically, those still stood. . . right? Had to. A baby made between you two didn’t eliminate them. It actually made you feel more validated since you carried his baby now. You were the one literally living everyday as a pregnant woman for his baby. . . The least he could do was not fuck his stupid ass girlfriend on the kitchen counter. Or right next door. 
And, in no time, Maya was sitting at the back of your mind. Didn’t care about her. She didn’t matter right now. No, it was Jake who was making you so mad you couldn’t see straight. . . What the fuck was his problem?
-🌼🌼🌼-
Later in the day, after allowing yourself a little nap after a nice long shower, you got ready for your study sesh with Theo.
You took extra time on your hair and makeup — decided you wanted to look good. Focus on something – someone else. You were desperate to get your mind off of Jake.
Truth be told, you’d accelerated at hyperspeed to a raging emotion since you’d undressed and stood in your room, being forced to listen to him go on about how beautiful his girlfriend was. 
And, it just got worse as you had to wait far too long to hear little giggles and goodbyes fade out of the apartment. Finally, at Maya’s departure around 9:30, Jake’s door had closed . . . 
By that point, you’d had plenty of time to stew and ponder. You’d pondered multiple ways Jake was pissing you the fuck off. . . Some, very valid. . . others, not even close (you were hormonal, okay?!). You’d piled on more reasons in the shower to be irate with him, too, aggressively shampooing your scalp. 
You had to admit, riding a wave of emotion over Jake that didn’t leave you in a mess of tears was actually pretty fun. . . 
You’d let your mind wander down aimless paths. By the time you were getting dressed and ready for studying, you were fuming. So much frustration with him. And right now? Jake’s selfish, crude behavior had your full attention. . . 
Admittedly, you knew nearly everything you were feeling was thanks to a surge in pregnancy hormones. Those super-human hormones were making you see only red at the thought of him. And, ridiculously, you didn’t try to tame your thoughts. No, you decided to just ride. Wanted to ride the winding rollercoaster of emotion for as long as you could. It felt good to just be angry with him. 
Was that a pregnant woman thing? Did it make you a bad person? 
. . . Because, well, even if it did make you a bad person, you didn’t care.
But. . . As you finished your light mauve lipliner, layering on chapstick, you realized maybe you should care. Not for Jake’s sake. For the baby’s sake, you didn’t want to put any unnecessary stress on the sweet love growing in your tummy. 
So, you’d devised your plan. A plan to get your mind off Jake. Something to maybe piss him off a little. God only knew how he’d pissed you off time and again. He needed a taste.
You just needed a solid distraction. And what better distraction than another man to prove to Jake that you could play at a game. 
Just because you were pregnant didn’t mean you couldn’t do as he did. . . You know. . . .mess around like him. How he performed his little stunts for God and everybody to see and hear. . . Would he be okay with it if you did the same? It seemed like an interesting experiment.
The spiral of negative emotion towards him had started with how selfish he was being with the apartment rules. Because, yes you were just sick and tired of Jake and Maya flaunting their shit. That was the root of it. And when your mind had wandered just far enough to retaliate. . . you’d decided to push in to the urge. 
You wanted your own thing to show off. . . Your own person to be obnoxious and publicly affectionate with you. And you had the perfect person in mind. . . someone who’d shown interest time after time. . . Going all the way back to sophomore year of high school. The very same person who was about to spend the next few hours with you to study.
Though, you couldn’t help but wonder. . . Even with how interested he’d been before, would he mind your pregnancy? 
You figured to test it; there was no use in trying to hide your round belly from your (admittedly cute) study buddy. Hopefully he’d find you, as a pregnant woman, just as appealing as he did before he knew you were pregnant. 
You’d decided on your dark brown jumpsuit, which complimented your body just right. With the weather being chillier, you decided on a tight white mock neck underneath. The jumpsuit was your new favorite piece of clothing. You hadn’t worn it out yet, but it actually fit your changing body well. You’d ordered a few failed attempts at a jumper like Gia’s, and you’d finally found one that fit your rapidly transforming body. The material of the suit was soft and stretchy, meaning it would be a go-to for the next several months. 
It wasn’t even maternity – that was your favorite part! Outfits like the one you were eyeing yourself in kept you from having to wear clothes made exclusively for pregnant women. In fact, due to its incredibly flexible nature, you already had a few other colors by the same brand in your Amazon cart. . . Cute, comfy, and not made for pregnant ladies only.
The idea of wearing maternity clothing was still something you were warming up to. . .  You’d discovered on BabyTok that a lot of expecting mothers hated wearing maternity clothes. The general consensus (that you agreed with) was that it made them feel even more ostracized when they already felt like your body wasn’t your own. 
After having the full ensemble put together, you turned to glimpse at your ass in the suit, adjusting your gold jewelry as you turned back around to face the front. 
You were beyond happy with what you saw. 
Adorable and sexy all in one outfit. Your curves were being hugged in all of the right places: boobs, belly, butt. And, even then, the jumper still left some mystery with its looser parts. . . You felt confident. 
The white sneakers and white mini crew socks added the ideal final touch, helping you to feel even more comfortable and excited by your outfit with the other trendy addition. (Thank you, blessed Target and your off-brand tennis shoes.)
The thought made you momentarily think about making a Target baby registry when the time came. Would Jake want to be involved in that? You wanted him to be. . . Ugh. You actually hated how badly you wanted him to be in the middle of all of it with you. 
You were supposed to be mad at him!
As you slung your belt bag over your chest, you huffed at the thought, tightening your bag a little to balance just right over your bigger breasts. And, as you did so, your mind started drifting. Drifting to the same eyes you always had waiting for you at the back of your mind. The eyes you wanted looking at you, admiring you. . . They weren’t Theo’s. Not at all. These eyes were Amber-brown and darkened naturally when they took you in (rather, they used to darken at you).
Then, there were the calloused hands you wanted to meet you at the end of the day, in your bedroom, to help you take off this outfit. Piece. By. Piece.
You growled to yourself, readjusting the belt bag once more to not be so tight over your boobs. 
Damn that fucker. Jake was like a thorn in your side—making his way into thoughts of yours without giving you a chance to combat it.
God, you just needed to focus on another man. Jake had Maya. You needed someone, too. Right? It was going to help. It would be an attempt, at the very least, to get your mind off of your baby’s (smoking hot) daddy. 
Once more, you eyed your outfit – your little round belly, in particular. You loved how it stretched the material at your waist just enough to see there was a baby in there. . . your baby. How could you be so proud of a life that you hadn’t even held in your arms yet?
Your phone dinged from where it laid on your comforter. You walked to check it, finding a quick text from Theo to ask if you wanted him to pick you up. And. . . you agreed . . . It was the perfect start to your plan.  
As soon as you sent it, though, you suddenly felt a solid moment of pause at the idea of dating another man while being pregnant with Jake’s baby. 
You didn’t want anyone else. Really. You knew it. Your body grew instantly uncomfortable at the idea of someone else. You craved one person in particular and it was not Theo. . . but who’s to say it couldn’t be Theo? Or any other man, for that matter? It could be. It could. . .
If Jake was able to move on from you, you could move the fuck on from him, too. 
So, with that thought, you ignored the pull towards Jake. Didn’t need him infiltrating your fresh state of mind.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Once Theo had texted that he was about ten minutes away, you decided you’d make your way out to the living room. 
But, of course, the other occupant of the living room at that moment was someone you did not intend on seeing. Didn’t want to see him. Jake, sitting on the couch watching some documentary. 
He wasn’t wearing PJ’s on this gloomy, rainy Sunday afternoon, but rather a sexy ass outfit (What was he dressed up for? Could you not catch a fucking break?!). 
Looking at him, all you could imagine was being held close enough to feel him hard, against your ass, hand cupping your breast just like you’d needed so badly. . . 
Last night, he’d made you feel so many emotions. Two of which being seriously intense longing and lust. And he’d seemed to feel the exact same way. . . 
. . .Only to go back to his room and make it no secret that he was fucking Maya into his mattress and not you. 
He offered to come to you, y/n. . . a voice whispered, sounding like Elsie. It was something she would say. But, you already knew what you’d tell her. It was what you’d told him and what you’d been telling yourself. 
It wasn’t right. Last night had been enough to make that apparent to you. . . and hopefully him, too. It would be a mistake and it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all to do that shit–even if the other person in the equation was someone you despised as much as you were growing to despise Maya.
But, alas, you had no ground to stand on. . . He wasn’t your boyf—. 
Well, yeah, actually. You did have some ground. You would pull the motherfucking Baby Mama card if you had to.
You yanked a Canada Dry from the fridge before going to wait in the doorway for Theo. 
Back to square one of being pissed with Jake.  Hearing Maya outright crying and moaning his name repeatedly felt blasphemous (dramatic, but whatever). . . You were even more tired of hearing him – the same moans and groans that had once been your favorite sound. . . . You were just damn tired of it.
As you popped the can open to take a decent swig, you worked to convince yourself that it mostly annoyed you. Just because it kept you from getting enough sleep for you and a baby. But you knew, quite frankly, it was because you cared more than you should have about it. 
What you didn’t care for was hearing said baby’s father fuck another woman any and every way she wanted. 
Not when there was a time it had been you instead. 
You let your eyes travel to him, sitting on the couch. The profile of his face was all you could see. The sharp outline of his jaw. . . The straight bridge of his nose, begging to be traced by your finger. His pretty mouth, lips slightly open before he licked them in anticipation at the screen in front of him. 
Had he not noticed you? Or was he purposefully ignoring you? Whatever. It didn’t matter.
Even though it was wrong, you weren’t able to help the way your brain spiraled at the thoughts of endless summer days as you surveyed him. You thought of those blissful days where it had been you he was fucking so well you saw stars over and over again. . . leaving you with a dull ache between your legs from how fucking good he’d given it. . .
Ugh! No. You rubbed your thighs together, working to alleviate the thoughts that had your panties getting slightly damp. Motherfucker. 
Because, again, everything you’d had to witness between him and Maya and he hadn’t even cared. . . . fucking jackass. Acted like he cared so much that day in the kitchen. Didn’t want to let go of what you’d had. But then he’d moved on to what had been patiently waiting for him. . . So fucking soon after. You hadn’t had time to catch your breath.
Truly. Fuck Jake Kiszka. The butterflies that jittered in your belly at your inappropriate thoughts were simply confused as hell. . . 
“How you feeling today?” He asked, not looking away from the television, definitely sensing your presence behind him. 
God. . . stop acting like you care.
“Fine,” you plainly stated, tone clipped, rubbing your belly briefly.
You looked away as soon as he turned his head in your direction, avoiding eye contact with him. But you could feel his eyes piercing burning holes in you from the couch. You busied yourself on your phone, ignoring him. You checked your Ovia app for the second time today. 
“You sure about that?” He asked, his voice getting buried in the back of your mind as your eyes traced the new baby facts again. 
Size of an avocado. Legs were officially longer than arms. . . could bend his or her knees and elbows now. . . Baby might be growing hair (would it be his color? Or yours?). . . Baby’s heart is still under construction but capable of pumping 25 quarts of blood a day. . .
You realized then and there that, in spite of how pissed you were with him, you wanted him to live all of this in real time with you – wanted to tell him all of these new things about the baby.
“Baby is the size of an avocado today,” you meekly stated, not wanting to get all mushy when you could have slapped him and felt fine with it. 
“What?” 
“What do you mean, what? I just told you what,” you snapped your eyes over to him on the couch, but realized he was standing and gathering his bag of almonds and glass of water to head over your way. 
You moved closer to the door, not caring to smell hints of sandalwood or vanilla or citrus or amber . . . whatever the fuck he’d chosen to use to smell sexy today. 
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head on his way to the kitchen. 
You followed every one of his movements; watched him put the almonds in the pantry, then eyed his firm grip on the glass cup as he finished the drink off in one final sip. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he closed his eyes to savor it. You saw as a few drops from the drink slipped from the glass, down his chin, and all the way to his chest. Damn. Right down the middle of his perfectly toned and tanned pectoral muscles. When he went to wash it in the sink, you observed closely as he swiped under his plump bottom lip with his thumb to catch the remnants of water. 
In no time, he was done washing the cup and facing you again. A tiny grin quirked on his lips and you realized it was probably because you still had your mouth open watching him. Quickly, you shut it and raised a brow at him. 
“Don’t smile at me.” You sounded ridiculous, but you were trying to cover up your moment of staring at him. Didn’t want to seem weak.
“I apologize for smiling,” he responded, his eyes rolling with the words the slightest bit. “What were you saying before?”
“You seriously already forgot?”
“No. God,” he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was trying to spark the conversation to life again.”
“By acting like you forgot what I said?” Damn it all to hell – what was wrong with you?
“Why are you so upset?”
“I’m not,” you retorted, knowing better. You were upset. . . not about this, in particular. Just him. Just upset with him. 
“Yes you are.”
“Stop,” you bit back, not wanting him to see through you. “If you would have just listened the first time and not asked me ‘what’, then we would already be done talki–,” growling with a huff, you frustratedly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “I blatantly said that it was about the baby. You knew what I was talking about,” you looked down at your phone, doom scrolling on the app – looking at past and future weeks in your pregnancy. “Just listen better next time and you won’t have to talk to me for so long.”
Okay, now you were letting off that you were weak. You sounded pathetic. Were you really feeling insecure about that at the root of it all? Did you feel like he didn’t want to talk to you? 
If you were being honest, you did feel like a burden and the tears accumulating in the back of your throat were proof of it. Part of you felt completely inadequate and like he couldn’t care. But. . . if logic was to speak and remind of what was real, you would realize he was the one that initiated the conversation in the first place. Of course he wanted to talk to you. . . 
Or was he just being nice?
“Goddamn, yes ma’am. Sorry for my lack of rapt attention and preparedness. I’ll pay better attention next time,” he grit back. “Jesus Christ.”
You couldn’t blame his frustration. There was no denying you sounded crazy. This was becoming something it didn’t need to because you were grumpy with him and just generally hormonal. 
Looking down, you thought you’d offer some sort of apology. There was no use in being completely unreasonable. “I’m sorry I’m being so moody and grumpy. These hormones are all over the place,” you reasoned, not wanting to divulge your complete irritation with him you’d sat on all afternoon. 
You saw him move from your peripheral. Quickly, you came to terms with the fact that he was coming close enough for you to smell him, despite your efforts to avoid him. And if he didn’t smell more incredible than any other man to ever exist. . . fuck.
You looked up from where you’d started checking your nails, not able to deny his closeness. It spiked your heart rate. He was leaning his back against the counter, right next to where you stood by the door. Personal space was a foreign concept, apparently.
His eyes drifted over you, your skin flaming at the attention from him. His gaze skated over your figure – no doubt he was taking in the outfit. You felt pretty fuckin’ hot. This was the first time you’d felt genuinely pretty in a long time. You could only hope he saw you and thought so, too. 
“You look fucking—wow,” he commented, his voice low enough for you to feel his words. “I can’t put it into words. But, damn, this outfit,” he smirked, nodding his head at you before letting his eyes land on your round belly with a soft smile before he looked at you. “I like how the baby looks in it, too.”
You blushed. That was sweet as hell. 
“Thanks,” you sunk your eyes into his before letting your eyes rake his figure. If he could do it, you would, too. 
He looked fine as hell in his all black outfit with that damn mustache coming in again. . . You could think of a few things that could settle an argument or two. You thought of him exposing your bare breast last night, his dick hard and pressing into your ass. . . . Wanted to feel him grind against you right now. Quite frankly, looking at him, all you wanted to do was lay across the kitchen counter and let him –. 
No. 
That was the same counter he’d betrayed your rules on. Dammit. You were so mad at him. Was it legitimate? You couldn’t tell. Hormones and shit. 
The knock against the door was what broke you from your reverie, eyes having been locked on him for far too long. 
“You goin’ somewhere?” He asked, folding his arms tighter across his chest. You didn’t look at his biceps or the jewelry on his hands and wrists. Didn’t think of the way his earring hung just right for you to see it through the thick tresses of his long, wavy hair. 
Instead, you took those thoughts and turned them into another woman moaning his name. 
Goddamn, y/n. He hasn’t fucking cheated on you. For God’s sake. Slow your damn roll.
“Yes,” you stated, moving to check your makeup in the living room mirror. When you reaffirmed why you felt so damn confident today, you unlocked the door, opening it so Jake could see for himself. He’d moved from his space at the counter, behind you, out of curiosity. 
“Hey, gorgeous,” Theo’s grin took up his entire boyish face, his fresh haircut complimented his square jawline well. His excited energy fed the tense air perfectly. Just like you wanted. 
“Oh. . . study buddy. . . I remember you,” Jake commented behind you. His tone was almost mocking, challenging the situation. “Making flashcards or some shit, I presume?”
“Depends, man. Might have other goals in mind for today. . .,” Theo winked in Jake’s direction, then yours. You couldn’t help the smirk that fell across your features at his response to Jake. “Little Miss Hot Thang here still needs to go on a date with me like she promised. Maybe we can talk about that, too,” he winked at you. Your eyes smiled, but your lips couldn’t quite reach them.
Little Miss Hot Thang? What?
Though, you had to applaud Theo, he was playing into what you’d wanted perfectly – his little crush on you was shining through. The little cocky lilt in his tone that seemed to be consistently present made your skin crawl just a bit, but you were mostly used to it after all of the studying and times you’d sat next to him in class. 
Right now, you only cared to make a point to Jake, though, and Theo’s tone was a non-issue. Though, you hoped his words were clicking with Jake like you wanted them to. 
“Oh, yeah? Wanna take her out on a date?” Jake snipped from behind you.
Your eyes twinkled at the sound of his response, tummy somersaulting at the edge in his voice. 
It was like a scene playing out exactly as you’d want it to as the viewer. . . The only thing that sucked, though, was that even with the two handsome men standing on either side of you, your body was still only pulling you to the wrong one. The handsome one behind you, dressed in all black. The same one smelling like the most incredible mixture of sandalwood, vanilla, and amber. You caught a whiff of something new, too. . . A different cologne? 
You wanted to sink into him. . . let him hold you again, just like he had on Friday.
You did not feel pulled at all to the one in front of you, dressed in his dark wash skinny jeans and a Pratt Football Alumni sweatshirt. The man you didn’t want, that you were about to flirt with even more. It made you less and less excited by the minute for what you were egging on. . . Did you even want it? Was this a stupid idea? You were simply encouraging it for the sole purpose of giving Jake a taste of his own medicine.
Was it worth it?
It made you question if you were sure you wanted to continue entertaining it if you knew you didn’t actually want him.
“Of course I want to take her on a date. You kidding?” Theo smiled, not assuming anything but the best of the situation, his eyes finding yours flirtatiously. “Who wouldn’t?”
You gave a sideways grin to him, feeling unsure of it all.
“And you’re sure she wants it, too?” Jake asked, challenging him with a scoff in his tone.
Suddenly irked by his questioning, you turned your head to the side to address him, still not fully looking at him. You relied solely on your turned head for him to acknowledge that you were speaking to him. 
“Not your damn business, Jake,” you snapped, contemplating your next words. “But, yes, I would love to go on a date with him, if you must know. Just like old times.” 
You tacked the last words onto the end for extra emphasis. . . . For extra emphasis on the web of fibs you were delicately weaving.
The words made Theo’s smile grow as he leaned towards you, tucking a lock of freshly curled hair behind your ear. 
The action made your heart rate pick up – which made you think. Perhaps there was hope you could string this along—just for long enough to shut Jake out. If the tall blonde man was making your heart rate speed up now, he would continue to do that, right? Maybe this revisited ‘romance’ would actually turn into more. . .
Ugh. But was that what you wanted?
The answer was more than likely a big fat no. Fuck no. 
Though, you did like what it was doing to Jake. Especially when you looked over your shoulder and saw the pink tinge that had enveloped the apples of his cheeks, how his jaw was set in tight tension. His eyes were trained on Theodore, observing him. Judging him. And when you saw the sudden flare of his nostrils, you knew. 
This was making him angry. You’d go as far to say jealous, even. Could it be?
And as horrible as you knew it was, it felt way too fucking good. 
“Just like old times?” He questioned, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at the man in the doorway.
“We dated in high school,” Theo answered for you, completely oblivious of Jake’s irritation towards him. For all he knew, Jake was just an asshole. Was he even picking up on Jake’s mood?
Better that he didn’t. You didn’t want him thinking there was anything more between you and your roommate; even though the baby growing in your belly said much differently. But you were sure Jake’s little perturbed act was something Theo would eventually catch onto. . . . so, you tried to get him off of the subject one more time. 
Matching his level of irritation seemed the only possible solution to shut him up. 
You turned fully around to face the long-haired man. His arms were crossed, hands wrapped tightly around his biceps and squeezing intermittently. You observed his handsome features for maybe one second too long, but you couldn’t help it. The beauty mark on his right cheek, along with a couple of tiny scars under his left cheek bone caught your eye – parts of his face you’d memorized months ago. His tanned skin was the perfect canvas for every single precious mark it honed. Would your child have any of the same freckles he did?
Not letting yourself get too lost in that devastating train of thought, you tried to catch his eyes and to no avail. He was hard pressed to intimidate your study buddy or some shit. 
When you cleared your throat to gain his attention, his hard gaze finally landed on you rather than the poor, unassuming man in Pratt gear behind you. But. . . . you lost all ammunition to say anything hateful to him when his stare penetrated your own. The way his eyes bore into yours made your breath catch in your throat.
You were right before – you could read him well. And while he was obviously angry and (oddly) jealous. . . . you also sensed a tinge of hurt behind his darkened irises. You’d seen his eyes falter like this before. . . the way he would try to hide the hurt behind a sort of tough act. 
“Jake,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. You didn’t know what you were trying to communicate to him, but you had a feeling he’d catch on to whatever it was. 
He didn’t flinch away. No, he let you touch him, leaning into it the slightest bit. His eyes glimmered for the briefest moment, holding yours. . . . . Before he suddenly was moving away. You were losing him. And, instantly, you knew that the impending fling behind you was definitely not what you wanted.
God. What had your life come to?
“Alright, well, so be it,” the stark tone in his voice, along with the way his eyes stayed trained on yours, made your skin prick with goosebumps and all of your senses flare. “I suppose you’re right. Nothing you do truly is my business. Just as mine isn’t yours, right?”
Thankfully, his biting words made your skin flame once more in aggravation. You were mad at him. Right? You could fight those words.
You wanted to keep whatever upper hand you’d created, so you had to be quick with your next words. And actions. 
You squinted at Jake, inhaling deeply and pursing your lips. Then, without taking another second to think it through, you turned once more. Leaning into Theo, you let your hand lay flat on his buff chest. The blonde then placed a sure hand on your hip, looking down at you with a raised brow and smirk. You sort of enjoyed it, but you also felt a little icky about it. Luckily, you knew how to keep face. 
Looking over your shoulder once more to say something, the words caught in your throat when you saw his fists balled up, nails surely digging tiny abrasions in the palms of his hands.
You would venture to say his current feelings teetered on the edge of how you felt towards him and his girlfriend. 
Feels great, doesn’t it, Jake? 
Yeah. . . . . You were completely sure you wanted to play this little game. With the way he was reacting, you were getting curious to see just how far it could go. . . 
From behind, you heard Jake shuffling away, his door closing a little louder than normal. A slam, yes, but not enough to alert Theo to anything going awry. The tall man’s blue-green eyes were sincerely sparkling as he grabbed hold of your hand gently.
-🌼🌼🌼-
You remembered you wanted to talk to Jake about the rules as you pulled out of the complex in Theo’s Mustang. His mouth was going a million miles a minute with shit you didn’t care much about. So, you used his personally-created distraction to your advantage and decided to text Jake about wanting to discuss something with him.
Might as well catch him while the fire’s hot. Maybe he’ll actually pay attention.
It took him a few minutes to respond. It made you momentarily question sending it to him after you’d just irked him as you had at the apartment. 
Jake, 3:05 p.m.: oh. So you’re planning on coming back tonight, huh? 
Your heart jumped in your throat. Motherfucker. 
You, 3:05 p.m.: We are purely studying tonight. 
Jake, 3:06 p.m.: is that what lover boy wants? A ‘pure’ little study date? 
You glanced over at your classmate as your senses flamed with Jake’s words. Fuck him and his invasive questions. You locked your phone. 
It was a good damn time to finally look up and acknowledge the other person in the car. You figured this, because as soon as you looked over to Theo, he was waiting on you, trying to include you in conversation.  Just at that moment. 
“Don’t you agree?”
Shit. Agree with what? You’d totally tuned him out.
“About. . .?” You trailed, feigning interest and trying to act like you were thinking of all of the things he’d said. “I’m still stuck on what you said earlier about. . .,” your eyes glanced at his Pratt sweatshirt. You cleared your throat, “About school.”
God, that was a step too far. Brave? Stupid? You didn’t even know if he’d mentioned school! Fuck.
But, you were relieved when he laughed, nodding his head as he went ahead at a green light. The smell of his Black Ice car freshener was almost too much for your pregnant super-senses. 
“Yeah, me too. That professor is crazy!” He said, going ahead as the light changed. “No, but do you agree that this test is going to be a piece of cake?”
Wow. So he really had spent the past several minutes talking about school and a test? Shit. You had imagined there’d been more. Didn’t know why. It was Theo. He had a one-track-mind. He was all about school and Pratt. 
Meanwhile, you weren’t even interested enough in school to carry a fully thought-out conversation about it, much less drone on and fucking on about it. 
“Oh, yeah,” you knit your brows. “Piece of cake. We’ve got it in the bag.”
“So. . . you sure you don’t want to make tonight our date then?” He proposed, a blush rising in your cheeks with the lift of his brow. Oh.
Answer was. . . Yes. You were sure you didn’t want to go on a date tonight. Didn’t want to go on one at all, if you were honest. Or did you? With the way the blush hadn’t left your cheeks yet, you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about it at the moment. 
It was confusing as hell. But, you’d dug your own grave. You had led him on. 
Momentarily, you contemplated it. . . If you did it tonight, would that help you to get it over with sooner? Be rid of this guy who’d annoyed you more often than not in recent times? 
Ugh. No. You couldn’t let it end after one night. You needed to drag it out. 
“Why don’t we start with some studying and then we can talk a little more on that?” You tried, voice cracking a bit on the last word, feeling utterly unsure of it all. 
“So . . . .,” he trailed, waiting for you to continue. 
“So, I’d say we will find another night to have our date. Make it special,” you slapped a sweet grin on. Make it special? God, shut up, y/n. “I promise.”
His eyes shone, hand coming to grip yours. Fuck, yours were clammy as hell. 
“Yeah, special,” he enthused, your stomach dropping at the word. “I like the sound of that, y/n.” 
-🌼🌼🌼-
When you were finally home from your excursion, you could have sighed with the deepest relief. You’d have been lying if you said your social battery wasn’t drained. You’d worked to keep up with the flirtiness, acting flirty even when it felt completely unauthentic. 
But. . . Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a moment to sigh with relief, being immediately met by Jake. Still awake and reading a book in the armchair. Didn’t want to make him suspicious of you being turned off by Theo in any way. You needed to convince him that you were interested in the jock. 
You figured you might as well start off strong. 
“I really like him,” you breathed the supposed lie, not able to contain the eye roll threatening to expose your charade.
Jake hmphed from his spot in the chair, not even caring to look up from his book. “Good for you, y/n.” His tone was a grumble as he never lifted his eyes from the page, in fact turning to the next page, more invested in the literature than you. 
You turned to hang your belt bag next to the door, swishing your leftover Pink Drink after the bag was put away. When you walked to put the drink on a coaster in the living room, you looked over to Jake, who was still busy reading. Even though he seemed to be ignoring you, you suddenly wanted to spend some time with him. But, before you could get situated on the couch, you decided on going to your room to change. 
As comfortable as your outfit had been, it still wasn’t sweatpants. And the basket of freshly clean clothes you’d left on your floor held your comfiest pair of sweatpants and your biggest Pratt sweatshirt, made of the softest cotton material. You were quickly unlacing your tennis shoes and stripping out of your jumper and undershirt and bra (good god, so uncomfortable). Once you were in the set of comfy clothes, you felt instant relief. 
You’d kept your socks on, feeling abnormally chilly. December’s evening weather was still sticking to your skin. It was fucking nice to not be burning up hot. 
With one last glance to the side, you  grabbed your own book to read, sitting on your bedside table. One from your recent night out with Jake. You figured it wouldn’t hurt you to sit with him in the living room and read at the same time as he did. It had the potential to be a nice, calm setting. 
Just before you could make it out of your bedroom, you went to grab your fluffy blanket from your bed – only to find Stevie snoozing away on it. Your heart swelled at her deep sleeping breaths, completely at peace. Being as you were not about to wake her, you just decided to head to the living room and use the blanket you kept in there. 
Water was your first priority before a blanket, though. Your mouth had turned to sandpaper in the time between leaving the living room and walking from your room, back to the common area. You were always thirsty these days. 
Though, as you went to grab your giant Stanley from where you’d left it earlier, you noticed it freshly washed next to the sink. What. . .? You hadn’t–? Jake must’ve done it. 
Your heart tripped over itself. Why did he. . .? Finding your voice, you asked him. “Did you wash my Stanley?”  
“Yeah, figured you’d be thirsty when you got home,” he called from the living room, just loud enough for you to hear in the quietness of your apartment. “You fill that giant ass thing up at least twice a day and down it like it’s nothing. And I hadn’t seen you fill it up even once before you left.”
But. . . . he’d been so angry when you’d left earlier? Why was he taking care of you and your things?
“I filled it up when I came out this morning,” you clarified, shocked that he’d noticed your routine of sorts. “But I didn’t get to finish it before I left. Got left on the counter for a Canada Dry,” you made a noise of realization, thinking how delicious one of those would taste right now, too.
When you went to grab the ice cold can, you got the most stereotypical pregnant girl craving. Ice cream. 
And. . . you had absolutely zero of it. 
“Dammit,” you said to yourself, shutting the freezer door in quiet resolution. In slight frustration, you huffed, blowing hair off your face. 
You’d survive. Still really freakin’ sad, though. You could feel the pout making its way to your features all on its own – you couldn’t control it. The cravings came with a vengeance in recent weeks. 
When you got to the living room, you fluffed the cozy blanket that you kept on the back of the couch, wrapping it around your shoulders. And in no time, you were sitting, tucking yourself as far into the couch as possible, making sure to lean against the arm of the couch that allowed you to see Jake. 
What if you wanted to talk to him about something you learned about the baby as you read? You’d want to see his face to talk to him. And what was wrong with liking a nice view as you read?
As soon as you’d snuggled in with a pillow tucked just right behind your back to support you, you went to open your book, only to find a disappointing reality. 
There was no book. No Stanley filled with water. Just the Canada Dry. You’d left your book and your Stanley (still unfilled, forgot to do that, too, you thought) on the kitchen counter. 
“Fuck!” You griped to yourself, letting your head fall, placing your hands over your face. You’d just gotten comfy and now you’d have to get up again. Getting comfortable was becoming a chore. 
The tears were coming. Dammit. 
But, in almost no time, you felt a presence next to you, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder.
“What’s going on?” Jake asked, nearby and your ears instantly tuning in to him, head still in your hands. 
“Pregnant brain,” you mumbled, the words smooshed into an incoherent response. 
“What?” 
You sighed, bringing your hands to your cheeks to wipe any tears that might have made tracks. Luckily, most had fallen into your hands to avoid a mess of mascara. Though, Jake’s thumb came up briefly to wipe just under your right eye. His finger on your skin, so gentle and making your heart race. 
There was no resentment in his eyes when you briefly caught them before looking away. It was as though earlier had never happened. No anger or irate energy between you two. Just compassion coming directly from the man next to you. 
Then, his hand was gone, his arms crossing over the thigh, as he took a knee next to the couch. He had leaned in close enough that your head was fuzzy with the scent of him—he smelled so delicious. Although, that new fragrance to his cologne you’d smelled earlier. . . it was there again. What was it? 
“New cologne?” You questioned, sniffing the onslaught of tears away.
“Doesn’t matter right now.”
“I wanna know.”
“Answer me first,” he insisted. “Why are you crying?”
You growled, irritated with his insistence. Looking over towards him, you locked eyes with his. Your heart leapt at how his eyes gazed back at yours. . . His stare was unwavering, showing just how much he cared.
“My pregnant brain,” you tried again, grumbling. The pouting still couldn’t be helped. “I forgot my fucking Stanley and book in the kitchen. And I just got comfortable,” you huffed, going to throw the blanket off from around you. 
Jake’s hand came up, holding yours to stop you. “No, you stay. Let me get it.”
You didn’t have it in you to argue and not having to move sounded nice. His hand on yours also had you completely frozen. “Okay,” you whispered, eyes growing wet again at his kindness. 
A loose grin spread across his pretty lips and he was gone at a moment’s notice to grab your things for you. 
Your tummy fluttered at him, completely in awe of his gesture. Though, you shouldn’t have been. He kept doing things like this. Little things to help and show he cared. . .
Why were you upset with him again?
“Did you forget to fill the Stanley?” Jake questioned from the kitchen, your head snapping in his direction.
The tears were back, for God knows why. “Yes,” you cried. “I’m sorry you have to—.”
“Why are you sorry, honey?” he responded, inflection showing nothing but a genuine desire to help. “I’m here to help you. I told you this.”
Yeah, because Maya wants you to.
Aaand you were annoyed again.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, checking your less than pretty manicure. You could stand to have another done soon, the chipped black paint on your nails having seen better days.
In no time, he was walking back to you with the Stanley full and your book in his other hand. He was wrinkling his eyebrows, one raised a bit more than the other in curiosity at you. You felt how your face was still reading unhappiness. Thanks to your lovely thought process. But, then, your tummy rumbled (loudly), reminding you of the other reason you were cranky.
You flushed, embarrassed by the sound. 
God, be a little more subtle, sweet baby. Please.
It had turned into even more than ice cream, though. You realized you hadn’t eaten since the morning and you were feeling it now. The ice cream didn’t even sound overwhelmingly delicious anymore. . . all you could do now was imagine how incredible a giant bowl of mixed melons would be with an even bigger bowl of pasta. Any kind. Every kind. 
Damn. You really were going to have to get off this couch. Jake was not about to be your errand boy – you weren’t going to let him do that shit. It made you feel really bad to make him do all of the work and running around when you were fully capable. 
You figured it would be best to save his willingness to help until you were further along. Lord knew he would get tired of this ‘helping’ thing eventually.  
“You hungry?” He asked, sitting on the couch, alongside your stretched out legs. “I can get you whatever you–.”
“No,” you shook your head, moving to get up, managing to flip the blanket off of you this time without him stopping you. “I’m not going to make you do that shit.”
“You’re not making me do anything, y/n,” he said, emphasizing his kind words with another grin, this time laughing a bit to show his beautiful smile. “I want to do whatever I can to–.”
“Jake. That’s not fair to you,” you said, swinging your legs off the couch, abandoning the pillow supporting your achy back. This time, he did stop you again, placing his hand on your thigh, as soon as you’d been sitting next to him. His palm rested dangerously close to a place he shouldn’t be close to. 
But, he wasn’t moving his hand and you sure as hell weren’t feeling an urge to move it. It felt so good to have him touching you again. And when he started rubbing gentle circles into the thickness of your thighs through your baggy sweatpants. . . Ugh.
Your mind flashed back to the kitchen, how he’d held you so close and massaged your breast. . . . the same way he was now massaging your thigh. 
You were going to light on fire. . . with absolutely zero complaints. You’d die happy if you were set to flame by his touch alone. 
Goddamn, y/n. Get it the fuck together.
Before you could immerse yourself any further into your thought process, your stomach made yet another animalistic sound you couldn’t control.
“God,” you shuddered, closing your eyes with a shake of your head. “That’s embarrassing.”
“How is it embarrassing?” He flashed his eyes at you, a dimple in his cheek with his words.
“Well, apparently the baby is just feeling the need to expose me from the inside out,” you complained, placing a hand to your heated forehead. “I can’t even fib and say I’m fine because you’d know I’m bullshitting you, thanks to our child.”
He chuckled, a sexy rasp to it. “I’m glad she’s exposing you because it helps me to know how I can assist you.”
“No, Jake,�� you groaned, rubbing your temples with your pointer finger and thumb. “I already told you. . . I don’t want you being unfair to yourself. Don’t hyperextend yourself on my behalf.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat, contemplating what he wanted to say next as he clutched firmly to your thigh, with his other hand now holding his chin. Tapping a couple times with his pointer, he let go of his face and your leg at the same time. Your leg automatically felt the loss, in sudden desperate need of his touch again. 
Leaning forward, elbows pressed to his firm thighs, you watched as the muscles in his back flexed so exquisitely through his favorite thin, white, cut up t-shirt. Same one he’d been wearing so long ago, the night in the bathroom. . . when Theo had been over for a stupid fucking study session. Studying had been utterly fucking pointless that night after how Jake had handled you in the bathroom. 
You shook yourself of the memory, already feeling yourself beginning to pulse with desire at the memory alone. How did he have this motherfucking hold on you? No other man had ever done this to you. Was it because you were carrying his baby? Did that make it inherently worse or some shit? 
Watching carefully, you noticed how his arms filled out the sleeves more-so now than they had before. . . the sight quickly brought you back to the present. He’d slowly put on a little bit of weight, in all of the best areas possible. 
Happier than before, perhaps? 
You licked your lips absently, appreciating his figure while he was so near to you. 
And, as if on cue, your stomach started to grumble again. Fuck. Mocking you and your starving ass. . . suddenly hungry for much more than fruit and pasta and motherfuckin’ ice cream. 
“It’s for the baby,” he finally said, after having stared into space for way too long. “Let me do it if it’s for the baby, at least. Please. It’s all I can do right now – help you to help her.”
Her. You wondered why he was so set on that gender. 
More than that, though, you were wondering why it felt like an actual punch to the chest that he wasn’t wanting to help you for you. You didn’t want him to. You’d been through this mental battle many more times than you cared to admit. It was so selfish to think about yourself over the baby. Of course he’d want to help the baby. It had nothing to do with an obligation to you. 
“It’s the best I can do for my baby at the moment, y/n. I’m not doing anything else tonight, so it’s the perfect opportuni–.”
Your stomach growled once more and you had absolutely zero energy to be argumentative.
“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. “But, I am upset you’re doing all of this for me when there isn’t really a way I can repay you,” you remarked, getting up from your spot on the couch, stretching your limbs to loosen up as much as you could. 
“Damn, my body hurts,” you mentioned, offhandedly. You were tense and your back wasn’t loving the extra weight getting added to your body by the day. Not to mention, your boobs felt so heavy — as always these days. 
“Can we go somewhere to get stuff? Make it here or go out? I don’t care; we just don’t have what I want here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed without hesitation. “Absolutely.” 
“Cool,” you grinned. “I’m sorry you have to–.”
“Don’t say sorry,” he groaned from deep in his throat, irritated but not irate. 
You started a trek to your room to gather things to get ready when he made you stop in your tracks with one utterance of your name. “Y/n,” he started, tone stern. Right before you could walk away from the couch to grab your Chuck Taylors and put on a bra, you turned on your heel to observe him, ready to take whatever he had to say with as much ease as possible. 
His tone sounded dangerous – your blood licked with desire at the commanding way he’d spoken your name. 
You raised a brow, as if asking ‘what?’. 
He continued, his eyes brightening when he got your attention, but he didn’t change the tone of his voice right away. It made your skin tingle. “I am the one who can’t begin to repay you.” Moving forward a couple steps, he held your cheek so delicately in his strong hand. “You’re growing my baby–our baby–every day. I can’t even begin to–,” he shook his head, dropping his hand as he went to cover his eyes, nose twitching with a light sniffle. When he looked up again, his eyes were threatening to let tears fall, but his voice was steady as he spoke. “You are not the one to worry about repayment. I don’t need anything in return for the things I’m doing to simply  be there for you while you make a whole ass human being.”
The way your cheeks pinkened was uncontrollable. Hearing him say such intimate words was making your head spin. You wished those words could translate into him caring as much for you as he did the child you were carrying, but you knew there was a fat ass chance of that ever, ever happening. You’d given that up with him. 
“You helped in making the little bean,” you replied, voice thicker than you expected, tacking a laugh to the end of your line. You hoped it distracted from the way your voice had held so much emotion. 
Clearing your throat, you finally went to walk to your room. But, after walking halfway to your bedroom, you paused right before making it to the hallway from the living room. 
Why, when you were just complaining of your aching body, were you about to go put on a damn bra?
“Would you mind if I went braless?” You asked, turning to your roommate, getting his opinion. Didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by any means. 
Jake blinked a few times, having to cough a couple times to come to the question. Shit. Even the question alone had made him feel uneasy. 
“It’s fine. I’ll go put one on,” you started, turning back around. Over your shoulder, you continued. “I don’t want to make you feel–.”
“I would rather you didn’t,” he said, voice husky, behind you. 
The words made you stop in your tracks. You felt the muscles in your shoulders squeeze in anticipation at the words. Even when you knew nothing could come of his words, his opinions. . . you felt them everywhere. 
Suddenly, you were back in the kitchen.
“. . .Y/n– fuck,” he’d rutted against your ass, his hand moving to the bottom of your full breast to hold it in a firm grip. You’d just realized him moving his hand to see the entire breast — your nipples, straining, through the soaked-through, white fabric. “Your tits. . . they’re so fucking– Goddammit.”
Then, he’d let go of your chest to move your strap to do what you’d so desperately wanted. Needed. Once it was draped over your shoulder, he had moved a hand slowly down over your tight sternum, into the front of your camisole. When he’d grazed his fingers over your oversensitive nipple, skirting over your breast to push your flimsy shirt down, you’d whined, knees buckling. 
And, finally, as if you’d been waiting your whole life, he’d pulled your full breast out to touch the air.
The more you thought back on last night, you realized just how much he’d seemed to love your breasts. And, apparently, he wasn’t keeping it a secret from you since the incident. 
“No use hiding that I like your tits, y/n. Always have. But. . . right now?” He began speaking in the present time, as if reading your thoughts. “I love how big and full they are. . . I love why they’re bigger. . .,” He sucked in a breath, the sound rattling through his teeth as his jaw clenched. There was no missing how he seemed to move in his black pants, adjusting his sudden. . . issue. You didn’t look down to watch him. Couldn’t. His voice was like velvet with his next words. “You should know how I feel about them after the way I touched you.”
Holy–.
Speechless. You were speechless. But, you had to say something in return, so you went with the first thing that came to your mind. 
“Won’t wear one, then,” you sighed, breath caught in your lungs. Your panties were suddenly wet and sticking to you,  close to you in a way you wanted him close to you. Did he want all of that? Or was it just your tits? 
“Go wait in your room for me,” he’d whispered heatedly, his words piercing your heart at the anxious energy that had floated through your veins. 
He had wanted it last night, but you’d rejected him. . . God. 
But you literally couldn’t even imagine doing that. 
You’d chosen to cut things off with him, and he’d moved on to Maya without a second thought. Any time you said no or stopped things (pre-pregnancy most definitely included), it was always her he chose. It was obvious who his heart always instantly wanted. 
What tripped you up was the way he looked at you before he went to her. It was the same way he was drinking you in from the doorway at the moment. 
Best to not overthink it. 
Still, you couldn’t help what you said next. “I want you to be able to see what you like.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Why do you think the baby’s a girl?” 
You asked the question as he was driving the two of you home from Walmart. 
After walking the aisles with the sole purpose of getting exactly what you were craving, you’d left the store with everything that you’d wanted at home. 
With your pick of fruit, ice cream, and the specific type of pasta that sounded good (Penne, for some reason), he’d taken the lead on finding the ingredients for the sauce. All he had asked you was if tomato sauce sounded best or if something else sounded better. A tomato-based sauce sounded arguably more delicious, so you’d answered as such.
Once satisfied with your response, he’d gone full ‘Chef Mode’ and had promised that you wouldn’t be disappointed with his go-to, ‘staple tomato sauce’. You’d responded with your trust for his plan, giggling at his intensity as he narrowed down which ingredients would make the tastiest sauce.  
And, of course, he hadn’t allowed you to lift a finger when loading everything into the back of his Jeep. He’d helped you up and out of the passenger seat both at home and at the store, noticing your struggle to keep your balance. 
“I already told you. It’s just a feeling,” he responded, turning left down a prettier street on the 30-minute drive back home. You were passing a garden park, the streets lined with tall light posts, older with intricate detail to align with the quaint part of town. 
Lavender. . . So much of it, sprawled out in the park’s grass. It made your heart clench in your chest.
You looked at him from the corner of your eye, raising a brow with a sarcastic, skeptical face he wasn’t going to see. “You’re sure it’s not anything more? Some secret you have of wanting to be a girl dad? Braid hair? Use all of the bows in her hair?”
“Well. . . I guess that’s sort of it. I love the idea of having a boy, too, though. . .,” he said, his voice lilting at the end of the sentence to emphasize his genuine response. He sighed, scratching the side of his nose once. “It’s just. . . I really like the idea of a baby girl who reminds me of you,” he peeked over at you for a brief moment, making your heart speed at the words and the way he was looking at you. His eyes were dark in the light of the car, but his tan skin glowed under the yellow street lights. “Seeing you in her soft features. . .it gets me. She’d have your nose, your smile, your dimples, your beautiful, innocent eyes–.”
“Innocent? Oh, Jacob. You know better than that,” you laughed heartily, the words coming so smoothly from your mouth. Even after awkward lulls in your relationship with him, it seemed you could go back to that easy feeling so seamlessly – you’d found that recently. It hurt your heart that moments like this couldn’t last forever. “You know much better than that, sir.”
“You’re right, I do,” he chuckled along, clearing his throat before he adjusted himself a bit in the seat, inconspicuously. You pretended not to notice. “You can definitely be a freaky little thing when you want.”
Blushing, you were yet again caught off guard by him being so blatant with you. He kept saying things that made your heart become a flurry in your chest. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it. 
Not wanting to lose the moment, you responded with a question that tested the waters. You played into him, just a bit. “What was your favorite thing we did that was .  . .freaky?”
Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he made a sound that told you he was deep in thought. “Hm. . . That’s hard for me. . . we had a lot of sex in that span of– yeah,” he blew out a breath, once again trying to subtly move around in his seat. And, again, you acted as though you didn’t notice. “I’d say the day in the pool is a top three –  top tier – moment.”
“Oh, yeah? Why?”
“It was fuckin’ hot, I don’t know. . . I loved everything about it.” He blew out a breath, relaxing a bit against his seat as he brought a hand to rest at the top of his thigh. Dangerously close to his. . . . 
You blinked as he started speaking again, switching your eyes back to his profile as he drove. “I think what turned me on the most, though, was that you were willing to give me head and ride me with everyone else so close,” he sucked in a sharp breath of air. 
You caught sight of his hand, inching just the slightest bit closer to his crotch. His fingers were now splaying out to lay delicately against his zipper. Your eyes were trailing up his form just as he stopped at a stop sign. And without any preparation at all, he caught your eye as you watched him so closely. 
Hot air caught in your lungs. 
“Yeah. That was risky as fuck,” he finished, his eyes dark under the yellow street lights lining the road.
The way your heart lurched in your chest with the way he looked at you. . . . dammit.  It made your breathing turn so heavy, filling up your lungs. When you breathed fully in, you puffed your chest out as you exhaled through your nose. And you would’ve been blind not to notice Jake’s eyes trail down. . . slowly. . . . to your full chest, staying there to admire what he saw.
In your peripheral vision, you noticed his hand inching. . . .closer. . .and closer to fully cup himself. 
You didn’t dare look down, though — too afraid to break eye contact with him and suffocate the moment completely. But, before you could worry much more about it, he spoke.
“Fuck, y/n,” he rasped, his voice deeper and needy. 
Surely this wasn’t happening again. . . . You couldn’t be tested like this again with him. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself this time.
Your cheeks were fully pink from hearing him say your name like that. It wasn’t new at all. No, you’d heard it many times before. He was desperate. Asking for help. Begging for it. 
You’d come so close to each other the night before. . . 
What happened next couldn’t be stopped if you tried. 
Finally, you looked down to his hand to observe his predicament. And what you found made your body instantly, completely ready for him. 
His thick shaft, straining against the tight black denim of his jeans . . . . The zipper of his jeans, aiding as well as it could in keeping him constrained. But it was no match for him.
The yellow street lamps above you created the perfect shadow to accentuate the sight before you. . . You could see the outline of him so incredibly well. 
“Please, baby,” he whined, completely at your mercy. 
What in the hell was going on? You didn’t know how it had suddenly escalated to this once again. 
But, you knew you didn’t need any other word to convince you against what you wanted — needed — to do. He had taken such good care of you all night. . . You wanted a way to repay him. 
Fuck Maya. You couldn’t help this. You were weak for him, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. The baby hormones were only making this ten times worse, you were sure. 
Your hand, clammy yet purposeful in its movements, seemed to move in slow motion towards him. 
And once you met his pants and settled a hand over where he needed you most, the car suddenly felt so small – too constricting. The hot air blowing from the vents was too much. 
You felt your breath catch in your lungs right as he took in a harsh breath of air. Your skin tingled, your entire body covered in goosebumps, despite the warm car.
With baby hairs stuck to your damp forehead, you inhaled through your nose, letting your hand fully grasp his thickness. You felt his body shiver beneath your hand. You felt your own body react to the moment, clenching around nothing for him. Holding him through the denim was slightly difficult, but you did the best you could. Touching him like this again seemed unreal. Just holding him in your hand again like this. . . It was heavenly.  
Though, you were finding as you squeezed just slightly, it was nothing like feeling the weight of it, bare in your hand. So, with a racing heart and soaking wet panties, you decided to make it happen. 
With one hand still on his dick and the other on his belt buckle, you looked up to quickly gauge his reaction. His pupils were blown out, nearly filling his entire iris, glowing as he watched you under the old street post lamps. 
You raised one brow, trying to school your features the best you could. But you knew there was no way you could honestly change the look of desire painting your features. Your heart hammered in your chest, your head light and airy. 
“Can I. . .?” You breathed, the words almost stuck in your throat. 
He cleared his throat and nodded his head a bit. “Yes, please,” he sighed, a whine at the end of please, while your hand absently stroked him. You watched his pretty face contort just the slightest bit any time you brushed the tip. He unbuckled his seatbelt, seeming to give the final go-ahead.
So, without any further direction, you moved the hand from his dick to unbuckle your seatbelt. The other hand stayed busy, unbuckling his leather belt and unbuttoning his jeans. 
However, your seatbelt was not working in your favor, the latch stuck and not letting you pull the metal from the fastener. 
“Goddammit!” You breathed in frustration, on the verge of tears at the fading opportunity and the stupid seatbelt ruining it all. 
Without any words, you saw his hand come over, your gaze lingering on two purposeful digits pushing down on the red button to the fastener just right. Your breath caught.
The way your body buzzed at the sight, you knew you needed his hands on you, too. Needed him pushing those fingers into you, against you, rolling circles against you . . . .
Though, when you witnessed the seatbelt finally becoming undone, all thoughts for yourself were flying out the window. All you could think was that you were that much closer to seeing him. Holding him in your hand. Doing whatever this was with him. 
Your panties were uncomfortably soaked when you resituated to lean over the gear shift. Though, when you did this, you remembered a new obstruction that you had to adjust with to get the position just right. 
Your belly grazed the handle of the gearshift and you suddenly weren’t looking forward to having to lean over it. Though, within seconds, without having to be told, a hand came over — same hand that unbuckled the seatbelt — to shift the car into park. But after he was done, he kept it there, hand covering the gearshift to make it more comfortable for you to adjust.
Tears pricked your eyes when you glanced up at him under bashful lashes. “Thanks,” you muttered with a blush, leaning just a little further over to continue getting his pants undone. 
“‘Course,” he replied, voice soft underneath the need. Genuinely concerned, he asked, “Is that better?”
“Yes. Much better,” you answered, no question to your tone. 
When your hands finally got his belt buckle undone, you could have cheered with excitement. But, you kept it all to yourself as you unbuttoned his pants, wanting the moment to stay calm and warm and gentle. 
Or did you want it to be gentle?
Before you could do anything else, your back started to feel the new weight that hung in front of you. This position, in the cramped car, wasn’t the best. You arched it, just a little, to try to relieve some pressure. You’d deal with the pain for a bit, though. . . For this — needed this.
What you didn’t want to deal with was having to get his jeans off. Not tonight. Not with your back beginning to ache the way it was. So, you simply pulled the zipper down, and with one more heated stare up at him through your lashes, you tucked a hand down into his pants. He didn’t take his eyes from yours. 
Your gaze never wavered as you continued from the band of his boxer briefs, down further to finally have your hand meet his smooth, pink tip. 
His eyes dared to flutter shut, but he kept them on you. His lips opened slightly to release a whine mixed with a guttural moan. And his stare. . . It was hot, heating your body all the way down to the tips of your toes. 
He eyed you, almost possessively. It made your head spin and skin prick with desire for more – you were aching in your panties for him. He swallowed thickly, not daring to tear his eyes off of you for even a second.
You skated your hand to pay proper attention to the pillowy soft tip you could feel beneath your fingertips. Your touch was light at first as you stroked it, but you quickly went to massage it skillfully with your thumb, remembering how he liked that. You made sure to trace the delicately crease underneath it, watching how it made his body tremble.
Moving carefully, you spread the healthy amount of precum over the pillowy head of his thick shaft. His hips rutted up towards you, showing you how much he was enjoying it.
The deep moan he released made your legs clench together and your own moan released of its own volition from your mouth, under your breath. His sound was accompanied by the sight of his head, thrown back as much as he could, while still keeping his eyes trained on you. The sound and sight would be forever sealed in your memory.
With the jeans constricting your movements, you continued to handle his girth the best you could.  His heated flesh, dick rock-hard and the skin of it so soft. . . You continued further down from the head, letting your line of sight finally trail down to his pants. 
When you looked down, you were met with the sight of his dick, beginning to peek out from the top of his jeans. You’d pushed the pants down a little to access him, apparently, and it’d made the pretty pink tip of him almost fully visible. 
It made your heart flip and tummy hurt to see him like that, swollen tip shiny under the dim lights from his arousal. He was so thick and ready — only a small view of him waiting, just above the waistband of his briefs. 
You decided you’d take further advantage of the new access you’d created when you’d apparently pushed his jeans down. But, before you could go any further, you decided to wet your hand with some saliva. Wanted it to be as pleasurable for him as it could be. 
Though, when you moved your body back and removed your hand from him, the strangled cry he emitted had your breath rattling in your chest.
“Don’t stop,” he whined, exhausted and needy for you.
You reached forward, eyes dark and trained on him. Grabbing his chin, you made him watch as you spit into your other hand. 
His eyes flickered, jaw set as he knew what was coming. His breaths were sharp and labored, chest huffing as he waited for what was next. 
And, just as your hand was on its way down to his pants, you changed your mind. 
You wanted more. Yeah, you loved touching him with your hands, but there was something you liked much, much better. . . 
With one swift movement, you skillfully rebalanced in your seat to have your knees in it as you bent completely over him. Your belly came to lean on his outstretched arm, the one belonging to the hand still holding the gear shift.
Hurriedly, you brought your hair behind your head and twisted it into a makeshift ponytail. Pushing back the sleeves of your sweatshirt, you knew the jeans were officially coming further down for the next part. 
You tapped his thigh and he got the hint. Lifting his hips, he moved the left side of his waistband down as you took care of the right. And, finally, he was springing free from the black briefs. 
Dear God — you’d forgotten just how pretty. . . . 
Not wanting to waste another second, you grasped the hair at your neck as the other hand delicately grabbed hold of his length. You positioned it, just right. . . . And then, your lips were kissing his tip delicately before your wet mouth sank down over him. 
You would never be able to find the proper words to describe how Jake Kiszka’s dick felt, laying heavy against your tongue. Going almost fully down once, you felt him hit the back of your throat. He cried your name, his free hand coming down to squeeze his thigh. Your eyes watered, lips not quite touching the bottom of his belly.
Once you were sure you had wet his dick completely with your mouth, you bobbed your head languidly, giving him long and slow licks. You savored every last inch of him with your tongue, moving a hand to cup where his balls sat in his pants.
His breath stuttered, a low sound released from the pit of his chest. “Holy fuck. I’ve missed you.”
The words were said softly, not so needily. . . You almost stopped to acknowledge them, but decided against it. It seemed best to ignore the words for now. 
So, continuing, you let your tongue lick once more from the base of his dick all the way back to the tip. You grasped his shaft once more in your hand, giving him a few pumps, skimming the underside of the head with the tip of your tongue at the same time.
But, after feeling his thighs shake and hearing your name fall from his lips, you switched your course of action. Not yet. 
With one final stroke of your tongue in the crease, you enveloped his throbbing tip in your mouth. After sucking on him for a minute, you went to move to the top of the head and curled your tongue around and into the slit at the peak of it. You licked every last piece of his earlier pre-release from him, wanting to savor it all for yourself. 
Without warning, the sound of a horn blaring behind the Jeep, a car having come up — jolted you. The car’s lights were bright, bright enough to blind you and seemingly catch you in the act. So, you stopped at a moment’s notice, shuffling to wipe your mouth and get settled back down in your seat. 
Jake took a while to come back to reality. As you buckled back into your seat, you kept an eye on him as he snapped out of it, blinking rapidly. His eyes averted from where they’d been and he used his hands to pull his pants back up, dick still hard with no relief.
Your heart fell as you watched him put himself away, tucking everything back where it belonged, adjusting. He went as fast as he could to buckle his belt, the car behind you honking once more. 
“Fuck off,” you mumbled under your breath. “Be patient.”
Jake apparently hadn’t heard your reprimand to the car behind you. He just kept doing what he was doing, trying hard to get his shit together. After sliding his seatbelt back over his chest and lap, he lifted his hips in his seat to settle back in place, one hand clutching the top of the wheel. 
He didn’t look your way, just kept his eyes trained forward. Wanted to seem inconspicuous to the car behind you, it seemed. 
Following his lead, you turned, breathing hard and facing the front of the Jeep. You wiped your mouth, fluffing your hair back over your shoulder and pulled your sweatshirt sleeves down. The way your heart was beating in your chest was enough to make your heart monitor go off, but surprisingly it stayed silent. 
You silently thanked it, not needing any more unwelcome interruption to the previous moment. Needed time to reset. 
What the fuck had just happened?
You kept your eyes ahead, observing through the windshield. 
The windshield was so clean, it looked as though it wasn’t even there. He obviously cared a lot for this car to keep it looking so nice. You liked how he liked things being kept in good condition. He paid attention. 
Speaking of attention, you brought your mind back to the matter at hand before. . . . Trying your best to respond after everything that had just happened. 
“The pool was pretty risky. You’re right,” you laughed breathily, still trying to deflate your stuffy airways. But I think that moment just beat it — risky for more reasons than one. . . 
Thankfully, he wasn’t acting strange. He actually chuckled along with you, huffing under his heavy breaths. “Yeah.”
When you inhaled and exhaled again, it felt closer to full and even. You felt a faint smile find your lips. 
You tried to refocus your brain. You’d think about how he’d felt against your tongue later. Or maybe you didn’t have to think about it. . . It honestly seemed so natural, it was like going back to normal. So strange. Or was it?
So, you went back to what he’d been talking about prior. . . It was making you think. Really think. Had you sort of wanted the guys to find out? By god. . . With a little contented sigh, you continued, “. . . You know, maybe I always secretly wanted them to know.”
“Wanted who to know what?” He sighed heavily, his breathing evening out next to you.
“I think I sort of wanted the guys to just find out. Might’ve made it easier to deal with if they just happened to see,” you explained, talking your own mind through the new train of thought. But. . . there was a reason it had been kept secret. “I just-just couldn’t get past the thought of Josh being upset with me.”
“Why would he have been upset with you?”
You could feel his stare piercing through you. Though, you kept your line of sight trained on a few drops of dried rain on his windshield. Didn’t dare look his way.
“I can’t get into all of that right now.”
You thought of everything Josh had said that kept you from pursuing things any further than you had. How he’d been so protective of his brother before you’d even gotten to know Jake at all. . . He wanted the best for Jake and you knew now, deep down, that you could do him nothing but harm. You weren’t the pick for a man who needed a woman who was good, all the way down to the soul. . . .there was too much that kept you from feeling safe for others. You were not pure enough for someone as dreamy and brilliant as Jake.
Your stomach suddenly hurt at the thought of what had just occurred. . . The guilt began to eat at you. You didn’t want him to lose someone good for him because of dumb sexual urges. But were they dumb urges? Or fully understandable and expected?
Fuck. You didn't know. 
What you did know was that Maya was real. She was his girlfriend. She should be the only one doing what you just did. . . 
No matter how much you cared for him and wanted him, Maya had been the right one for him all along. 
As much as you despised her, she was a sweet woman who treated Jake very well. You saw it in her eyes, the way she’d mess with his hair, hold his hand, sit on his lap. . . They clicked in a way you could only hope to click with someone so illustrious as Jake Kiszka. 
They got each other in a way you thought you had gotten him, months ago. . . but that thing between you two had been temporary – you’d known so all along.
And, chances were, he’d been seeing her the entire time anyway. 
You felt sick at it all. 
There was no way you alone were good enough for him. God, he was just so precious and unique in every way imaginable. 
“It’s okay. You don’t have to. It’s the past now,” he reasoned, cracking your heart a little more in your chest. “I still reminisce, though.”
“Me too,” you whispered, tears stuck in the hollow of your throat. “I have a slight disagreement with you about something, though.” 
He wrinkled his brow, turning to look both ways before going straight. He caught your eyes when he looked in your direction, and turned a wrinkled brow into a raised one.
“The baby has to have your smile and your eyes,” you reasoned, watching him as he continued straight. “Boy or girl. I’ve wanted those features on this baby’s face for a long time – since the moment I let myself think that far.” You weren’t about to tell him that his smile and his eyes were the sole reason you’d decided to keep the baby that day, on the way to the abortion clinic. The two intricate, incredible parts of his face that showed him – showed just how much of a gift he was to the world. 
The same sort of gift you wanted to give the world, in his baby.
“We’ll see who wins their pick.”
“Mama gets first vote.”
“That’s fair,” he responded, flashing the same exact grin you imagined every day for your child.
-🌼🌼🌼-
It was raining again when you got home. The late-autumn, early-winter thunderstorm, a calming vibe for the apartment as Jake cooked in the kitchen. 
The smell of italian seasonings and tomato sauce were heavenly, the pitter-pattering of rain against the kitchen window was marvelous. And the fact that you were casually hanging out with Jake? That was beyond the way either of the latter could make you feel.
(The fact that you’d had his dick in your mouth less than two hours ago was something you were trying to put far out of your mind for the time being.)
“Did you have plans tonight?” You wondered aloud, letting the words traipse out of your mouth on their own as you dried a dish with an already-dampened towel, having been working through your task as you waited on dinner. Jake was cooking the sauce and the pasta, and as he dirtied a dish or utensil from cooking, you’d clean it, dry it, and put it away. 
He hadn’t wanted you to lift a finger, but after putting your foot down and giving him a look, he’d relented.
“Noticed you dressed up earlier,” you continued, putting a mixing bowl back in the cabinet.
Why were you asking this? You were just asking to be hurt by him saying he’d been with—.
“Yeah, meeting with the label execs,” he replied, moving the seasonings around in the minced onions, garlic, and green pepper, searing hot in the saucier; the new addition of garlic made your nose tingle with eagerness to eat. “Went well. Talked album release and all that shit.”
You watched him, his beautiful hair now meeting the tops of his shoulder blades. . . And, if you were being honest, you could’ve sighed with relief at the idea of him not being with Maya earlier tonight. Which. . . was admittedly unfair of you since you’d been out with another man earlier that day.
Yes, y/n. It’s not fair. And Jake’s relationship is not your business anymore, a gentle voice reminded you. You’re the one who called it quits and you have to be okay with not being the one he chooses. Who he chooses to spend his time with shouldn’t matter. . . No matter what you get yourself into. . .
Snapping from your thought, you noticed him reaching for one more tomato on the counter next to him. You could tell he was looking for the cutting board and knife, but he wasn’t going to find them as you’d already cleaned them. 
Without having to be asked, you went ahead and got them back out for him. 
His eyebrows were turned in with confusion as you placed them on the counter next to him, one brow raising with appreciation. “You’ve already washed them? I’m impressed – just used them,” he laughed under his breath, going about his task with chopping the red fruit. “I’m sorry to dirty them again.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you grinned, deciding to take a break. You washed your hands and dried them before leaning against the counter to watch him cook, glancing at the glowing green time of 9:33 p.m. on the stove. “You’re making dinner for me way later than you should be having to–you shouldn’t be–,” you stopped yourself, shaking your head. You knew how he’d disagree with your statement. “. . . I’m just trying to keep up with your mad chef skills. Professional chef, meet your professional dish-washer,” you bowed dramatically, only bending so far with the slightly protruding tummy at your waist. 
When you rose up and pushed your back against the counter again, you laced both hands under your tummy and looked over at him. His dimple, fully present in his cheek with a bright grin lighting up his features. “You are so fucking cute,” he said, almost as if he couldn’t help it. 
The little comment made your heart warm for like five seconds, but then he was turning to the island behind him to grab some salt for the tomato mixture cooking on the stove. It smelled heavenly, by the way – perfectly ripe tomatoes sizzling in olive oil with fresh vegetables, parsley, and cilantro. . . 
But, as enticingly savory as the smell was. . . your eyes were still glued to the island. 
Everything from your afternoon of contemplation was hurtling at full speed back into your mind.
Maya, on her knees. Jake, moaning. You, having to watch. As much as his relationship wasn’t your business, your apartment and its rules were. 
And, in spite of what had happened in his car — or all of the sweet things he’d said tonight and the incredibly kind thing he was doing for you at the present moment. . . 
You knew you had to bring up. You’d texted him about it earlier and everything. If you didn’t say anything about it now, you knew your pregnant brain would let you forget again. 
It was also probably best to bring it up for another reason. A reality check. Because, as wrong as the action was to do out in the open, it wasn’t wrong for him to be doing it. It was wrong what happened in the Jeep. As much as it broke you. Your buzzing hormones were screaming at you. 
It was wrong for him to treat you like anything more than a friend. Yes, you were carrying his child, but he had a girlfriend. 
So, saying something about the instance might help to remind him that he had a girlfriend. . . And that you weren’t her. 
You needed to bring her back in the discussion – as much as you fucking hated it, it was real life.
“I, um. . .,” you started, looking at your polish-less toenails. You really needed a self-care day. Both types of nail beds were looking terrible. Task at hand, y/n. “Jake, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What’s up?” He replied, voice open and ready to receive it. 
You hoped he was ready to hear you and would understand where you were coming from. 
“On, uh, on Thanksgiving. . . I–,” you struggled to begin. But, you had to spit it out. Had to get your point made. So, you trudged through. You let the image that was stained in your brian fuel you to say the words exactly as they needed to be said. Letting your back go straighter, and pushing your chest out with purpose, you asserted your claim. “I walked in on Maya and you. You, um, were pushed against the island,” you let your eyes trail there of their own volition. It spurred you on. “She was on her knees. It was obvious what was happening. And I don’t really think that it aligns with–.”
“With the rules,” he finished, sighing in a reflective sort of way. “Yeah, I know.”
You were shocked. He remembered? Then why–?
“Why did you let it happen then?” You asked, still not looking up at him, burning holes into the counter he’d been leant against as her mouth made lewd sounds, echoing in the small space even now. The image was absolutely unwelcome in every sense of the word. 
“I was feeling the moment,” he sighed. You heard a burner click down and his own feet slide against the floor. 
Looking back at your own feet, you caught a glimpse of his feet . . . facing yours. Ironically, you couldn’t help the New Girl reference spurring in your brain. 
“A guy’s feet point at what they want, and his feet were pointing at you.” Cece’s voice was setting off tiny alarm bells in your head. Your heart rate picked up a bit at the idea of it – was this how Jess felt during that entire episode? 
Then, you thought about how similarly Maya looked to Cece and you were sick to your stomach all over again. Fuck. She really did ruin everything. And you hated with a burning passion how aggravatingly stunning she was.
“Well, it may be best to not ‘feel the moment’ in the middle of the apartment,” you replied, your faster heart rate encouraging you to spit the words out. Finally, your eyes flicked up to him, only to find his eyes trained on the ground as well, and a blush on his cheeks. “There are rules for a reason, Jake. You agreed to them.”
You continued. “And not only did you break the rule about common spaces, you’ve also been having loud sex right next door while I try to sleep and I– it’s not good for me or the baby and–.”
“I’m sorry. I will tell her to be quieter.”
“I can hear you, too, Jacob.”
“Well, then. . . we’ll work on that.”
“Work on it?”
“Yeah. We’ll try to–.”
“You won’t try, Jake. You’ll just do. . . Just be quiet. Damn. It’s not rocket science.”
“Goddamn, y/n. I understand,” he replied, shaking his head as he glanced at you once and then back at the ground. “And I’m so damn sorry my responses are lacking today.”
Silence. It dragged for a minute or two — long enough for him to go back to checking the sauce, then coming back to face across from you again. 
This was officially the longest day in history. You were tired of it. But, you also didn’t want it to be over. . . You’d liked spending so much time with him.
“How would you feel if you heard me next door having loud sex with someone?”
“I wouldn’t—,” he started, grumbling, jaw tense. “It’s not my business.”
“Didn’t ask if it was your business. I asked how you’d feel. Would it make you feel uncomfortable at all?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Why am I a liar?”
“Because, Jake, even if we didn’t have a past,” you placed an absentminded hand on your tummy. His eyes flickered down at the motion, but almost instantly found their way back to your face. “Loud sex makes other people feel uncomfortable.”
“Not me.”
“Want me to test your assumption? I could invite someone over and make sure to have the loudest sex to see how it makes you fee–.”
“No,” he responded, with no hesitation. “Well, not no. You can do whatever the hell you want– I just– fuck. I wouldn’t like it, y/n. Is that what you want me to say?”
“I want you to be honest.”
“I wouldn’t like hearing you fuck someone else,” he insisted without another thought, voice low with eyes dark enough to make your head swirl and your chest heat. “Especially while you’re pregnant with my baby.”
Your heart thumped a million miles a minute in your chest. Again, your heart monitor apparently let you have the moment. “Well, I don’t like hearing my baby’s daddy moaning another woman’s name. And I especially don’t like seeing him getting sucked off by said woman either,” your words were true and harsh as they slid off your tongue. It felt good to say them. Have them out in the open.
“We’ll adjust it. I’ll talk to her.”
More silence. But, it wasn’t uncomfortable. 
No, this was literally just a conversation. A conversation that needed to be had, between two people who knew each other well enough to make a damn baby. 
As he checked the food once more, he flicked off the burners completely and slid the pans back to begin to cool a bit. He placed the sauce pan on the warmer. You just watched him – focused on the fact that he was right here, so present. . . .and all you wanted to do was kiss him. Even more than pulling his pants down again, you just wanted to wrap your arms around him and kiss him. 
He was once again across from you, closer this time. You caught sight of his hands, nearing your face. And, just before he could gently grasp your face in his hands, he dropped them. 
Backing up a bit, towards the oven, his eyes softened. His gaze settled on you in a way that made you want to curl up in him and cry. “You ready to eat?”
-🌼🌼🌼-
Jake’s POV
“Are you going to . . .?”
Her eyebrows wrinkled, questioning. She was nearly sleepwalking, her eyelids barely open. I knew she was tired and beyond ready for bed. It was selfish of me to ask, but I had to before I lost the fucking nerve.
“Are you going to have sex here?” I clarified, clearing my throat.
She scoffed, but a gentle smile stayed on her pretty face. “That isn’t your business, Jake. What is your business is that it won’t be loud if it happens. And I won’t be doing it out in spaces that you can see.”
At her words came the most unpleasant feeling. . . . and the sight I imagined – it made my stomach turn and my skin heat with jealousy. 
Instead of Maya and me at that damn island, I saw y/n and that fuckass Theo guy. . . Him, towering over her. Her round belly, carrying my baby, being held in his football-playing hands as he pounded into her from behind. 
He would be making her his in a way I sure as fuck didn’t want her to be. The way I knew how her delicate eyebrows would sink in at the feeling of him inside of her. . . the way her body would be giving in to him, soft, tight, and ready.
The way she’d moan like she did tonight as she sucked me off. . . . Fuck.
And the sounds she’d make. . . I knew the exact noises that would come from her mouth if he was fucking her– the wet sounds from her pretty pussy. . . I knew every single sound like the back of my hand. I’d elicited them from her over and over again for two of the most astounding months of my life. 
I could practically feel her clenching around me at the thought. . . the way her body would basically give out with certain positions or motions of my hips. . . . and how she’d become absolute putty in my hands as her release climbed up her spine and spilled over my dick. . .
My dick twitched in my pants, but I tried like hell to stop it. 
Hell. This was hell.
And the thoughts were damn near crippling me. 
But she was right. It wasn’t my fucking business. I’d told her the same damn thing earlier. Fuck me.
As wrong as it felt for another man to be fucking the mother of my child, I had proven with my relationship and careless actions in it that I had moved on. Though, I hadn’t moved on. I wasn’t moving on. I thought I had been, but then. . . the moment I truly stopped to think about her being pregnant, that first night I’d known. . . I’d known for a damned well fact that I hadn’t moved on worth shit.
Poor Maya. I honestly felt like I was using her at this point. But. . . I did love her. Or so I had convinced myself over the time we’d been dating. 
I was just desperate to cling to a woman who hadn’t hurt me. I was so tired of it, and Maya would never. She only ever wanted to please. And that felt so damn good. 
“Okay,” was all I could respond with, through my clenched teeth. It was a pathetic response. 
She breathed in deeply, her beautiful chest expanding under her sweatshirt. I could see her nipples, hard and ready beneath the thick material. Sweet hell.  Was it for me? Or was it for him? Or. . . worse. . . was it for no one and her body was just always ready these days? Was that what happened to women when they were pregnant? 
Was that why she’d suddenly been so eager tonight to throw away the morals she’d had just last night? Was a raging, uncontrollable libido to blame for what happened in my car tonight? 
Fuck, I needed to do more research. I knew exactly what I’d be looking into tonight. . . 
. . .After I finished what she’d started earlier. 
“Okay,” she sighed, going to turn towards her bedroom. 
“Does he know?” I couldn’t help but wonder, pushing the conversation further.
She didn’t even have to ask who. Because there was only one man in her sights and we both knew who the fuck the man was. Goddamn this guy. I hated him. Barely knew him, but I knew he wasn’t anything near what –who– she needed. 
“Yes,” she replied, resolute. Turning, she rested her beautiful, curvy body against her door frame. “Telling him about the baby went well, actually.”
“When did you tell him?”
“Tonight. Told him when we got to the coffee shop,” she detailed, clasping her hands under her belly to hold it. Damn, I could watch her all day long. “He was bound to find out soon enough. I feel like I’m getting bigger every single day – already kind of giving it away.”
Fuck if I know it, baby. . . 
Instead of saying the words aloud, all I did was nod and take in a steady breath through my nose and let it out slowly from deep in my chest. Her eyes trailed to my chest with the motion and I felt a moment of hope that she still wanted me as badly as she had in the kitchen. . . Even more so how she’d wanted me tonight. 
All of the blood in my body was rushing towards my dick at the thought of her wet body in my arms last night, her hands and mouth on me in the Jeep. . . 
Her see -through tank top. . . the way her swollen tits tempted to spill from the top of the shirt. . . how close I’d been to holding her full breast in my hand. . . her nipples, peaked so prettily and showing perfectly through the soaking wet cotton. She’d been ready. I knew her body. 
And tonight. . . .? I couldn’t even get started on that.
I was just so confused. Just last night, she’d left and had refused me coming to her room. But tonight she’d taken the initiative to put her damn mouth on me.
After last night and tonight, I could throw Maya on her ass and not feel bad about it. Well, maybe a little bad. 
Damn, it was shitty to admit it. Though, it somehow felt even shittier to go take out on her what I only wanted to do to y/n. . . And that had been exactly what I’d done.
“Is there anything else you need before I go to bed? I’m about to fall asleep standing up,” she blinked slowly, sleepily. . . so fucking cute. All I wanted to do right now was follow her to bed and make her sigh my name. . . Then, hold her in my arms afterward, watching her fall into a hopefully blissful sleep. . .
“No,” I cleared my throat. “Is there anything else I can do for you to make your night easier?”
“You’ve done just about everything you could’ve done, Jake,” she replied, smiling the most serenely beautiful, tired grin. . . her lips, tempting me to kiss her. The blush on her cheeks, pulling me closer. 
But, all too soon, she was opening the door all the way to her bedroom, walking in and turning once more to look at me through the crack she’d made with the door. “‘Night.”
“Goodnight,” I muttered, in a daze caused by her beauty alone. Her pretty lips. Her body. Her face. Just her. 
Damn. I was letting myself in too deep. Again. 
It had happened without me fully realizing it. I’d just started falling for her again (Had I ever stopped? Or had I just been hurt?). 
I hadn’t even let myself pause to think about how it could bite me in the ass. 
But. . . did I care if it bit me in the ass? I wasn’t with y/n. . . I had a girlfriend. If all went to shit, I had Maya to lean back on. It was shitty for me to think like that, but damn.
Though, I couldn’t help but think. . . There wasn’t any harm in listening to my heart and simply being helpful and kind to the woman carrying my child. However that may look, I could be there for her. Right? I had a soft spot for her – I probably always would. 
It was y/n. Even if she wasn’t pregnant with my kid, I’d always look at her a little more tenderly than most other people – well, all other people. She’d carved a place in my heart from the first moment I’d seen her. 
There was truly no one like her.
Never would be.
End of Jake’s POV
-🌼🌼🌼-
A week later, you were hoping to slide out of class without attracting Theo’s attention, but he’d caught you and followed you all the way out to your damn car. 
And, of course, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about one particular thing you really didn’t want to talk to him about. Something that definitely wasn’t his business, even though he was trying like hell to make it that way. 
It was your decision to lead him on, a voice tenderly reminded you. And you’re still going on that date with him. You promised you would. You have to put up with him for at least a little while longer. 
“Well. . . is the baby’s father in the picture?” He asked, following his multitude of other yes/no questions, right as you’d opened your driver’s side door to escape him. 
Fuck. What did you say? You didn’t want to freak him out. Annoying as he was, you still had a plan to at least try things with him to see if you could make something work with someone who wasn’t Jake. . . Still wanted to test the waters with the whole idea of seeing another guy. There was a chance you could end up giving things a real chance with Theo. And you didn’t want to spoil what could inevitably get your mind off of Jake by acting like you were with him in any capacity. 
Because you weren’t. No matter what had happened in the kitchen or the Jeep.
You couldn’t tell him the full truth. It just didn’t seem entirely wise to tell him all of the details. . . just in case. What was a way you could tell him half of the truth? 
“Kind of, kind of not,” you replied, not wanting to give much more. But, you added, “He’s not as present as I wish he could be.”
Not a lie, you thought. Because I do wish he was more present. Like, present in my bed, for instance. . .  which he isn’t.
“Why not?” Theo asked, going to lean against your car. 
Just before he could place his jeans-clad butt against your car, you spoke up. “Don’t lean against the car, please,” you tried, feeling uncomfortable that you even had to ask him. You just didn’t want him to scratch or dent your beloved Jetta. 
“Oh,” he said, pouting a bit. “Is the car special to you or something?”
“Well, kind of. Elsie and I shared it when she lived here and still kind of do,” you told him. I also just don’t want just anyone leaning against my car; is that too much to ask?!
He made a noise of acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything further on the matter as he straightened up with a bit of an attitude. “Why isn’t the father present?”
You were not ready to explain. You didn’t know what to begin to say. . . didn’t want to say too much, but you also didn’t want to completely lie. 
“He’s just not able to be fully involved,” you replied, looking down at your nails to pick at a snaggled cuticle. “He does what he can. Just not available to do all I wish he was able to do, I guess.”
It was a diversion and it wasn’t a lie. You just wanted to drop the conversation entirely. 
“What do you mean by all of that?”
I don’t want to answer that, you grumbled internally. And you wouldn’t like the answer, Theodore. 
“I don’t really want to get into it,” you explained, hiding an eye roll with a glance back at your car. You opened your door more, desperate for an escape. And a nap. . . You didn’t have any obligations ton—.
Dammit – you had therapy this evening. You were looking forward to it, but you weren’t really looking forward to having to be in such close quarters to Jake all evening. After last Monday, you hadn’t seen him as much. He was either gone for the album or at the apartment hanging out with the guys to discuss things. A time or two, Maya had been there, forcing you to make a last minute plan with Josh one night and an impromptu dinner plan with your grandparents the other. . . 
It was so incredibly hard being so close while he was forced to be so distant, emotionally – especially after recent events. 
The two of you just weren’t what you wished you could be.
God. Alcohol or weed would be lovely right now. Something to get my mind off of things, you wistfully acknowledged. 
Then, you peered up at the man in front of you – remembered the entire reason you were giving him the time of day to begin with.
The perfect distraction was right here, in front of you. You pushed down the way your skin was buzzing with annoyance, and gave yourself a second to observe him. Maybe it could work out to just make yourself available to him. See where it could lead. . . . 
So, you went ahead and added an ending statement to your earlier explanation, “But. . . . . we aren’t together, I can tell you that much.”
“Yeah?” He smirked, his eyes glinting in the afternoon sun. 
And, your hormones worked in your favor as you eyed him, watched him move. . . he really was so fucking handsome. You couldn’t deny it. The more you allowed yourself to study his structure and looks, the easier it was to let your mind wander. 
He shifted his broad shoulders, his alumni sweatshirt hugging his strong chest so well. . . For what it was worth, Theodore was hot – you could give him that. He was irritating, but perhaps his looks could make up for it if you allowed. . .
And, you couldn’t deny how much you loved the fact that he still seemed interested in you even though you were pregnant. Someone so seriously sexy still wanted you, all bloated and different. . . that was endearing. It was promising and validating. 
“Yeah,” you blushed, looking back into his eyes from his chest. The more you genuinely entertained the thought of Theo, the further your mind traveled of its own accord. . . . You bit your lip as you checked him out, letting your eyes travel to his chest again, and back to his face, flicking over every feature. 
One of your favorite features of his were his hooded eyelids. Even in high school, you’d always liked them on him for some reason. His lids and chiseled facial structure complimented his seafoam-colored irises, shining in the sunlight. As much of an open book he seemed, his model-worthy looks gave him an air of mystery that you enjoyed. 
“Well, that makes it easier for us to plan our date,” he remarked, moving towards you. 
Not sure if it was your raging hormones or what, you weren’t feeling any uneasiness over his proximity. In fact, your body seemed to welcome it with the way your skin heated under the lustful way he peered down at you. Your chest exhaled just enough for your breasts to skim his chest. He was suddenly very close. 
You kept looking into his eyes, craning your neck to look up at him. Your eyelids fluttered with the way his stare was piercing you. What was happening? Where had your annoyance disappeared to?
“I want you, y/n,” he said, voice low. “I don’t give a damn if there’s a baby in you or that it’s another man’s baby . . . I want you just as badly as I did sophomore year of high school. You are perplexingly stunning – inside and out – always have been.” 
Suddenly, with his words and the way his boyish Axe body spray penetrated your senses, you forgot how annoying he was. The Axe body spray didn’t repulse you like his Black Ice car freshener. No, it reminded you of simpler times – he reminded you of life in its simplest form. Being a teenager, a child – when there’d been much less stress. Your mother, further from your thoughts in high school than she’d ever been before. . . no adult obligation to face your past.
Back then, there hadn’t been a Jake entering your life, whose presence prompted you to fucking heal those wounds from your childhood. . . Those dark, twisted past hurts that you’d worked to cover up very well in high school. 
You couldn’t remember why you’d ever been so irritated with him. Because the man standing in front of you right now was not one you were at all angered by. . . He made you feel light and carefree, like you could ignore the hard things and focus on the unimportant. . . You just felt all innocent suddenly, like you had so long ago.
This beautiful man with dirty-blonde hair was clouding your senses – he was the same boy who’d given you so many of your firsts. . . . This person, who was standing in front of you, wanting you just as badly as he had so many years ago. . . He was still so fine, all aggravating traits completely aside.
He stepped closer once more, your breasts aching with the added pressure of his chest. But – you barely had time to wince with the way your breath caught in your throat at his next action. He’d grasped your chin. And was ever-so-slowly leaning his face down towards yours. 
You were not about to stop it. Couldn’t stop it if you wanted. And you definitely didn’t want to. Fuck it.
In seconds, his lips had found yours, giving your lips a welcome, proper kiss. His lips enveloped yours so attractively. You felt like a smitten teenage girl all over again. . . you were back in your grandparents’ driveway the summer before junior year, bidding him goodbye with tears in your eyes, right before he moved away. It’d sucked having to break up. . . because back then? You’d never once been annoyed by him, weren’t so jaded as you were now. You had enjoyed his company, in fact (even if Elsie didn’t much care for it, you had). 
And, you were finding the same feeling slowly coming back. 
Apparently, all you’d needed were a few minutes and a bold kiss to view him in a different light as an adult. 
And baby hormones. Those definitely helped. You were horny as hell more frequently than you wished and you weren’t getting any. 
The kitchen was one night. Jake’s car was one night. But honestly, both instances had left you even worse off than before.
Your body was feeling it.
He gave you one more sure kiss, slipping his tongue just the slightest bit past your lips. It made your pulse quicken and your neck hot, but he didn’t take it further than that. After he’d opened your door further for you, he’d leaned over to give you a tiny kiss on the cheek. 
“I’ll text you,” he promised, winking your way. 
Nodding, you batted your lashes at him, completely at his mercy for the time being. What the fuck had happened in the span of you leaving class and now? 
Whatever it had been, it didn’t last as strongly as you would’ve wished. Because within minutes, with your R&B playlist blasting, you were feeling your phone vibrate against your lap. And when you picked it up to find Theodore’s name on your screen, you felt utterly disappointed. 
Because as cute and strangely endearing as Theo suddenly was to you again, he was not the man you wanted most. It was proven again, as you saw Theo’s name flash across your screen that the only name you wanted to see on your screen was spelled J-a-k-e. 
-🌼🌼🌼-
“I can’t stay to hang out after your session tonight,” Jake mentioned that evening, making a turn, bringing you closer to Gia’s office. “I’m sorry. Maya has this thing that she really wants me to be at, and I can’t let her down.”
Your heart plummeted in your chest, but you acted as though it hadn’t. As much as it hurt to hang out with him, it hurt worse when he’d leave you for her. 
But. . . You knew that wasn’t fair. You’d stolen her boyfriend from her enough already. For every appointment he had to now drive you to, having him grope you in the kitchen, going down on him in his car. . . 
It would be unfair to act as though she was the one asking for too much. He was hers. Him taking you to therapy was what asked too much, her needing him was quite the opposite. It was normal. 
“That’s okay,” you said, tone especially light as the words left your lips. Damn – good act, y/n. Good job. “I want you to be able to be available to her.” As much as it fucking sucks to watch, it’s what life is now.
“Cool. Thanks,” he responded, sounding the slightest bit caught off-guard. Why? Had he expected you to be disappointed? He would’ve been right, but you weren’t about to let it on.
It was quiet for a few moments, then he came to a stop two streets away from the practice. 
“So,” he started. And, as he moved a hand to turn down your playlist, his delicious, new sandalwood-vanilla scented cologne overwhelmed your ability to properly think. It seemed to exude from him with every action he took. 
Your eyes flicked over his hand at his word, seeing his fist go to rest on his Jeep’s gear shift. God. The way his long fingers wrapped so well around the mechanism . . . . You thought of how they felt on your aching–. 
Shaking your head the slightest, you glanced up at him. And, of course, his hauntingly beautiful side profile was even worse to look at than his strong hands. “What’s up?” You asked, voice stronger than you expected.
“Are you ready for tonight’s session?” He asked, eyes finding yours, earnest and genuinely curious. “Do you know what to expect?”
“Well,” you began, swallowing at what may await you tonight. Your eyes found your hands, fiddling with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “I begin EMDR tonight. I haven’t gone to a dark, nitty-gritty place yet. So, I don’t know what to expect, really, no. . . I’ve only been to my Safe Place. I’m hoping tonight, my brain respects that it’s my first time and doesn’t force me down any too unwanted paths,” you chuckled humorlessly, willing it with your words. “Because I can’t control it – you might’ve read about that during your research. But, that’s why I have the Safe Place that I can escape to when things get too scary.”
Simply put, I’ll find you in the field of Lavender if it becomes too much, you tell him silently, eyes glancing over to his hand again. So strong and sure. . . he really did make you feel so safe. Even when it broke your heart to look at him for too long. 
Goddammit. Your predicament sucked ass.
“Safe Place. . .”
“Yeah, it’s where you go when things become too much in your partial subconscious,” you explained, hoping he wouldn't ask any further about yours. 
“That’s incredibly interesting,” he said, invested in every word. “I have read about it, actually. Lightly, at least. I won’t make you tell me yours. I know it’s a super personal thing,” he assured. Your heart fluttered at his genuine care for the situation. “But yours helps? It’ll be a good place to turn to if things get rocky today?”
“Yeah,” you responded, voice suddenly very teary at the thought of who your Safe Place was. The fact that it was the person sitting next to you, who seemed so honestly caring of the entire situation. Of course your mind had naturally conjured him. The way he made you feel in this moment was enough explanation. Your gaze traveled back over his figure, his soft, black sweater hugging him just right. “It felt like heaven last time,” you breathed, taken by him.
He must have sensed you looking, his eyes catching yours for the briefest moment, scanning your figure so quickly you momentarily thought you’d imagined it. Your tummy somersaulted. Before it could become anything more, the light he’d come to changed to green.
“I’m worried about my heart,” you absentmindedly commented, thinking of your recent run-in with the heart problems and the heart monitor still hidden beneath your shirt. Your eyes were trained on a line of old, weeping trees passing you outside the window. 
He was weaving carefully down a side street in an expensive neighborhood. A neighborhood you’d gotten to know by now on your drives to sessions. Gia’s practice is right around the block. Your heart rate was already increasing at what could be awaiting you when you closed your eyes on her couch. “If it becomes too much, I don’t want my heart to fuckin’ Rick Roll me,” you finished, snorting at the ridiculous analogy. Hardly even made sense.
Jake’s signature laugh bounced throughout the car, sounding like Josh’s . . .but a little different. The sound made your pulse even out. A familiar, nice sound . . . Everything was okay. You’d be okay. 
“Talk to Gia about it beforehand,” Jake suggested, laughter coming to a natural halt. He said the words, right as he pulled into the parking lot of the quaint private practice. “Rick Roll,” he said to himself, under his breath with a sighed laugh.
The office was modernized to the nines inside, all light colors and expensive trimmings. . . But on the outside, all that showed was an older, classic brick office building. 
He switched the car off, pulling the keys from the ignition. The lack of keychains caught your eye, distracting you.
Focus on the matters at hand, y/n. . . 
When he cleared his throat, you looked at him once more. “She will be willing to assist you however you need,” Jake reassured you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Just like she has always done for you. Just trust her.”
“Yeah,” you breathed. Throat clogged with wetness once more, you sniffed as you unbuckled along with Jake. “Trusting is hard for me. Are you coming inside with me?” You couldn’t help but comment on him moving to get out with you.
“Of course I am. I want to be there for you. Waiting in the lobby for you when you get out,” he smiled, opening his door. He looked over at you, raising a brow. “Don’t get out yet. I’ll help you out of this thing.”
Your heart soared at the way he cared, tears daring to fall as he got out to come to your side. 
Seconds later, he was at your door, helping you out of the car. And as you walked through the parking lot to go inside, he huffed a laugh, not as a joke, but as an understanding form of acknowledgment to something. “I get the trust thing, though, honey. Hard for me, too.”
Honey. Always with that nickname these days.
Your line of sight darted to him from the corner of your eye, and you chuckled under your breath to agree. “Yeah. . .,” you said, eyes brushing down to mess with your cuticles for the second time that day. His arm came around your waist briefly, guiding you as you looked down. 
At his touch, your skin became hot through the jacket and t-shirt you wore.
Your mind wandered to a few months ago as he kept a gentle hold on you, keeping you in step with him. The stinging feeling of guilt for making him trust you and then breaking his heart all in a matter of two months. . . . it made you want to scream, cry, yell. . . All at once. 
You did it for his benefit, y/n. Remember? 
But. . . .had you?
Blinking a few times, you focused on the building’s glowing sign, highlighting the early darkness of the winter evening. Finally, you fell back into the conversation, “Trauma response is what I’d call it,” you offered, clearing your throat of any emotion. 
“Exactly,” he concurred. “A coping mechanism.”
Yes! You do get it. Why did you ever have to be an asshole to begin with? Maybe things could’ve been different. . ., your thoughts went back to the first day you’d met him, making your heart lurch in your chest. Or would it have been cut too short, no matter what? Is it simply how my story with you is meant to play out? Have you and then lose you?
The fact that you couldn’t indulge in a relationship with this man was one of the saddest, most unfortunate things the universe could offer you. 
“You ready?” Jake asked, breaking the comfortable silence once you approached the door, his hand on the metal door handle. 
You looked up and into his wide brown eyes, the amber in them sparkling under the parking lot lights. Your eyes studied his face for a second. . . just let yourself have a moment before answering him. Weird as it was, the deep circles under his eyes brought you comfort in that moment. The fact that they were a consistent feature of his, always prominent, made you breathe easier. . . . He was consistent.
He was real. He was here. You were okay. Everything was going to be okay. 
“As I’ll ever be.” 
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: hmmm... ;) what are they getting into? how do you feel about reader being so suddenly interested in theo? what about her plan? do you approve? did you like the bit of insight into jake's perspective?? :o
see you soon for parts 2 + 3, love bugs! <3 prepare yourselves, that's all i'll say........
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padfootdaredmetoo · 10 months
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Hey, could you maybe write something with Tommy where the girl he likes is a bit of a party girl? How would be react to her wild behaviour? 🥂
Hey Anon,
I LOVE this idea! Thank you for sending it in! Hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: heavy drinking, fluff, murder, all the good stuff
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He sat there watching her dance recounting all the times he’d been black-out drunk. None of them resulted in him dancing like a whore in public. Or laughing so loud it carried over the music. 
He didn't understand how the same woman that had single-handedly got him out of a bind with not only another crime family but also the police, was the same woman here dancing on a table. 
Just hours previous to the celebration she had shot a man and now she was here dancing like she always did. 
The club was dark but the pink dress she wore would glow even with the lights out. Her hair was messed up and somehow looked even better that way. 
When she got like this he wondered somewhere in the back of his mind if she was worth pursuing. Parties were her thing. He’d met her as an event coordinator and while she complained about how boring his events were they had got along very well. 
Too well. 
She was always bombarded with men offering her drinks, expensive trips, and houses in tropical lands, and yet she always came back to him. She wanted to be by his side even in the cold British rain. 
She danced until the song stopped then let out a loud squeal when Esme poured more champagne into her mouth. 
“WE WONNNNN” She called out with her bejeweled fist in the air. Everyone erupted into loud cheers around her. 
Getting into clubs to celebrate wasn't an issue for a Shelby, but she had an even easier time. She once got dared to leap off a loft railing onto a chandelier. Not only was it official lore woven into the fabric of London, the owner just shook his head and laughed when she did it. 
She was a friend, valuable business partner, excellent lover, but could she be a wife? His stomach twisted at the thought of being with someone else, that was a feeling he hadn’t felt since Greta. A frown fell on his face. 
Would that be something she wanted? He looked for her again dancing and singing her heart out. Would she feel trapped? 
The night wrapped up and she crawled across the backseat of the cab. She slumped against him and smiled up at him brightly. 
“I saved you today.” She slurred happily.
“Yes, you did.” He answered with the slightest bit of a smile on his lips. 
“You owe me.” She said bringing a well-manicured finger up to push his nose.
“Is that so” He grabbed her jaw gently keeping her face tilted up towards him. Her eyes flared and he didn't know what he would do without her. Even if she wasn't incredible at her job, and networking, even if she was just a party girl, he wouldn't want to be with anyone else. “How can I make it up to you?” 
“Stay with me?” There was a deep sadness in her eyes that took Tommy by surprise. 
“That’s the plan.” He whispered.
“Stay with me forever?” She clarified and he smiled. 
“Forever.” He kissed the top of her head and handed her the box that had been on fire since he started carrying it weeks ago. He felt like he shouldn't give it to her when she was drunk. It should be some grand gesture, a proper event with people around. That’s what she would want, but he felt like it was the moment. 
Her eyes went wide. 
“SHUT UP” She took the box and gave him one last look before opening it. 
“Would you -” 
“YES -” She let out another squeal waving her hands animatedly. After lots of hugging and screaming she rolled down the window to shout at the people on the street.
“I”M GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!” She pointed to her finger and laughed as random people waved and cheered for her. 
Tommy just leaned back into his seat and enjoyed the pure joy that radiated off of his soon-to-be wife. After shouting at a few more people when stopped at red lights she rolled the window up and climbed onto his lap. 
She pressed her lips onto his and they enjoyed the rest of the ride back to their London apartment.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 8 months
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silver springs - d. wagner
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a/n: hi. welcome back. remember the to do list i had? out the window. danny wagner kiss me on the lips challenge. enjoy, yearning sluts. warnings: horny, danny practices writing kissing and grumpy ish reader, right person wrong time, sort of slow burn? idk, death of a sibling, grief, angst, cursing, reader smokes until the end of the fic, reader has tattoos as usual, lots of sex refrences as usual, corny shit as usual. word count: 3.9k (throwing up) summary: the three times daniel wants you, and the one time he gets you. paring: daniel wagner x gn!reader now playing: silver springs - fleetwood mac "i follow you down/till the sound of my voice will haunt you/you'll never get away from the sound/of the woman that loves you."
It all starts when you’re eighteen, fresh off a breakup with a guy who cheated on you. You found him sleeping with a girl from your psych class after you introduced him to at a party. In hindsight, he wasn’t a loss or anything, but you were eighteen. You were stupid and in love and he was all that mattered to you.
After three months of moping around and being miserable because of him, your friend, Veronica, eventually convinced you to get over yourself and go out with her.
You obliged. It was three quarters of the way through your sophomore year and were determined to not let some guy who couldn’t even make you cum ruin your college experience.
And what was this wild experience your friend wanted to do to get you out of your funk?
Well, she decided it would be a concert. A rock concert.
You had heard of Greta Van Fleet a few times—Veronica was straight up obsessed with them. You mostly listened to music your ex-boyfriend listened to, and never really formed an opinion of your own on the matter. You had other stuff to do, you would defend.
At this point in their career, Greta Van Fleet was only just starting; They were playing a small venue nearby, as an opener.
Veronica convinced you to go super early and get a good view with her. What else were you supposed to do on a Saturday? Your homework?
And even you had to admit, they were pretty good. You enjoyed the passion they had for their shows, and they were all pretty good looking.
The drummer especially.
Veronica decided to stick around after their set, grabbing a drink with some guy she had met, while you went outside to smoke.
Smoking was a horrible habit you had picked up, and you fully intended to quit, it just never struck you as the right time. It was a late spring night, the air muggy and buzzing with the lights of the city. You had been going to school in New York for a little less than a year, and you loved every second of it. Sure, you missed your family, who you had left behind in Nashville, especially your sister, but you knew you needed to leave. Even for just a while.
“Can I borrow your lighter?” A voice asks. You whip your head only to see the drummer. What was his name again?
“Yeah, sure.” You take out your lighter and flick it on, letting him light his cigarette with it.
“Thanks.” There’s a silence that fills the air while you smoke, until he eventually extends a hand. “I’m Danny.”
You smile, shaking his hand and giving him your name before adding, “And I know who you are.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yeah, you’re the drummer.” You say coolly, although your heart is racing.
“You like our music?”
“Now I do. Tonight, was your first show of mine.” You explain, “My friend is like,” You cough on smoke, “Obsessed with you.”
Feeling bold, Danny asks, “What if I want you to be obsessed with me?” And it makes you scoff, only you’re only doing it because you’re nervous.
“You flirt with all your fans like this, Drummer?”
“Only the pretty ones.” You just smirk. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth to be, “Come with me to California.”
“What?” You laugh, unable to believe it.
“California. We’re releasing an album later this year, so you should see more of our shows before we become a huge hit.”
“I can’t go to California with you!” You grin, and by the way he’s smiling at you, you know he’s not expecting you to.
“Why not?”
“I have classes, for one!”
“Classes? So pretty and smart?”
“Oh my god, Shut up.”
“What are you majoring in?”
“English. I want to write. Whatever they’ll have me write, articles, books, what the fuck ever, you know what I mean?”
And he does. He gets it because that’s the way he feels about writing music.
“I get it.” He answers.
“So, I can’t come with you to California.”
“No, I guess not. But when you get a job writing, you’ll let me come find you? Ghostwrite my memoir, write a scathing review of us, what the fuck ever, as you so delicately put it?”
“Deal.” You agree.
“Then, I’ll see you, Sugar.” You stop at the name, turning to him. “What?” He asks.
“That’s what my family calls me.” He laughs. “I’m being serious!” You argue.
“No, you’re not—” He realizes you most definitely are. “Why would they call you that?”
“Because my sister is the nice one, and I am an asshole.”
“No fucking way.”
“What, did ‘What the fuck ever’ not give you enough of a hint? She’s Spice, and I’m Sugar, only Sugar stuck.” You say, finishing your cigarette.
“Well, Sugar. At least let me give you my number if I can’t take you to California.”
“Deal.” You agree, but before he can, his friends from the band are calling him, and you know Veronica must be wondering where you are. And he doesn’t have his phone on him or a pen, and your phone is dead.
Fuck.
“Hey—” He pulls you close with one arm, his other hand still with a cigarette. He puts it in his mouth so his hand can reach down and pull your lighter out of your pocket. “I’ll give this back when we meet again, alright?” He asks, his words a little murmured because of the cigarette.
You’re usually cynical. You could’ve told him to fuck off and took the lighter back. But you don’t.
Instead, you kiss his jaw and mutter, “Okay. Later, Drummer.” He pockets the lighter, and starts walking back to his friends, only backwards to face you still.
“See you soon, Sugar!” He calls.
It’s only when you get back to Veronica that your brain clears enough to remember that your full name is on the lighter. You hope he’ll use it to come find you.
• • •
So, the next few years fly by and before you know it, you’ve been out of school for around a year now, and you’re happier than ever. You’re staying in Tennessee, staying with your sister and your niece. You’re apartment hunting, starting a new job as soon as the New Year comes, but you have ulterior motives.
You’re getting ready in her bathroom as she leans against the door frame, watching you. Your niece sits on the edge of the tub. She just turned six and is learning all about the world. You love watching her grow, except for one teensy little thing—
“Why does Sugar get to go see Greta and I don’t?” She asks your sister.
“Because Sugar has big kid money, and you spend your allowance on Barbie.” Your niece just huffs. You grin as you finish fixing your hair. You crouch down to her level, and push hair from her face.
“How ‘bout this? I’ll take lots of photos for you, and get you a shirt, and I’ll take you on their next tour, okay?”          
She considers this for a moment.
“And you’ll say hi to Jake for me?” While you are in Danny Lane, Duh, she is strictly obsessed with Jake Kiszka.
“Of course, I will! Duh! He’s gonna love a message from his best girl.” You say it as if it’s obvious. She giggles and stands, giving you a quick hug before you have to leave.
“You’re so good with her. And nice too, I never expected that.” Your sister says as she walks you to the door.
“Don’t expect me to go soft with you, too. She’s the exception.” Your sister just smiles as she stands in the door, watching you walk down the walkway.
“Be safe!” She calls.
“Bye, Mom!” You say dramatically as you get in her car to drive to the venue with.
The show is amazing, as usual. Since their career has taken off, you’re only a more active fan, always keeping tabs.
You keep tabs to see if Danny is taking anyone. He does. You don’t know if that’s true for right now, but you know he has since you saw him. So have you. It’s ridiculous to assume you’d stop your lives for one flirty encounter when you were 18.
After the show, you notice people grouped around, waiting to see if the boys make an appearance. You don’t have anywhere to be. You stick around.
An hour or two passes. You smoke, lending cigarettes to other people waiting, and the number of folks start to dwindle down. But the summer is coming to an end, and you know that this might be one of the last times you can stay out this late without freezing for a while.
And wouldn’t you know it, Sam and Danny come out to say hi. And Sam is lovely, of course he is! He’s sweet and funny, and even more handsome in person.
But Danny makes your heart race. You grin to him, and it takes him a second before he breaks out in a grin, as he approaches you. Before you can say anything he just hugs you, and holds you for a while. He pulls away and looks at you, uttering your full name, as it was written on your lighter.
“Danny...” you say softly, and he just keeps smiling at you. His curls look healthier. He looks healthier.
“Hi, Sugar.” He says gently.
“You remembered that stupid nickname, Oh God...” you groan.
“And you still hate it.”
“Mm... maybe not so much when you say it. Maybe not when my niece says it.”  Because it stuck so well, your niece just grew up knowing your name as Sugar, and not much else.
“Your niece?”
“Stevie, she’s an angel, and in love with Jake Kiszka.” You admit.
“I’ll extend the message. Stevie, is that a reference to the true queen of breakup songs?”
“Yes, of course.” You assure. You can’t stop staring at him. His eyes wander down to your arm, to your wrist.
“Cool tattoo.” It’s a lighter. It’s corny, you know that. And part of you didn’t even get it because of him. Half of you just thought it would be cool. But there was a part that hoped he’d see it one day.
“Well, some asshole took my last lighter and hasn’t given it back, so I figured no one can steal this one.” He laughs and shakes his head.
“You’re funny, Sugar.”
“Well...” You shrug softly, “You can keep the lighter by the way.” You assured. “No hard feelings.” He grins, pulling it out of his pocket and waving it at you.
“Thanks. And hey, maybe I could give you something of mine, too?” This confuses you until he pulls off the necklace he’s wearing and drops it in your hands. You look down at it, and your face flushes. It’s a long leather cord, with a milky stone shaped like a moon.
“Does this mean I won’t be getting your number tonight?” You ask, as your hand closes over the necklace. He smiles at you and shakes his head.
“It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I’m going to be on tour for a while, and you live in New York—”
“I’m moving to Tennessee. Nashville. For work.” You assure. He smiles wider.
“Then when I get back. I’ll come find you.” He speaks. “Are you in the writing business yet?”
“Getting there.” You tell him.
“Then I’ll find you in the future.” He assures, as Sammy calls his name back at the door where he came from. How come it always ends this way? How come you always have to say goodbye to him? Especially when he looks this good? Your heart aches for him already. You want him to kiss you. But instead, you lean up and kiss his jaw, and he smiles down at you when you pull away.
“See you soon, Sugar.” He says gently. It’s quieter this time. You know he means it. He pulls away, and takes one last long look at you, and turns just before you can see tears in his eyes, and just before he can see tears in yours.
• • •
The rest of the year flies, and your new job starts, about twenty minutes from where you live, and only fifteen from your sister and niece. You get a raise three months in, and it’s just in time for you to buy your niece tickets to the Starcatcher World Tour. You’ll be the first show of a long tour, and you know you can’t stay like you did last time. Besides, he won’t come out to see the fans, not after such a long night.
You bring something for him just in case.
But your niece and you have a great time, despite this being your first show without being in the pit. You have first row lower bowl seats.
Ticketmaster is your sworn enemy, and you’ve won every battle with them lately. Fuck ‘em.
Because it’s the first show of the tour, everything is new, and you don’t know what to expect. You especially don’t expect a ten-minute drum solo from Danny.
…It makes you want him desperately.
When they move to the B stage, you’re still a little caught up in him, but that is nothing compared to when they exit the B stage and start handing out flowers. Danny doesn’t really have any flowers, but Jake is walking right in front of him, and right towards you.
Your niece freaks the fuck out. Because she is a Jake girl, and Jake is right there. He sees her small hands and grins, handing her a rose, and clasping her hand with his for a moment before continuing his walk. You’re so caught up in this moment that you don’t register that Danny is quickly approaching.
And then you do, and you’re one of the many calling out to him, as he smiles and clasps his hands with theirs.
Instead of Danny, you call, “Hey, Drummer!” and somehow, during all this chaos, he sees you. And he’s grinning like an idiot.
He stops for a second, pulling you forward, and before you know it, he’s taking about twenty seconds to kiss you.
It’s deep, passionate, and full of the raw need that you’ve felt since seeing his drum solo. Everyone around you is freaking out as you slip what you bought to give him into his hand.
He must leave though, and he slips what you’ve given him in his pocket, pulling away, and whispering quickly,
“See you soon, Sugar.” He leaves, and you’re left to the screaming fans around you, including your niece, who can’t believe anything that just happened.
The show goes on, and there’s a new energy about Danny.
Everyone on twitter goes wild about your interaction.
When he gets off stage that night, he pulls out what you gave him from his pocket, and sees it’s a polaroid picture of you, in your bathing suit and sunglasses, on the beach.
He uses it to get through rough nights on tour.
• • •
The next year or so goes by in a whirlwind—In the worst way possible. Work is going well, you don’t date anymore, delusional about your Drummer, and for a while, everything is fine.
Until your sister slides off the road during a snowstorm and is killed on impact.
You go from taking care of Stevie when your sister needed a break, to being her legal guardian.
It is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. You balance your work life with your grief, newfound parental duties, and helping Stevie through the loss of her mother. Her father was never in her life, and you find yourself moving into your sister’s house, so Stevie doesn’t have to move schools.
You watch her attempt to process this huge loss at eight years old. She doesn’t listen to music anymore; she doesn’t want to celebrate her birthday and she doesn’t want to sleep without a nightlight.
You hold her while she cries for her mom.
You hold your mom while she cries for her daughter.
No one holds you as you sob, longing for your sister.
You will yourself to be good. To be nice and not let the grief suffocate you, you need to be there for your best girl, she cannot do this without you. But it’s so hard. You’re angry with the world, with yourself, with her, why couldn’t she have just stayed the night at her friends? You will yourself to channel that stupid nickname. You will yourself to be good.
The winter is hard, but as the season thaws, so does your grief. It’s still hard, but the kitchen fills again with the smell of pizza and baked goods, with the sound of Foo Fighters and Guns N Roses, and with your niece’s laughter.
You talk about your sister openly, never hiding your own grief from Stevie, and never being afraid to tell her stories of her mom.
You get a tattoo on what would have been your sister’s birthday. It’s just her birth flower.
Under it, in her handwriting, is “Sugar and Spice.” It’s right beneath your lighter tattoo. It’s the only time you’ve ever cried getting a tattoo.
Summer comes, and your office has no A.C. It’s a critically hot day in Nashville, Stevie is being watched by your mom. You’re editing a new chapter from a high-end client, just finishing it up before you head home for the day. Really, your day ended ten minutes ago, but you’re still working. Until you get a call from your office’s front lobby.
When you answer it, it’s just Jane, the security guard.
“Hey, Jane, what can I do for you?” You ask, rubbing your eyes from finally unfocusing from your computer screen.
“Hey, Kid. Just wanted to see if you were okay with company. Pretty boy says he’s here to see you.” You furrow your brows. Pretty boy? There have been no pretty boys in your life recently.
“What’s his name?” You ask quizzically. You hearJane asking for a name.
“Says his names Danny, and—” You stand, making sure your draft is saved before you turn off your computer, grabbing your things, and remembering she’s waiting for a response.
“Uh—Tell him I’ll be right there!” You say quickly before hanging up, then dash to the elevator, wishing it to go faster. It takes forever.
When the doors open, he stands in front of you, as if he was waiting to take the next elevator up. You just grin and lunge, hugging him tightly. He returns the sentiment. You hold each other there, just embracing each other and taking the other in. You pull away to really look at him.
You haven’t been active on social media since you took guardianship of Stevie, too busy. So, you haven’t seen him in a while. He looks phenomenal. His hair is shorter, but he wears two gold hoop earrings, a grey muscle tee, and has the same smile. His hair has this slight highlight to it, and his skin is tanner, his freckles enunciated.
You want to kiss him.
But you stand back from him for a moment to turn to Jane and thank her, and then you pull him outside, onto the busy streets. You walk for a few minutes in silence, turning here and there. You eventually lead him to duck into a quiet, relatively clean alley way. It’s in a quieter part of town, and you lean against one wall, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your shirt, heart racing in anticipation. He leans against the wall, looking at you.
He can see the leather cord around your neck. It pushes him over the edge.
Suddenly, his hands are on your cheeks as he begins kissing you. His lips are just as soft as you remember, but his hands are rough. They must be calloused, even blistered from guitar and drums. You deepen the kiss. It’s heavy, and hot, much like the day around you.
It makes you want him more.
You pull him closer, by grabbing his shirt and pulling him against you. He tilts his head for better access, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’ve wanted this for years. Your hands leave his shirt, trailing up to tangle in those locks of his.
You finally pull away when you can’t stand to be without air anymore. But as soon as you do, you find yourself kissing him again. Not as deeply this time, but with just as much need. You kiss him again and again, your skin burning.
When he pulls away for real, panting, he leans his head on the wall behind you, his hot breath on your collar bone.
“Found me, Drummer…”
“Found you, Sugar…” He says softly.
“How? Why?” He pulls back to look at your face.
“How? You’re on your company’s website. Why? What do you mean why? Why? Because for the past six fucking years, I have only had enough of you to keep me wanting you, and every time I’m able to stop dreaming about you and your perfect lips, I am pulled back in by fate, seeing you always. And when I kissed you last year... It snapped something in me. You ruined everyone else for me, and I still had to wait. I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m not on tour, I’m here for a long time. I need you...” He says your name gently when he realizes you have this terrified look on your face.
“I… I can’t just… Danny, I’m my niece’s legal guardian. I will always have an obligation to her first, I can’t run off with you… Can’t go with you to California...” You tell him weakly.
“That’s okay.” In truth, Danny always wanted kids, and sure, he wasn’t planning on a kid just now, but he’s sure you can make this work. “When did this happen?”
“January… When my sister died.” You tell him, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it cracks with emotion. He just kisses you quickly and holds you.
“I still need you. I’d love to meet your niece.” He says once you’ve pulled away. You grin.
“She’s a big fan of yours.”
“More of a Jake girl, I hear.” He smirks. It makes you laugh.
You straighten yourself out, ready to take him to your house, have him meet Stevie, and just jump into it. Fuck it. What have you got to lose after waiting for him for six years?
Before you can make it out of the alley, he grabs your hand and says your name again. He takes out his—your lighter, and places it in your hand. You gave up smoking the night your sister died.
“I don’t need it right now, sugar. I told you, when I saw you again, it would be yours. And now we don’t have to say goodbye in two minutes.” It’s enough to make you lean forward and kiss him again.
You take his hand and begin walking with him. There’s no need to long for him anymore.
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tapesfrom1980 · 8 days
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first meet premiere , walker scobell x fem! actress reader
ps: for the dress, think greta lee’s oscars after party ‘24. this was so half assed i’m so sorry
“oh my god y/n!”
y/n grinned as she threw open the hotel room door to reveal her bestfriend, mckenna.
“look at you! you could walk on a runaway right now and no one would think you’re out of place.” mckenna gushed as she hugged her bestfriend.
“me? i feel like i should be bowing down at you just by being able to look at you!” y/n laughed as she pulled away from the hug.
it was the premiere night for ghostbusters: frozen empire. mckenna had invited a couple of her friends, including y/n. y/n knew she was extremely proud of the movie and wanted her loved ones there with her.
“i am so excited. i really hope you love the movie as much as i do.”
“i already know it’s gonna be amazing. thank you for inviting me.” y/n smiled warmly at the blonde girl.
“AND you’re gonna meet walker, aryan, charlie, leah, and dior. they’ve been so busy with the press but now you’ll be able to meet them! especially walker.” mckenna winked knowingly as she sat down on the hotel room bed.
y/n rolled her eyes playfully and sat down next to her. “i will actually hurt you if you try anything today mckenna.” mckenna feigned hurt and gasped dramatically.
“what ever are you talking about my dearest y/n? i would never do anything like that.” y/n bumped her shoulder jokingly.
“i’m excited to meet them though.” mckenna raised her eyebrows suggestively. “all of them mckenna.” y/n waved her off.
“besides, tonight is going to be all about you. i’m not focusing on some guy instead of my best friend.” y/n laid her head on the blonde girl’s shoulder.
“i know, but it would make me really happy if you guys finally talked.” mckenna laid her head on top of y/n’s. “i know you better than anyone y/n and i know you’re gonna have a good time with walker.”
y/n groaned dramatically but smiled.
“alright, alright. let’s get going.” y/n stood up and held out her hand for mckenna to grab.
“we are going to have. so. much. fun.”
-
“aryan! oh my gosh!” mckenna rushed to engulf a tall brown boy in a hug. y/n smiled fondly as she watched them. she realized the rest of the group was behind him and pursed her lips.
fuck.
“guys! this is the girl ive been telling you about, my bestfriend, y/n l/n!” mckenna pulled away from aryan and pulled y/n next to her.
“hi guys.” y/n smiled and waved shyly to the group, suddenly feeling very anxious.
“you look beautiful y/n! i love your dress!” leah went to give y/n a hug, dior following.
“thank you! i love your makeup!” y/n grinned, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence.
“dior your hair looks stunning. i’m so jealous.” y/n complimented, genuinely amazed by the girl.
“me?? look at you!” dior beamed.
“this is charlie, that’s aryan as you already know,” mckenna grinned. “and that’s walker.” y/n looked up at the 3 boys in front of her.
she had already met aryan and loved him, but she had yet to meet charlie and walker.
“it’s so good to see you again aryan.” y/n wrapped her arms around aryans neck and squeezed him.
“you look amazing as always, y/n.” aryan smiled back at the girl as they pulled away. y/n thanked him and turned to charlie.
“it’s so nice to meet you charlie, hi!!” y/n beamed, feeling a rush of adrenaline upon meeting the group.
“it’s really lovely meeting you y/n, i can’t believe mckennas been hiding you for this long.” charlie joked as mckenna rolled her eyes.
“i’ve been telling you for ages how great she is.” she huffed as y/n laughed.
“and this is walker.” mckenna smirked knowingly. y/n took a deep breath and turned to the boy behind her. he had been awfully quiet the entire time and in a trance. it wasn’t until aryan shoved his shoulder slightly that he came to.
“you look beautiful y/n.” walker breathed out. he admired the dress she was wearing. it was a white silky custom Loewe dress with the back exposed. her hair was in a wavy sleek middle part, tucked behind her ears on both sides with golden clips.
y/n felt her face warm, but smiled nonetheless. “thank you. you look really nice too.” she ignored her heart pounding inside her chest and wrapped her arms around walker, who was slightly towering over her.
y/n’s face was hot, and she refused to glance at mckenna as she knew what she would be doing.
“sooo, are you guys ready?”
-
“if i take one more step i think my legs will actually snap off.”
the 4 girls threw themselves on the bed. leah’s face was smushed into the comforter, 100% leaving traces of her makeup on it. dior groaned and covered herself with as much of the blanket as she could. y/n and mckenna held each other dramatically like they haven’t slept in 10 years.
soon after the premiere, they had attended the after party that lasted for almost 4 hours.
“my head is killing me.” y/n grumbled against mckennas neck. the guys were in the same mood, not bothering to take their suit jackets off. y/n couldn’t see them but she figured they too, were slumped.
y/n decided to get up after a couple of minutes, refusing to sleep with her makeup on. the girls were long gone in sleep and y/n was careful to not wake them.
she looked down at mckenna, realizing one of her lashes was now stuck on the blondes shoulder. y/n snickered quietly to herself, taking off her heels before getting up.
“you look just as gorgeous you know, one lash and all.” y/n jumped as she turned around, realizing walker was still awake.
they had talked more at the after party but the obvious mutual attraction between the 2 made y/n shy away from him.
“you’re funny.” y/n playfully rolled her eyes, smiling at him tiredly. he flashed her the same smile back but continued.
“i’m serious.”
“you’re really sweet walker.” they held eye contact for a couple of seconds before y/n finally looked away.
she realized mckenna was right, she didn’t wanna keep hiding away.
“do you wanna go for a walk?”
“yes.” without skipping a beat, walker got up.
“okay.” she pursed her lips to hide her excitement. remembering how cold it was outside, she let her eyes scanned the room as she tried to remember where her jacket was.
“shit, i left my jacket in my room.” y/n covered her face with her hands in frustration. so much for a walk alone with him.
“are you trying to get out of this walk with me? because it’s not going to work.” walker joked with a raised brow. he walked over to y/n and took off his suit jacket and placed it around her instead. he stood inches away from her, fixing it to make sure she’d be nice and warm.
y/n tried to avoid eye contact, heart racing as he delicately put it on her. she swore she was going to pass out.
“won’t you get cold?” y/n looked up at him, trying to hide her giddiness. walker shook his head with a small smile.
“don’t worry about it. i’d rather walk in the cold then miss this opportunity. especially with you.”
“i’m gonna punch you.” y/n grinned at the curly haired boy, taking his hand and quickly exiting the room together. after closing the door shut, she realized she didn’t take a keycard to be able to come back with. or her phone.
as if walker was reading her mind, he laughed out loud. “don’t worry, we’ll just knock till the door falls off and one of them wakes up.” y/n laughed but nodded.
“come on!” she gripped tighter onto his hand and started running down the hotel hallway. the pair tried to contain their laughs as they knew if they got caught they’d be sent back to their rooms.
“where are we going?” walker asked between breaths.
“i don’t know!” y/n beamed back at him.
they ran until they found a door that brought them outside. y/n sighed in content as the cold air hit her. she hesitantly let go of walkers hand and she swore she saw him about to hold it again.
“the breeze feels so nice.” y/n closed her eyes happily and stood still for a second. when she opened them again, she looked back at walker who was gazing at her with a smile.
“what?” she smiled back at him, suddenly feeling shy underneath his gaze.
“would you ever wanna like…i don’t know..hang out? go out?” walker blurted out at last. y/n grinned and took a step closer.
“is the walker scobell asking me out?” she gasped playfully. she swears she saw his face get red.
“yes. i am.” he admitted genuinely.
“i’d love to.”
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y/n.l/n: late night shenanigans 😴 @walker.scobell
walker.scobell: I wonder who this handsome mysterious young lad is
y/n.l/n: 😬😬i wouldn’t say all that..
mckennagraceful: I KNEW IT.
y/n.l/n: LEAVEEE
aryansimhadri: WHEN WAS THIS??? HELLO??
leahsavajeffries: You and me both Aryan
87 notes · View notes
mvltisstuff · 9 months
Note
so sorry to bother you! how’s summer going so far?
could i request a buck x reader inspired by the song “what was i made for?”, like in particular the lines “im sad again, don’t tell my boyfriend, its not what he’s made for”. i’m struggling with some stuff and this song bring me comfort, i thought that maybe you could combine the two things that make my day less heavy.
if not its completely fine! thank you anyway🫶🏻
what was i made for - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
gif from @housewifebuck <3
a/n: my summers been going well, thank you for asking! i hope your summer is going beautifully, and i hope august brings you the best! the barbie movie actually touched my heart so bad… i hate you greta gerwig (i love you thank you for barbie and little women pls never stop making movies) i kind of made this as my interpretation of the song, but i hope you feel connected to this as well <3 i’m not too sure how i feel about this yet, but i wanted to get something out for you.
bucks filled with glory every day. he walks into a room with a bright smile on his face, making everyone feel safe and loved. y/n loves his lovely grin, savoring every minute she can get with him. the moment she met him on shift, she knew that he was someone incredible.
she works at another station near the 118, and she also lives with buck in his apartment. missing him everyday, she comes home into his arms and everything goes away. he seems so calm, and she doesn’t understand how he does it. all he’s been through, and all he sees on the daily. it’s starting to feel like she could crumble up at work, and it’s formed a new branch of displeasure in her life.
when y/n got her new placement in california, she thought the station would be more of a warm welcome. when she walked in, the masculine energy was almost overwhelming. she didn’t want to get her hopes up, maybe it won’t be that bad after all.
the small comments were what did it. their humbling chuckles afterwards were the cherry on top. they weren’t outright degrading her for her gender, but the hints of misogyny peeked their way through.
it made every single day hell, her not getting to work to her fullest and being held down by the other firemen. she fought to get into the academy, and she worked her ass off every day. she’s as good, if not better, as everyone here, but they’re too blind with ignorance to see it. the worst part is that they seem like genuine people to everyone else. y/n felt like she had to fight to get a grain of respect, but the rest of her team accepts everyone else effortlessly.
she never once thought about this as a teenager, thinking about her dream job. she never imagined that she’d be tied down with ropes over something she could not control. y/n longed for that naivety again. when she could go about her life, not worrying about what anyone else thought. she wore her clothes however she wanted, and it stopped too early. she watched the men around her, and slowly realized that they’re not her friends. reality set in and took its course, slowing her down with the weight of society. she just wishes it could go back to the way it was when she was young and uneducated, and she never realized how quickly it ended.
she doesn’t say a word to buck about her days. she replies with a single word and she lets her boyfriend talk about his day. she’s sure it’s better than his, and there’s a part of her that envies him. their line of work isn’t easy for anyone, but somehow, it looked much easier on her boyfriend than it did for her.
firefighting once was her dream, her passion. now, it was her burden, her chore.
y/n didn’t want to fall into the stereotype of the ‘weak’ women who couldn’t handle the pressure. she stayed, letting herself fall behind as the others moved ahead. every single day was exhausting, and she wondered why she ever was told the saying, ‘you were born to do this’.
the days became monotonous, the same bullshit every day at work and then going home to sleep. it’s insane how words can hurt more than anything else, as they stole more of her energy with every remark and joke. she tried so hard not to let it get to her, but it just wore her out. was it really worth it if she was being treated like this?
buck noticed the changes in her attitude whenever they were to meet up again. he didn’t want to bother her, so he never mentioned it. he was so scared to make it worse. he’s gotten too much backlash from trying to make things better, so he tries to keep more to himself.
it became more visible to him the pain y/n had. she looked disappointed every morning, any mention of work, her face dropped. he never heard good things about where she worked, but he didn’t question it too much.
the five-alarm fire was the day buck finally pieces together the puzzle. he crossed paths with her, stopping to see her as the fire was settling down and was now under control. he had just ran back out, throwing his gear onto the engine and moving over to y/n.
“y/n!” he beams, seeing a corner of her mouth creep up. he was the sunshine in her dreary days, and she couldn’t help but feel a little hope when she saw him. it wasn’t enough of a cover for buck not to notice though. “how are you doing tonight? i think i’m off after this, if you wanna get drinks before going home?”
y/n wants to agree, to see her real friends at the 118, but she has a premonition that she’ll be exhausted anyway.
“sorry, buck,” she sighs. “i’m kind of tired already, and i just wanted to go home tonight.”
“that’s ok,” he tells her, still off about her mood. “hey, you know you can talk to me, right?”
“yeah, why?”
“i just feel like somethings wrong. i don’t want to make you upset but i don’t want you to be hurting alone.”
“i’m not hurting, buck,” she says through laughs, but he sees right through it.
“hey, what’s goi-“
“y/l/n!” her captain yells out. “did you get those files from earlier about the last five alarm?”
“not yet, sir,” she turns. “i was out on a call. i asked derosa to grab them for me before i left.”
her captain turns to face him, who just shrugs and comes up with an excuse. “sorry, cap, i forgot about getting those.”
“don’t worry about it,” he groans. “i told you to get those asap, what have you been doing?”
“i’ve been working, cap,” she replies back to him. it’s a clear answer, no lies or attitude.
“i don’t need the sass, y/l/n,” he sighs, looking down at her. she’s done what she’s asked, she’s saved lives and somehow it’s not enough. “i’ll be expecting those when we get back.”
he walks away, boots stomping and crunching on the cement beneath him. y/n turns back around to buck. “i guess i’ll be in a little after than you.”
“but didn’t the other guy forge-“
“buck, stop,” she tells him. “it’s nothing to worry about.”
“no, it matters to me if they’re not treating you right.”
“i’m being treated fine,”
“he just rolled his eyes at you and let the guys mock you. if derosa said the same thing, he’d be moving on,” buck throws one of his hands up, increasing y/n’s anxiety as he gets more and more upset. he can see it now, what’s been going on. he doesn’t see another woman with the same number on her helmet. y/n tries to deescalate the matter, but buck only wants to persevere and help. he knows he can, and he’s confused why she doesn’t want him too.
“i know what you want to do, but trust me, it only makes things worse. they don’t need to see my boyfriend defending me, it’s just another thing they can throw at me.”
“y/n, please-“
“no, buck!” her voice grows in volume, making her team look at her more. “just… i’ll see you at home, ok?”
he can see the slight shine in her eyes and she shakiness in her hands. he knows she gets like this when she’s anxious, and he feels even worse. he never, ever wanted to make it harder on her, and he can sense that he might’ve. when y/n turns to walk back to her engine, he overhears the little comments again.
“c’mon, y/l/n!” one of the men teases. “do you need a shoulder to cry on, sweetheart?”
“a smile would look nice on you,” another says. buck has no clue what to do. he knows anything he does will just fall onto her lap. he curses that it’s this way, but he knows he has to try and make a change.
he gets settled at home, the late hours of the night settling in. he’d been home for a while, y/n walking in with a folder in her hands and a weakened expression on her face. he stand up instantly, walking over to her and taking her bag to set it down. he lets the silence fill for a moment before speaking again.
“why didn’t you tell me they were like this?”
“you wouldn’t get it, buck.”
“i know that i don’t, but i want to hear you,” he tries to get her to open up, wanting so badly to comfort her through this. the reminders only aggravate her, and she feels guilty for feeling this way toward buck. he’s never done anything wrong, but she feels like everything is on her right now.
“fine,” she drops her phone down on the counter as he sits on one of the barstools. “that’s not even the worst they’ve said. i get shit like that every single day because they’re threatened by me. i have been getting through all my testing to get the hell out of there because it never stops. how i work, how i clean, how i look, if i wear make-up to work, i’m trying too hard, if i don’t wear any, i don’t look professional enough. if i try and intervene to give them the best option, i’m abrasive and bossy. if i don’t say anything, i’m submissive and that’s exactly what they want! i am nothing but a decoration for them. i am treated like a probie when i have probably been working twice as hard to get to where they are. maybe, if i had a dick, they’d say im a hard worker and i’d be praised, but im just a woman. and there is nothing anyone can do about it.”
buck looks into her eyes, seeing them fill with self-pity and hopelessness. he sees the tiredness in her eyes, his heart breaking even more. he fumbled with his fingers, not sure of what to say. “so, i have to help myself. on my own, buck. or the loop will start all over again.”
“i- um, i don’t-,” he mumbles, not really knowing what to say. “im so, so sorry, y/n.”
“you don’t have to be sorry, love,” she says. “i love you more than anything, but i never knew how sick i could get of men being this way.”
buck stands, walking over to her and taking her hands in his. “i want to help you. i’ll never understand what this feels like, but you have to know that i’m here for you.”
“i know, buck,” she smiles a little, starting to disintegrate the pain in her face. “i just didn’t know this was a competition.”
the night moves on, nothing at work changing despite bucks efforts. he texted his whole team, ranting and complaining and being taken aback by the way his sister and hen said, “that’s just how it is sometimes.” y/n pushes through the next few weeks, as well as cramming in any exams she has to move up and out of this station that can’t handle her.
when she’s alerted about a new position at the 118 from a retired firefighter, she knows what she has to do. she knows what she’ll say, but she knows the truth. she is worth more than any of what those men might say to her.
the last shift she has, she packs up her things as everyone leaves their usual stuff in. she has an extra bag, stuffing her belongings that she usually leaves there. “you finally fleeing, y/l/n?” her coworker says, gaining laughs from the rest of the men in the locker rooms.
“they all do, eventually.”
“actually, i got a job somewhere else,” she grins, looking down at them, watching them slip their shoes on as she stands up. they barely look at her, not a care in the world that she’s leaving. she’s reminded of the rankings at the 118, and how all of these firefighters would kill to be working at the highest station around.
“where, dispatch?” one jokes.
“the new lieutenant spot at the 118 is mine,” she tells them, turning heads as she picked up the rest of her stuff and started to head out the door. y/n can sense the jealousy on each of them creeping up. she peeks her head in one last time. “have fun here, firemen.”
as she drives home, she knows she has buck waiting for her. when she walks in, she knows she won. she has one of the highest spots in the city and the most loving man in her arms. buck noticed the change in her, seeing her at work finally content in a workplace free of scrutiny. she feels whole again, knowing that she’s wanted and appreciated here. it’s a family now, and it’s everything she’s wanted.
when buck sees that bright smile that he missed dearly walk back in the front door, he knows that he’s won.
272 notes · View notes
stardustbarbarians · 3 months
Text
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Enchanted
A Daniel Wagner / Samuel Kiszka fic
Summary: Sometimes it takes some meddling to see what is right in front of you.
Tags: fluff, love spell au, very light angst, low-key funny
Words: 10.8 k
Author's Note: Happy (late) Valentine's Day!! I literally got the idea for this one the day of the holiday and proceeded to write this, thinking it would be at max like 2,000 words. So, yeah, this one kinda got away from me. Anyway, this is dedicated to @ofthecaravel for being more enthusiastic about this idea than I was (she also made the cover pic so everyone say thank you, Karou). Title taken from Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Please enjoy!! <3
+++
When Danny had the idea to go to the art fair near his house, he hadn’t thought he’d be walking away with an honest to god love potion. I mean, those aren’t real, right?? It’s all just made up for awful rom-coms and Disney movies. So, when that witchy woman had stopped him and gave it to him for free, he thought nothing of it. 
He had been weaving through the various booths, eyes catching on all the colorful and sometimes gaudy wares these artists were trying to pedal. Some of them were honestly good, others were just clearly trying to make a quick buck. Danny bought a few things; a few jewelry pieces he thought were cute and a fresh squeezed lemonade. 
“Danny?” a woman had spoken up, catching the drummer’s attention. He tensed up at being called out, hoping he wouldn’t be recognized but knowing it was always a possibility every time he left his house. 
Schooling his features to be warm and inviting, Daniel turned on his heel to face the woman. She was what Danny could only describe as a “contemporary witch”, complete with long, black hair and a revealing yet classy black dress and a wide-brimmed black hat. Danny had to suppress his scoff at how on the nose she looked, glancing around her clearly witch-themed, yet populated, booth. But, it clearly worked to help sell her goods, so who was he to judge. 
“Hey!” he responded, abandoning his wandering and making his way over to her. She smiled widely at him, her eyes lighting up as he approached. 
“Oh, my god. My friends are never gonna believe me,” she rushed, her tattooed hands fluttering to her chest. 
“How about we get a picture to prove it to them?” he offered, having gone through this enough times over the years to know that that was what most people were after when they spotted him. 
She nodded, searching frantically for her phone. When she pulled it out from behind the register, Daniel noticed two things. One; her hands were shaking. Two; her lock screen was a picture of him and Sam posed together. It was a picture of them on stage, embracing and beaming at one another and - wow, is that really what he looks like when he smiles at Sam? 
They took their picture, her asking for a hug from him which he happily gave her. 
“So, what brings you over this way?” the woman - ironically named Greta - asked, leaning against the table she had set her register up on. Danny worried for a second as her long hair passed over a candle, only for him to realize it wasn’t real. 
“Had a free afternoon to myself, thought I’d check the art fair out,” he answered honestly, a shrug of his shoulders tacked on at the end. 
She nodded acceptingly. “Find anything interesting?” 
Danny held up his fingers, wiggling them to show off the rings he purchased as well as shook his cup of lemonade in front of her, smiling. She laughed, her head tipping back a bit to show off a moth tattoo that rested under her clavicles. 
“That’s all, huh? You must be pretty picky.” She looked him up and down, her eyes feeling strangely like they were able to see past his physical form. Danny blamed that on the witch-themed booth she ran. 
Danny shrugged again. He didn’t think he was, but then again maybe he was. 
“Here,” she blurted out, jumping up from her perch to brush past him to go deeper into her booth. Daniel watched as she stopped in front of a display of bowls that held vials of various shapes and sizes. Each one was sorted by color, some of them even seeming to glow which made Daniel do a double take. There was probably just a light fixed at the base of the bowl to give them that effect. 
“On the house,” Greta chirped before tossing something at Daniel. He instinctively caught it, letting out a breath of relief that he had. When he got a proper look at it, Danny realized that she had thrown him a vial of baby pink liquid that had been sealed in a teardrop shaped glass vial. The top was a gradient into Barbie pink and formed to a point, sharp enough to probably kill a man. Daniel turned it over in his hand, the liquid sparkling in the light of the sun streaming in through an opening in the tent he was in. 
“What is this?” he dumbly asked, already knowing what the hell it was. 
“A love potion,” Greta flippantly answered. When Danny snapped his head up to look at the woman, he saw the mischievous glint in her eye that never reached her soft smile. 
Daniel coughed on his own spit as he swallowed wrong. He covered it up by taking a few sips of his lemonade. He had no idea how to react to that. 
“Uhh… that’s really kind of you, but I can’t take this.” 
“Nonsense. I insist,” she pressed, waving off his concerns with a wave of her hand. 
Daniel looked back and forth between the woman and the vial in his hand, weighing the pros and cons. Then he realized how ridiculous he was being. It was a kind gesture and love potions weren’t real. 
He tucked the vial into his pocket of his jean jacket and smiled. “Thanks!” 
“My pleasure,” she answered, that devilish gleam back in her eye as well as that feeling that she was seeing through him rather than at him, “and trust me, you will be thanking me later.” 
That made Daniel chuckle a bit nervously. She was starting to creep him out a bit; time to make a quick exit. 
“Right, well. Maybe I’ll see you at one of our upcoming shows!” Danny politely suggested, already backing out the way he had come in. 
“Of course! Talk to you later!” Greta’s last sentence sent a shiver up Danny’s spine. It felt like a promise rather than a send off. 
With one last quick smile, Danny got his ass out of there and trotted down the booths to get away. He definitely wanted to toss that so-called “love potion” away now. There was no telling what was actually in it. He’d just throw it into the next trash can he saw. 
+++
Daniel did not toss it away. Instead, he forgot about it completely and left it in his jacket pocket. It stayed there for a month, silently waiting for the next time someone would wear that jacket and find it. 
“Hey, Dan!” Danny was in his kitchen taking some ibuprofen for the headache he was fighting when he heard Sam call out for him. 
With a big gulp and a gag he didn’t even try to suppress as he felt the pills catch on the side of his throat, Danny responded with a shout of his own. “Yeah?!” 
“Can I borrow a jacket?! It’s cold as balls out and I don’t have one!” 
Setting his empty glass of water in the sink, Daniel ran a hand through his curls. Sam had stopped over at Danny’s before the band’s scheduled studio time so the two of them could carpool. 
“Yeah!” he shouted back. He went through a mental checklist to make sure he had everything he needed before he left, adding Sam to the bottom of that list. 
“What the fuck is this in your pocket?!” Sam called out again, breaking through Danny’s concentration. 
“I don’t know! I’m not over there!” 
It was quiet again for a moment, Danny quickly going through his checklist again as he passed by his laundry room to grab some socks from the pile. 
“Can I drink it?!” 
Daniel, starting to get a little frustrated by Sam’s antics already, huffed out in exasperation. 
“Go ahead!” he screamed harsher than he had meant to. But, really, how the hell was Daniel meant to know what the fuck Sam was talking about. It probably was a shot of fireball or something he never drank. And if Sam wanted to be tipsy while they recorded… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. 
“It tastes like bubblegum!” Sam excitedly exclaimed, his voice louder as Danny was just around the corner from where he was stationed by the front door. 
“That’s great, buddy,” Daniel dismissed, walking past him briefly as he went to grab his sticks from the living room. Doing the pat down on his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet, Daniel finally rounded the corner to his front door only to see Sam sprawled out on the ground. 
“Sam?” Danny cautiously asked, hoping Sam was just being theatrical over how long Danny was taking to leave. 
But then he didn’t answer. Or move, for that matter. 
“Sammy?!” Daniel was distraught now, tossing his sticks to the side as he kneeled down next to Sam to shake him. 
He still wasn’t stirring, but at least his chest was moving. Daniel frantically searched for a pulse, lifting up his hand to check his wrist. That was when he spotted the nearly empty teardrop shaped vial in Sam’s hand and Danny’s heart sank even further. 
“No no no no-” Danny chanted under his breath, pressing his fingers into Sam’s wrist. His heart rate slowed a bit when he was able to feel Sam’s pulse in his fingertips. He sighed deeply, feeling his shoulders sag in relief. 
“C’mon, Sammy,” Danny implored, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and began to shake him. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to make his head loll around his shoulders. 
When that didn’t work, Danny bit his lip as his brow knit together. He had an idea, but he’d feel awful for going through with it. With another sigh, Daniel resigned himself to it. 
“I’m sorry, Sam,” he murmured, pulling his right hand off the bassist’s shoulder. He reared it back and smacked it smartly against his friend’s cheek. Cringing at how loud the slap resounded in the echo-y chamber of his vestibule, Daniel smoothed his hand back over the pink mark blossoming on Sam’s face. 
It worked, to Danny’s utter relief. 
Sam’s eyes fluttered open as Daniel caressed his fingers across the angry outline of his hand, groaning as he lifted his hand to his forehead. 
“What the hell happened?” Sam grumbled out, sitting up on his own. Danny sat back onto his heels, raking his eyes over Sam to check for any signs of danger. 
“You drank the vial in my jacket and passed out, I guess,” Daniel tried to explain, the concern leaking through his tone. Sam still had yet to look at Danny, his eyes having shut once more as he sat fully upright. 
Huffing out a laugh, Sam looked at the vial in his hand, a drop of that baby pink liquid slipping out of the opening and splattering onto the floor. He turned it over in his fingers a few times before he spoke again. “Hell of a rush.” 
Daniel couldn’t help but snort, his worries easing significantly at the joke. Sam was going to be ok. Maybe a little groggy, but ok. That Greta girl should count herself lucky nothing worse had happened to Sam or else he’d bring down hell around her ears for hurting his best friend. 
“Alright, Sam. Let’s get you up or else we’ll be late for studio time,” Danny grunted out as he hauled Sam up to his feet by his arm. 
“Right, right,” Sam quietly answered, his hair flying out around him as he shook his head to presumably clear it. 
And that was when Sam looked at Danny for the first time since he fell. 
“I’m so fucking in love with you.” 
+++
“Hey, guys, we might want to reschedule.” 
“Yeah? And why is that?” Jake was the first one to look over at Daniel. And when he did, Danny watched as his entire body went rigid as his eyes flew wide open. 
“Something wrong- oh my god.” That was Josh, this time. And just like Jake, Josh’s eyes got comically wide as he took in the sight of Danny and Sam. 
And Daniel really couldn’t blame them. He’d have the same reaction if he saw his little brother clinging onto his best friend as if his life depended on it. 
Sam had long since jumped into Danny’s arms, his arms and legs wrapped around Daniel as if he were a monkey and Daniel his favorite tree. He had refused to get down, Danny having tried to fight him in the parking lot before entering the studio to get him to walk on his own, but Sam was having none of it. Even on the drive over, Sam had tried to climb into Danny’s lap a few times all while gushing about how pretty he thought Danny was. He finally got Sam to stay in his seat after promising to hold his hand as he drove. But as soon as they stepped out of the car, it was no holds barred. 
“What the hell is he doing?” Jake asked, his eyes still locked onto his baby brother’s strange behavior. 
“I’m holding the love of my life!” Sam answered for Daniel. And if Daniel’s face wasn’t burning before, he was certain it was set ablaze by that. And the worst part was Daniel could tell Sam was using a genuine tone. 
He watched the twins look between the two rhythm section members, their lips pursing as they took in the sight. Daniel wanted to hide his face in his hands, but they were currently holding his obnoxious best friend so he couldn’t. 
“Oooooooooo-k. Umm, what the fuck is going on?” Josh had abandoned his station at his microphone, setting the equipment down on a chair to his left before he joined Jake at his side. 
Danny sighed, his eyes closing in shame. He wanted to look everywhere else but at the twins and their calculating and bewildered gazes. 
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Daniel let out a squeak after he spoke, Sam surprising him with kisses he placed on the side of Danny’s neck where his head was nuzzled. He tried to pull away, but Sam just chased after him with his lips. 
“Try us,” Josh answered, his arms crossing over his chest as his hip popped out. Jake was idly fiddling with his guitar, probably not even aware that he was playing at all, but his eyes never left Danny. 
With a deep sigh, Daniel launched into the story of Greta and her stupid fucking love potion. While he was explaining, he knew his story sounded made up. I mean, for god’s sake, the titular character shared the name of their band. It just sounded like he was caught in a lie. The only thing he knew would work in his favor was the potion vial that he had the foresight of bringing with him. 
It was a fight, but Daniel was able to wrangle Sam off of him and set his feet on the floor. However, the man still refused to let go of him completely. So Daniel had to live with Sam resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Danny’s torso. With his hands finally free, Daniel was able to fish that vial out of his pocket and toss it over to the twins. 
Josh caught it, Jake watching it sail over towards his twin with his eyes. Daniel watched as they inspected it, the baby pink liquid still shimmering in the light. He pointedly ignored Sam and his embarrassing antics. Or, at least he tried to. It was very hard when he kept peppering kisses all over Danny’s cheek and neck as he spoke sweet nothings into his ear. Danny felt shivers dance their way across his skin, his veins warming at all the contact and compliments. But he refused to indulge in them. Sam was not himself right now and he would be damned if he was going to take advantage of him. But, they still felt nice. 
After a few seconds of turning over the evil liquid, Josh tossed it back over to Daniel. 
“Alright,” Jake started, pulling the cord out of his guitar, “we believe you.” 
“Really?” Danny was truly bewildered. He thought the twins were going to think it was some kind of stupid prank they were trying to pull on them. He was actually relieved they did. 
“Yeah. We’ve never seen Sam act this way before. Plus he’s a dog shit actor,” Josh answered, a laugh escaping his lips after the last sentence. Danny had to agree; he’d seen the movies Josh had made where Sam was the lead. There weren’t that many. 
“Oh, thank god. Because I need help.” Daniel’s tone was desperate, his hands trying to pull Sam’s off his waist. But every time he tried, Sam would just slide them back into place. He eventually gave up, huffing in resignation as Sam giggled in his ear. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you on this one. I don’t know where we’ll even start,” Jake bluntly pointed out, placing his guitar on its stand. 
“What if you two try to contact the people who organized the fair and see if you can find the woman who sold me the…” God help him, “...the potion.” 
“Yeah, alright. What are you going to do?” Josh was already pulling out his phone, not looking at Danny as he spoke. 
“I’m going to see if maybe she posted that picture and contact her that way,” Daniel explained, having to shove Sam’s hips away from his own in order to get his phone from his back pocket. 
“Sounds like a plan. But how about we don’t do this here,” Jake posited, his eyes sliding over to where their producer and mixer were watching raptly as Sammy placed yet another series of kisses onto Danny. 
They all agreed. They wanted to spare both men as much embarrassment as possible and also minimize the possibility of this leaking and sending the wrong message to their fan base. 
Daniel offered up his house considering it was the closest. 
“And I’ll drive lovebug here, too.” Danny hooked his thumb towards where Sammy’s face was pressed into the side of Danny’s, a dopey smile on his face as he nuzzled deeper into Danny. 
“I don’t think you have a choice,” Josh so helpfully pointed out, trying poorly to suppress a laugh. 
“Yeah, ha ha. Let’s go,” Daniel sharply ordered, trying once more to rip Sam’s arms off of him and failing. 
“No, no, wait. Let us get one video for blackmail,” Jake quickly requested, already having his phone out and pointed at the two. 
Danny, knowing that there was no way they’d relent, groaned and let Jake record his misery. 
“Alright, Sammy. Tell us how you feel about Daniel,” Jake prompted, the laugh in his voice barely contained. The youngest perked up at the question, his smile getting brighter. 
“Well, where do I even begin! There’s so much I feel about him,” Sam cooed, resting his chin against Danny’s shoulder as he spoke. Danny felt Sam’s hair slip off his own shoulder as Sam tilted his head to get a better look at Danny. 
“Why don’t you start with the physical,” Josh, that bastard, piped up. Danny shot him a glare, Josh only responding with an “innocent” smile. 
“Oh! That’s easy! He’s got these beautiful dark eyes that you can easily get lost in. They’re this gorgeous shade of amber brown that have this nice green in them that remind me of moss in the forest. Oh! And when they catch the light just right they’re so bright and I get butterflies. And speaking of butterflies, when he smiles at me I can’t help but feel like I’m going to pass out from how beautifully warm and overwhelming it is-” 
“Alright,” Danny squeaked out, his voice cracking as his face began to heat up, “that’s enough.” 
“No, no, we’re just getting to the good part. Sam, what else about Danny do you like?” Danny bared his teeth at Jake. He knew it was ineffective, what, with his face burning as bright as a stop light. 
“Oh, his arms are really nice. I love it when he picks me up because then I can feel them flexing and it makes me all dizzy.” Sam’s voice was dripping in honey. It was so sweet it made Danny’s stomach ache. 
“Really? And what about his freckles?” 
“One of his best features, definitely. They get all dark and prominent in the summer when he gets more sun. He’s got 137 of them!” 
“Alright that’s-” 
“And what about Danny’s personality?” 
“He’s the sweetest guy ever! I swear, he’s so sweet he gives me cavities. Like this one time, I was feeling really down in the dumps and then Danny went out of his way to get me a case of my favorite beer and made me laugh so hard I nearly pissed myself. He just knows me sooooo well. And also he takes care of Rose the best and he is always so gentle and loving with her… what isn’t there to love?” 
“Ok, show’s over. We’re done here,” Daniel firmly decided, reaching out to yank Jake’s phone away from him and end the recording, holding it out of Jake’s reach as he tried to grab it back from him. 
Danny tossed it back at him when he was done, watching the guitarist nearly fumble the device to the ground. He shot Danny a confused look at his shift in mood, but he didn’t respond. He simply held onto Sam’s arms as he turned the two of them around and made for the door. 
As they walked to the car, Daniel pointedly did not think about the fact that Sam apparently just seemed to know how many freckles Danny had off the top of his head. Or how that made his heart flutter within his chest. 
+++
The car ride back was considerably less dangerous than the drive over; Sam hadn’t tried to climb into Danny’s lap since he preemptively laced their fingers together. However, Sammy hadn’t stopped talking. And it wasn’t his usual babbling, no. It was much worse. 
“I love you.” 
“I know.” 
“I love you.” 
“I know.” The shock of it had worn off at the thirtieth time Sammy had confessed it to Danny, that first time making the drummer jump out of his skin. Now it was just getting annoying, like the beep of a smoke detector. 
“You’re really hot,” Sam giggled, leaning his head across the consul and bumping it into Danny’s shoulder. 
Danny just groaned, throwing his head into the headrest behind him and asking god what he did wrong to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment. It was one thing to toy with his destiny, it was another entirely to play around with his emotions. 
“I hope we fucking crash,” he whined, the light turning green and taking his foot off the brake. 
“I hope we fuck.” 
Daniel felt his foot involuntarily slam down on the gas, forcing the both of them to jerk back in their seats as the engine loudly revved like an animal letting out a warning growl. Danny whipped his head over to Sam briefly, taking in his lashes batting flirtatiously and his wolfish grin. The driver felt his heart pounding in his chest, ripping his eyes away from his distracting passenger and forcing himself to look at the road. 
“What?” he croaked out, not really wanting to hear it again but also wanting to know if he heard Sam right. 
“You heard me,” was all Sam spoke in response, a dangerously flirtatious edge to his words that made Danny’s heart lurch in his chest. 
“Just… Just keep those thoughts to yourself, ok?” 
“Ok!” Sam cheerfully agreed, settling back down onto Danny’s shoulder. That was another thing about this that was driving Daniel slowly insane: Sam did almost everything Danny asked of him. 
He was so, utterly fucked. 
+++
“Ok, so Greta must be a popular name among artists or something because the fair organizer said there were about thirty booths registered under that name,” Jake explained after hanging up the phone. He tapped his pen on the pad of paper he’d been writing on idly, turned towards Danny’s spot on his couch. Sammy had tackled him onto it, curling up right against his chest like an oversized dog and refused to move. 
“Did she give you the list of businesses, too?” Danny asked, having to crane his neck to look over at Jake. 
“Yeah, and I was able to cross off a few of them already,” Jake answered, swiping away at his phone again.
“Nice work,” Danny praised, his eyes darting back to his phone. He and Josh had taken on scrolling through Danny’s instagram mentions in order to try and find the famed Greta. And, Jesus, people really loved tagging him in shit. They had been at it for hours and were still only finding posts from about two weeks ago. 
“Is this her?” Josh hoisted his phone up into Danny’s field of view. Danny squinted as he analyzed the woman’s face. 
“No,” he groaned, his frustration mounting as they had zero luck. 
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sam like this, it was just… It was too much. Yeah, maybe Danny had been dreaming about this exact scenario for years, but this wasn’t how he wanted to get it. He’d felt guilt slam into him with every touch Sam bestowed upon him as he remembered that Sam wasn’t in control of his actions. It was that stupid fucking potion that was making Sam all cuddly and cute; the normal Sam would never do that. The normal Sam wouldn’t repeatedly confess his love for Danny in a myriad of ways, or kiss his neck and cheeks, or cling to him every second of the day. No matter how badly Danny wanted it to be true, Sam just wasn’t in love with Danny like the drummer was in love with the bassist. 
And that was the time that Sam decided to stir just enough to burrow deeper into his embrace with Daniel, grumbling something under his breath that was reminiscent of a cat purring. And just like it never happened, Sam fell back asleep again. Danny watched for a bit too long as Sam’s chest rose and fell with each even breath he took, his face held in a content smile as he dreamed away. 
“Man, I haven’t seen him curled up with someone like that since we were kids,” Josh commented, taking a break from his endless scrolling to crack his neck and stretch. He had watched the whole thing, Sam’s stirring and Daniel’s flush creeping onto his face as he gazed down at the cozy bass player. 
“What do you mean?” Danny had moved his own phone out of the way to properly look at Josh. The man had taken to sitting on the floor with his back against the couch that Sam and Danny were laying on. 
“The last time he looked that content while sleeping was probably when he was about eight-ish; that was when he stopped taking naps with mom,” the singer explained, his eyes cast upwards as if searching the farthest reaches of his mind. 
“What, are you calling me his mother?” Daniel felt his face pinch into one of disgust as he remembered what Sam had sprung on him during the ride over. 
“No, what he’s saying is Sam has always liked to cuddle, but only feels comfortable doing it with certain people,” Jake clarified, not even bothering to look up from his notepad. 
“Yeah, he’s never done that with us. And, now that I think about it, he’s never done that with his girlfriends, either. At least, from what I’ve seen, anyway,” Josh added, rambling just a tad at the end. He even brought his hand up to his chin as he thought, his fingers stroking the hair on it absently. 
Daniel had no idea what to do with that particular bit of information, so he elected to shove it into his mental box labeled “The Sam Incident” to be ignored until further notice. It was starting to become alarmingly full. 
He went back to his scrolling, his eyes beginning to burn with how long he’d been staring at the screen. He wasn’t aware that he’d taken to running his fingers through Sam’s hair and absently playing with it as he focused on finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. 
Right when he was about to take a break and grab something to eat, he spotted her. 
“AHA!” he exclaimed, bolting upright and rudely jolting Sam out of his peaceful slumber. The bassist even grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and shooting a grumpy look at his personal pillow for the violent awakening. Danny felt the sympathy ache in his chest for Sam, rubbing a soothing and apologetic hand over Sam’s arm. Though, with how frizzy and staticky his hair looked, Daniel had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Sam. 
“You found her?” the twins asked simultaneously, Danny feeling briefly like he was in The Shining as they both gave him the same expression as he looked between them. 
Daniel nodded his head, turning his phone around to show the others. Sam took the opportunity to sleepily and unceremoniously flop himself down against the drummer’s chest face first, wrapping his arms around his waist. Danny instinctively placed his hand onto his back to steady him, rubbing it as Sam mumbled something into his chest that Danny could not understand. 
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Jake, ever the impatient one, urged Daniel. He pushed away from the table he was stationed at, making his way over to lean over the back of the couch to watch the drummer’s screen. 
danielrwagner: Hey, so uhhh
danielrwagner: This is going to be a strange question but
danielrwagner: Are you the woman who gave me a vial at an art show a month or so back? 
Daniel had set his phone down onto the couch, figuring he’d have to wait a while for a response - if he ever got one, that is. What he didn’t expect was for his phone to buzz almost immediately afterwards. 
StarshineGreta: Hi Danny!
StarshineGreta: Yes, that was me
StarshineGreta: Why did someone drink it? 
danielrwagner: Yeah
StarshineGreta: Who was it?
Daniel swallowed nervously, glancing down at Sammy who was still wedged into his chest and showing no signs that he was moving anytime soon. 
danielrwagner: …Sam
Call from StarshineGreta 
“Guys, what should I do?” Daniel panicked, his heart rate kicking up in speed inside his chest as his ringtone started to cheerfully chirp in his hand. He frantically looked back and forth between the twins, looking for their help. 
“Answer it!” Josh screeched, his thunderous voice that Daniel normally heard echoing through stadium speakers just as loud and commanding in his living room. 
With a nervous bite of his lip, Danny did as he was told. 
“Hey, Greta. Just so you know, you're on speaker with… with the whole band,” Daniel greeted, making sure to give her the courtesy of knowing that everyone could hear her. But, it seemed that she didn’t even register what he had said. Instead, she launched right into it. 
“Alright, how long ago did he drink it and what are his symptoms?” Her voice was nearly clinical if it weren’t for the clear enthusiasm dripping off her words. 
“He drank it at about ten this morning-” 
“And he’s acting like a lovesick puppy and won’t leave Daniel alone,” Josh interjected, leaning over so that he was closer to the phone to be heard. Though that wasn’t really necessary since the man had shouted, anyway. 
“Yeah, Sam won’t stop touching and cuddling him and if he tells him to quit it he gets all mopey and sad,” Jake added, flashing Danny a grin that Daniel merely glared at. She really didn’t need to know all that. 
The beat of silence that followed made Danny’s nerves spike into the stratosphere. What he didn’t know was that Greta had merely muted her own mic so that she could laugh as boisterously as she wanted to without being heard. 
“Interesting. And how much did he drink?” 
“Pretty much the whole thing. There’s about an eighth or so left in the bottle, I’d guess,” Daniel informed, feeling as if the vial in his pocket got heavier as he thought about it. 
“Wow. Ok, wow. No wonder he’s so clingy,” Greta replied, her surprise seeping into her tone. 
“I wouldn’t call him that-” 
“Dan. Try standing up.” 
Giving Jake a disgruntled look, Daniel tried exactly as suggested. As he did, Sam’s arms tightened around Sam and pulled him back down towards him. “Nooooooooo,” he had whined out in protest, his brow knitting together in a grumpy frown once more as he looked up at Danny through his lashes. 
“No,” he said again, this time more firm and accented by Sam’s grip readjusting around Danny’s ribs to pull himself even tighter against Danny’s chest. 
When Daniel looked over at the younger twin, he was met with a small yet smug smile of victory. 
“Shut up,” he lamely shot back, wanting to cross his arms over his chest but being prevented by a certain bass player. Instead, he just settled his free arm back onto Sam’s back right below where his hair stopped in the middle of his spine. 
“Is it a problem that he drank so much?” Josh asked, completely ignoring the exchange that happened between Jake and Daniel. 
“Not really, no. The effects will just be stronger than if he had just drank the recommended amount,” Greta explained. 
“Will it last longer?” Daniel quickly interjected, the horrifying thought of having to deal with Sam acting like this for a month causing panic to lance through his heart. 
“I don’t think so. Maybe a few extra hours, but it should be worn off by tomorrow evening.” 
“And how come your potion actually works? Like, why isn’t yours bullshit like the other ‘love potions’ out there?” Jake so delicately questioned. 
“Normally, most of mine are but… well…” Daniel did not like how her tone shifted from confident to apprehensive, “I won’t sugar coat it. The potions I make are meant to amplify what emotions are already inside someone. They can’t manufacture love or hate or happiness if they don’t already exist in the person who drank it.” 
After she finished her explanation, the room went silent. Daniel felt as if his mind was beginning to overheat inside his skull as he tried to process the information she had just dropped onto them. 
“I don’t get it,” Daniel croaked out, feeling as if his mind was halting all function as he stared blankly down at his phone. 
“Do you have that potion on you?” Greta’s voice wasn’t scheming, per say, but it was clear she had a plan. 
Daniel dug into his front pocket, fishing out the aforementioned vial. He held it up into the air, looking at it and wondering how something so unassuming could flip his world on its axis. 
Before the drummer could even respond to Greta, Jake had swiped it out of his hand so quickly Danny could only blink dumbly at the man. 
“Josh!” he called before tossing it towards the man. 
“Wait-” was all Daniel could get out before the singer had uncapped the vial and tossed it back like it was a shot. 
“Ooh, bubblegum flavored,” Josh cooed after he swallowed, flipping the vial in his hand after he replaced the cap. 
Daniel just sat frozen in place. Great, now he was going to have to deal with two Kiszkas attached to his hip at all times and he wasn’t going to be able to do anything-
“How ya feeling, Josh?” Jake had asked in a voice reminiscent of a gameshow host from the 70s. 
“Honestly, Jake, I feel no different. Daniel, I love you, man, but not like that,” Josh answered, pointing at his little brother curled up into Danny’s chest like an overgrown cat to prove his point. 
“So, that means…” Jake prompted, holding out his hand as if to cue Daniel to understand. It didn’t work. 
“I still don’t get it. And now I’ll have two of you on top of me-” 
“Oh my god,” Josh impatiently groaned, tossing his head back in frustration as he scrubbed a hand down his face. 
“Jesus, you’re dumb, Dan,” Jake added, exasperation of his own causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. 
“I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually,” Greta optimistically offered, her voice cutting through the groaning from the twins. 
“But, wait, what should I do? Is there anything I can do to help Sam? Or, like, cure him?” Danny inquired, electing to ignore the twins and their antics. 
“You’re just going to have to wait it out,” Greta answered, her voice not even remotely sympathetic to Danny’s plight. 
“Thanks for the insight, Greta.” Jake leaned in towards the phone again, giving it a two fingered salute. 
“Yeah, and thank you for the free blackmail!” Josh was smiling as he waved at the phone, his tone chipper and not at all matching the devious words he spoke. 
“Any time, boys!” 
And with that, the call had ended. 
“Well, we best get going,” Josh sighed as he got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. 
“Yep. Seems like you and Sam need some time to yourselves.” Jake had playfully nudged his baby brother on the shoulder with his hand, Sam only responding with a half-hearted grunt of annoyance at being jostled. 
“Wait, hold on-” 
“Goodbye, lovebirds!” 
With a slam of the door that carried with it a sense of finality, Daniel was left alone with a love-drugged Sam. In his house. Alone. 
“I thought they’d never leave,” Sam yawned, mimicking his older brother from earlier as he stretched his arms above his head, his face pinching together as he did so. Daniel pointedly did not look at the sliver of tan skin the bassist exposed above his waistband as he stretched, a playful teasing of his happy trail poking out briefly. 
“Uh, what?” 
“The twins! I thought they wouldn’t take the hint,” Sam playfully implied, his hands tracing up from their perch on Daniel’s stomach to his pecs. And that was when he realized that Sammy was straddling his hips and looming above him with a look in his eye and a smirk on his lips that was anything but innocent. 
Danny was stuck in his position on the couch, feeling like those butterflies they displayed in glass with those pins that pierced through their wings stabbing through his own limbs. He felt frozen, caught between his own animalistic desire and his morality; the angel and devil on his shoulders waging a war. 
“Are you hungry?” Daniel squeaked out, his voice breaking as he shoved Sam off of him and bolted off the couch. He felt like his face was on fire as the rest of his skin prickled with its own heat. He stood himself on the opposite side of the room, all but pressing his back to the wall. He didn’t care what that witch or the twins said; Sammy would never do that. 
He’s not himself. 
Once Sam recovered from Danny tossing him into the couch, Sam turned those sultry eyes back onto the drummer. “Yeah. For you.” 
Daniel gulped. Sam’s voice had purred out of his lips, matching the very clear bedroom eyes he was shooting Daniel. And Danny was not liking how his body was reacting to that. 
“I’ll order sushi,” Daniel quickly stated before bolting out of the room and away from Sam as fast as he could. 
+++ 
Dinner was an ordeal. Daniel had to essentially manipulate Sammy into eating, which made him feel like garbage. But, he tried to reassure himself by saying it was for Sam’s own good. And if Danny had to use his powers of suggestion over Sam to do it, then it was just a means to an end. To be fair, it wasn’t like he was forcing Sam to do something like make out with Danny or anything like that. It was just getting him to eat his goddamn sushi. 
It also didn’t help that Sam had scooched his chair right up beside Danny’s and would move closer to him each time Danny had tried to move away. And then Sam had tried to feed Danny his food. Which was… an experience. 
“C’moooooooooon Danny! It’ll be cute like Lady and the Tramp!” Sam whined, waving his chopsticks in the air. 
Daniel, knowing his willpower against Sam was weakening, relented. He huffed out a “fine” and half-heartedly opened his mouth. Sam squealed excitedly before gently picking up a roll with his chopsticks and placing it between Danny’s lips. Daniel figured the pain of Sam’s nagging was worth the pleasure of seeing his brilliantly excited smile as Daniel chewed his sushi. 
“Ok, ok, now me!” Sam exclaimed, setting down his chopsticks before opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue like he was about to get his tonsils checked. 
With an exasperated yet fond sigh, Daniel selected a sushi roll and brought it up to Sam, cupping a hand underneath it to catch it if it fell. As he placed the sushi on Sam’s tongue, Daniel made the mistake of looking his friend in the eyes. When he did, his breath hitched inside his throat. Daniel could feel as the air around them crackled with a charged energy that sparked to life as their gazes met. And Daniel felt himself unable to tear his eyes away from Sam as he slowly pulled his chopsticks away.
When Sam slipped the food into his mouth and began to chew, that was when Daniel was able to look away. 
That was a few hours ago. The two of them were once again cuddled up on Danny’s couch, Sam trying his absolute best to get every part of his body touching every part of Daniel’s. They had thrown on a crime procedural show; Bones or Law & Order, Daniel didn’t know. He was far too distracted by how Sam kept attempting to get Danny to kiss him or let him blow him or an assortment of other things that made his face glow bright red. 
He’s not in his right mind, Daniel had to keep reminding himself. And he would not break to love-drugged Sam no matter how many times he would flash Danny those puppy eyes that would normally make him fold like a house of cards under a slight breeze. 
“Daaaaaaaanyyyyyyyyyy,” Sam sang, wiggling himself onto Danny’s lap in order to plant himself right in front of Daniel’s field of view. He would no longer be ignored, despite the fact that Sam had always had Danny’s full attention; he just was acting as though he hadn’t. 
“Sam, I’m trying to watch this,” Daniel weakly protested. He had no idea what the plot of the episode was, much less the actual name of the show. 
“Watch me instead,” Sam whined, his shoulders slouching as he theatrically threw his head back in frustration, “you’ve been ignoring me all day.” 
“That’s not true-” 
“It’s like you don’t love me.” And that was what finally caused Daniel to break his facade. He looked Sam right in the eyes, taking in the pout of his lips and the dejected nature of his eyes. Daniel isn’t ashamed to admit that he felt his chest ache at the sight. There was genuine heartbreak in Sammy’s eyes that did nothing to quell the guilt that had been thrumming through Daniel’s veins all day. 
Sam could not have been further from the truth, really. Daniel did love Sam. Like, embarrassingly so. He felt it swelling in his chest every second that he spent with Sam, even when he wasn’t with him. Actually, that was when he felt it the most, when Sam wasn’t with him. Those were the moments when he found himself wishing for the man to be near, feeling his heart long for his calming and wonderful presence. 
But, he knew Sam didn’t feel that way about Daniel. Danny knew Sam the best out of everyone on earth; he’d be able to tell who Sam was in love with. It wasn’t Daniel. 
“That-That’s not…” Danny didn’t know how to answer that. He really didn’t. He had no idea if Sam would remember anything from this after the potion wore off. He really did not want to risk the most precious thing in his life. 
Instead, Daniel just gently lowered Sam’s head down into the crook of his neck, wrapping his arms around Sam in order to pull him as tightly against his chest as he could. If he couldn’t say it, he’d show it. 
Sam calmed down after that, apparently perfectly content to just exist inside of Danny’s personal space. It wasn’t long after that Daniel felt drowsiness creep up on him. Despite not doing much moving around considering the human ball and chain known as Samuel Kiszka was attached to him all day prevented that, he was still exhausted. Emotionally, that is. Who knew having the love of your life falsely confessing his love for you would be so draining? Danny sure didn’t. 
“Alright,” Danny yawned, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv, “time for bed.” 
“Carry me,” Sam murmured, already half asleep against Danny. 
“Sam…” Daniel protested with a sigh, knowing that he was going to anyway but hoping Sam would change his mind. 
“Please, baby,” the bassist whined, moving his head so that one eye poked out from his curtain of hair to give Danny that wretched Puppy Look. 
Like the whipped man that he was, Danny just sighed as his shoulders sagged in defeat. After shuffling around Sam’s limbs to better fit around Danny as he stood, Daniel walked the two of them up to his bedroom. Danny decidedly did not think about what this would look like to an outsider. 
“When did you get so heavy,” Danny grunted halfway up the stairs. 
“It’s not nice to comment on a lady’s weight,” Sam shot back, his face still completely nuzzled into Danny’s neck. The breath of his words made Daniel have to suppress a shiver. 
“Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady.” 
Sam giggled, the vibrant and gorgeous sound making Danny’s heart soar. 
Jesus, he was so doomed. 
+++
It had taken some master level bargaining on Daniel’s part, but he was able to convince Sam to leave him alone long enough so that they could each finish their nighttime routines. Daniel had just loaned Sam a pair of his sleep shorts and a shirt to use as pajamas; the shorts were just a bit too big on Sam and caused the waistband to sit dangerously low on his hips. Daniel found himself having to force his eyes to focus on anything other than that sliver of skin on Sam’s abdomen, which was an incredibly hard task. 
Daniel was far from surprised when Sam had climbed into the bed next to him and proceeded to wrap all of his limbs around Danny. It was like the man had managed to find the exact places where he would fit perfectly against Danny like he was meant to be there. Frankly, it was driving Daniel mad. 
“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” Sam hummed directly into the drummer’s ear, able to feel the vibrations in his best friend’s chest that was pressed into his side. 
The question made Danny sigh. He knew what would happen if he said no. 
“You’re going to keep going until I snap or give in, won’t you?” Daniel addressed the ceiling, unsure if he was speaking to Sam or god at this point. 
“Yep,” Sam replied, popping the P in the word. Daniel could hear the mischievous smile in his words. 
Now, it was just a matter of weighing Daniel’s conscience against his desire to get some goddamn rest. And, well, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss Sam. But, once again, not like this. But… well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before. It happened a few years ago when they were both drunk; the both of them had laughed it off afterwards, but neither of them spoke of it again. Danny was sure that if he had explained to Sam that he was only doing it to get him to relent so that he could sleep, Sam would understand. Hell, this would be far from the first time Danny had done something Sam had asked of him to get him to shut up so he could sleep. 
“Fine,” Daniel had begrudgingly agreed, the word sighed out. But, before he could tell Sam that he was only going to get a quick peck and nothing else, Sam had pounced. 
Danny’s cries of protest had been drowned out by the press of Sam’s unfairly soft lips, his facial hair not an unpleasant bristle against his skin. But, no matter how good it felt, Danny couldn’t allow this to continue. There was just one small problem: Sam had managed to snake his hands from where they had wrapped around Danny’s torso to his head. He felt those lithe fingers weave their way into his curls, locking him in place like a boa constrictor did with their prey. No matter how… how hot that was, Daniel was the one in his right mind. He was the one responsible for his own action, so that meant he had to… to… oh, dear lord, Sam’s tongue was soft; feeling like the finest velvet money could buy. It beckoned Daniel’s own tongue, gently pleading with it to slip inside Sam’s mouth. And, truly, who was Danny to argue? And, god forgive him, Sam’s mouth was so warm and inviting, it should be a sin. 
Daniel blames his fixation on Sam’s mouth for the reason he failed to notice just how long their kiss had lasted. What finally broke him out of his trance was when Sam’s thigh slipped its way between Daniel’s own, brushing against his interested dick and pulling a surprised yelp from his lips. 
Fighting against Sam’s, admittedly strong, grip on his hair, Daniel pulled away from Sam. He made sure to physically push away Sam’s thigh from its spot between Danny’s legs, knowing that should have been his first act. He was out of breath; another indicator for just how he had failed to be responsible. And looking into Sam’s confused and hurt eyes did nothing to help the guilt mushrooming within his chest. 
“You’ll thank me later,” Daniel explained, even sounding out of breath as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Sam as the love-drugged man would allow. Or you’ll hate me later. 
“But what about here and now?” Sam whined, closing the precious distance Danny had built up. 
“You got what you wanted-” and fucking then some, “-just go to sleep.” 
“Daaaaaaaan-”
“Go to sleep, Sam.” Daniel snapped, immediately regretting his tone as soon as he saw the genuine hurt in those amber eyes. 
With a scowl, Sam settled down into the sheets. What hurt the most, though, was when Sam had retracted all of his limbs from where they intertwined with Daniel’s, flipping on his side to face away from his best friend. Despite having wished for it all day, Danny had no idea it would hurt so fucking much. 
Even though he wanted to so fucking badly, Daniel did not reconcile the situation. It was for the best, he had to tell himself. This way, Daniel would be able to actually sleep and Sam wouldn’t be as weirded out towards Danny when he inevitably snapped out of this spell. 
It was for the best. 
Then why does it feel so wrong? 
+++
Daniel had gotten no sleep. 
Despite how much he tried, it seemed that every time he closed his eyes he was met by the image of Sammy’s disappointed face. He knew, deep down, that it was the right thing for him to do, to push Sam away like that. But that really was a thin comfort when the hurt in Sam’s eyes before he disentangled himself from Danny was still playing on loop in his head. Isn’t that what he had been trying to avoid this whole time? Hurting Sam? And, somehow, he had managed to do just that. It was frustrating and exhausting and Danny just wanted to get some fucking sleep. 
Through the night, however, Sam had managed to intertwine himself once more with Danny. It felt like a hollow victory. And when he eventually, slowly, woke up, Sam had seemed to be completely over their spat from the night prior. 
He had simply stretched his arms over his head, his hair a mess of tangles and static, and asked Daniel about breakfast. How Danny had wished that he could just brush off what happened the night prior. 
The rest of the day had happened much like the day before; Sam refusing to let Danny stray too far from his touch. It had been inconvenient as Danny tried to go about his day with another person attached to him at the hip. However, he was able to adapt by lunch time. Sammy was still whispering things in his ear that made his blood simmer in his veins and did nothing to suppress his guilt at what images and scenarios his brain supplied him with. 
Daniel had resigned himself to the fact that his day now would revolve around Sam entirely. He had wanted to go to the grocery store to restock his fridge that was becoming barren, but he knew there was the possibility that someone would recognize the two of them and their… compromising position. 
So, instead of going out and being productive like he had wanted to, he sequestered the two of them to his house. They settled on a Harry Potter marathon, Daniel once again unable to focus on the screen whatsoever with Sam pawing at him continuously. Daniel had ordered food and plopped the two of them on the couch. 
By the fourth movie, Sam had fallen asleep in Danny’s lap. Daniel, now with those doe eyes off of him, felt that he was finally able to end his guise of watching the screen. It had reached the late afternoon, that golden light sun streaming in through the windows of his living room and highlighting the lazy dust mites floating in the air. Most devastatingly, however, was how that sun had focused on Sammy’s profile. The man looked angelic, ethereal in a way that should not be feasible for a mortal. His hair glowed a golden hue, making it look like a halo was crowned onto his head. It made Danny’s heart ache within his chest. 
Daniel had been so distracted by how gorgeous his best friend looked that he failed to really notice that Sammy was beginning to wake up. 
“Daniel?” Sam’s voice was gravelly again. Danny felt his eyes focus on Sam’s, snapping him back into his own mind. 
“Sam?” 
“Wh… What happened?” Sam had lifted himself off of Danny’s chest, sliding a hand from where it rested on the small of Danny’s back to grab at his head. He blinked rapidly, sweeping his eyes around the room as if it was foreign to him with a grimace on his face. 
“How much do you remember?” 
There was a pause before Sam responded, his eyes sliding their focus in on Danny’s. “Remember? Dan, I’m not missing any time.” 
And if that didn’t make Daniel’s blood run cold. 
“So… So…” Danny couldn’t spit it out. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t say that Sam knew everything. That would make it real. 
“So… what happened?” Sam prompted again, seeming to be more lucid with each passing second. 
Danny involuntarily gulped, feeling a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t that hard to say what happened; he already told the twins. So why the hell was it so difficult to look Sam in the eye. 
“You… You remember that vial from my jacket that you drank?” 
“Mhm, tasted like bubblegum.” 
“...Yeah. Well, that uhh…” 
Oh, for fucks sake! Just say it! 
“It was a love potion,” Daniel rushed out, the words all mushing together to sound like one long word. 
Another beat of silence passed between the two, Sam staring down at Daniel from his perch in his lap and Daniel looking everywhere he could that wasn’t Sam’s eyes. He really wished Sam would move, it would at least help the raging blush on his cheeks. At least slightly. 
“Oh, sick!!” 
Finally, Daniel looked Sam in the eye. Of all the ways he had forecasted that Sam would react to that information, enthusiasm and whimsy was not even on the list. He had expected Sam to get awkward, to politely remove himself from Danny’s touch and make an exit as quickly as possible. He had far from expected Sam to link his hands behind Danny’s neck and eagerly inquire about the potion. 
“Dude, that’s so cool! You know what this means, don’t you??” 
“...No?” 
“Magic is real! And we just proved it!!” Sam’s smile was huge, bright enough to outshine the sun. 
“Sam-” 
“So, like, how does it actually work? Like, I remember that conversation we had with the witch about it only affecting those who already are in love, or whatever, but did she say the actual mechanics of how it worked? Like, is there a special ingredient that it needs to work?” Sam reminded Danny of a puppy in that moment. His eyes were bright and full of enthusiasm, his entire body buzzing with an energy that made it impossible for him to sit still. 
This time, it was Daniel who failed to give a timely response. His mind was too busy reeling over what Sam had glossed over during his rambling to properly process the man’s question. Realizing that the reason Sam was looking at him so expectantly was due to him waiting on the drummer, Danny shook his head to force it to work. 
“H-Hold on,” he began, taking a hand that had rested on Sam’s waist and bringing it up to his forehead, “you… you remember that conversation?? You were asleep!!” 
Danny hadn’t meant for his voice to come out like a screech, however he was just so damn confused that he really couldn’t focus the brain power on proper speech etiquette. 
“What?” Now it was Sam’s turn to knit his brow in confusion. “Oh, yeah! No, I was just faking it. It’s an old trick I pull out sometimes to get out of work; I started doing it so that Jake, Josh, and Ronnie were stuck doing chores instead of me.” 
Daniel felt like he was losing his mind. How was Sam so goddamn chipper about this?? 
“Ok. Ok. Oh my god.” Daniel forced himself to take a breath. It felt as if his entire world was crumbling beneath his feet and his brain was struggling to keep up with the rapidly shifting terrain. 
“So, you remember that whole conversation.” It wasn’t a question, though Danny had intended it to be. 
“Yep!” Danny felt a piece of his soul die at the chipper tone Sam used. He elected to ignore it. 
“And… that means you understand how it actually works…” 
“Apparently better than you did, Danny Boy,” Sam snarked, a playful grin that bordered on flirtatious spreading across his lips. 
Danny could only stare incredulously at Sam. 
“And you’re ok with it??” 
“...Yeah,” Sam answered slowly, “I already knew I was in love with you.” 
And that, right there, was how Daniel Wagner died. In retrospect, he had a good go of it. He was able to follow his dreams, be a rockstar. If he had to pick one, he’d say his one regret in life was ever befriending Samuel fucking Kiszka. It would have saved his life, after all. 
“Danny?” 
Sammy’s voice snapped him out of his cardiac arrest, pulling him back to the present. 
“Y-You… You…” Once again, Daniel felt like his brain was melting out of his head and pouring out of his ears. This can’t be real. Like, it just can’t. “You already… me??” 
“Yeah…” Sammy was looking at him strangely, as if Danny were the one acting weird. 
“You realize what you just told me, right??” 
“I don’t understand why you’re acting so surprised. You already knew this.” 
Danny tried to follow Sam’s logic in his head, he really did. He was still under the spell. He had to be. It was the only way Sam’s behavior made any sense to him. 
“Sam… you were drugged, ok? I don’t know exactly how, but those… your… actions were not your own,” Danny tried to explain, careful and gentle as possible. 
Then, it was as if a lightbulb went off inside Sam’s head. Daniel felt relief hit him; finally Sam got it. They could move past this and save their friendship. 
“Daniel, look at me,” Sammy slid his hands from behind Daniel’s neck to rest them on the sides of his face, positioning it so that Danny had to look at him, “I am not under any spell right now. I am in my sane mind, do you get me?” 
Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him off before he had the ability to protest. 
“I am so fucking in love with you. Like, so fucking in love it’s probably illegal. And that was why the potion worked. Because I am in love with you. If I wasn’t, it wouldn’t have worked at all… do you understand what I am telling you in very clear, not-able-to-be-misinterpreted words?” Sam had said every sentence slowly and with a gravity to it that left no room for debate. They were spoken as fact; as law. Just how energy cannot be created nor destroyed, Sam Kiszka was in love with Daniel Wagner. 
Yet Daniel still had a hard time grasping the concept. 
“But… all that… that cuddling and-and kissing and all that… you’ve never acted that way before,” Daniel reasoned, believing this to be the work of the potion and hard evidence to support that belief. 
Sam just laughed, the noise warming up the ice that had frozen in Danny’s veins. 
“I always wanna kiss you, Daniel. The only reason I hadn’t yet was because I didn’t think you wanted me that way. And before you try and say it was the potion forcing me, it just never occurred to me to not act upon my feelings.” 
Danny was still apprehensive, unable to fully grapple with the concept that Sam wanted to kiss him at all times. But, he was beginning to see what everyone had been telling him the past 24 hours. 
“...Prove it.” 
With nothing but a quick “ok” spoken under his breath, Sam wasted no time launching forward and locking his lips with Danny’s. His hands slid from Danny’s cheeks to the back of his head, manipulating it so that Sam could tip it back and deepen the kiss. Once again, Danny felt dizzy. But, unlike the other kiss the two of them shared last night, this one was quick and urgent. Sam had something to prove and he was not about to let Daniel walk away from this without getting his point through Danny’s thick skull. 
It was Sam who eventually pulled away, having to gasp for air. 
“Holy shit,” Danny panted, his head feeling woozy as he took in the sight of his best friend looking absolutely ruined, yet giddy just from his lips. 
“Yeah,” Sam breathed in response, his smile turning dopey as he laughed. 
“You… You love me…” 
Danny watched in real time the excitement and shock that flooded Sam’s eyes. 
“Oh, thank fucking god,” Sam quickly uttered, throwing his head back, “YOU FINALLY GET IT!” Sam had taken to shaking Danny by the shoulders. 
“That’s actually great news because I’m also in love with you,” Daniel admitted, a giddiness of his own flooding his veins at finally being able to say those words out loud to Sam. 
“I would fucking hope so, you dense idiot.” There was no malice in Sam’s words. Quite the opposite, really. He had leaned back down onto Danny’s chest, burying his face into Danny’s neck as they embraced. 
“Wait… when did you-” 
“Truthfully? When we graduated.”
Daniel started to process what that meant. Since we graduated…
“YOU MEAN WE ACTUALLY COULD’VE FUCKED THIS WHOLE TIME??” 
+++
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Right Person, Wrong Time | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @lovelydivs (sorry it took so long!!)
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: Three times where Tommy and (Y/N) tried to express their feelings for each other only to find out that it was the wrong time, and the one time, the right time, that they did.
Warnings: drinking, smoking, mention of war
Word Count: 3846
A/N: this one was a long time in the making…it’s loosely based off of the song Cleopatra by The Lumineers - I hope you catch the slight references to the song. It’s also the first time I’m writing one of those 3 + 1 typed stories, so hopefully it makes sense. Thanks so much for waiting so paitently. I hope you enjoy! :)
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
———
-1914-
"Oh my goodness, (Y/N)! I can't believe you like him!" Ada Shelby squealed as she leaned forward in her seat, the biggest grin spread across her face.
"Aren't you a little young to be gossiping about stuff like this, Ada?" (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the younger woman.
"I'm old enough," Ada stood her ground, puffing out her chest as she tilted her chin upwards, "besides...you've not denied it," she pointed out then.
Just as (Y/N) was about to open her mouth, a third voice entered the conversation, "denied what?" Both women looked over to the main door of the home to see Tommy standing by it.
"(Y/N)'s got a crush on Andrew...remember him? From school?" Ada blurted right out, not paying any mind to what the person she was spreading gossip about thought about this 'rumor' being spread.
"Oh," Tommy pursed his lips and nodded, unsure of what else to say about the information he'd just been told.
"And I've been telling her that she needs to go and confess her feelings to him, but she's too chicken to do it," the youngest of the three continued, making (Y/N) look at her with her mouth agape.
"You've not told me to do that, Ada!" she accused the other girl of lying, disbelief present on her features.
"I was about to," Ada stood her ground. "What do you think she should do, Tommy, hmm?" she looked at her brother then. (Y/N) held her breath and fixed her eyes on Tommy as well, her heart rate quickening by the second.
Tommy thought about what his sister had said. He couldn't deny the fact that his heart had dropped at the mention of (Y/N) being interested in someone else. He'd always fancied her, but never had the guts to step up and ask her to be his...he was too worried that she only saw him as a friend, and he didn't want to ruin what existed between them. Now she had her eyes on someone else. So he decided that he would concede to that; as her mind was already made up. "I think that you should go and tell him how you feel," he told her, well aware of the fact that he should be taking his own advice and coming clean to her.
(Y/N) took a few moments before she responded, letting the Shelby siblings' advice sink in. Then she slowly nodded her head. "Ok. If you both think that me telling him how I feel would be a good idea, I will do that," she agreed with them, putting on a smile although her stomach was actually doing flips.
No one else knew that (Y/N) actually had similar feelings for Tommy. She was also afraid to speak on them, not only because of the fact that they were friends, but also because there was talk around Small Heath of Tommy having connections with Greta Jurossi. She felt that it was best for her to keep them closed off, and it seemed like she was doing a pretty good job of that.
"Anything else I'm needed for?" Tommy's question brought (Y/N) back from her thoughts.
"Nope," Ada shook her head, popping the 'p' in the word.
"You've only just arrived," (Y/N) pointed out, wondering where he was going off to.
"I know. It seems as though you ladies are already invested in something that my opinion is not needed in," he answered her, making the older of the two women nod in understanding. "I'll see you around," he said, his statement directed towards (Y/N), who only nodded again before hoping that the slight frown she was wearing changed into a smile. It must have, because Tommy exited the house soon after seeing her nod.
"So Andrew..." Ada started off again, continuing on with their chat like nothing had just happened. Well to her nothing had happened. (Y/N) was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she'd basically just told Tommy that she wasn't interested in him.
——
-1919-
Tommy didn't think he'd ever be happy to be back on Watery Lane. But here he was, fresh off of the train from France, wanting nothing more than to walk down the house-lined road to get to the place he called home. The fighting had finally finished, and he, much like many other soldiers who had fought for the majority of the war, was ready to see something familiar again.
He was met with welcoming hugs from Polly, Ada, and Finn just about the second after he walked through his home's front door. As he took in the excited ramblings from his younger siblings, he couldn't help but notice that one person was missing.
"(Y/N) come over at all lately, Pol?" Tommy asked his aunt once the other two had finished what they wanted to share. He could tell instantly that something had changed over the time that he'd been gone just by the shift in his aunt's expression. "Pol?" he asked again after she hadn't said anything.
"She's not been around. There may still be time though," was all she said, her words leaving Tommy more confused now than he was before he asked the question.
"Time? For what?" he asked almost immediately after she'd finished speaking.
"I can't be the one who tells you. Go to her and hear it for yourself," she told him, pressing her lips together in a thin line after she finished speaking. Tommy looked at her for a moment longer before he slowly nodded his head and moved to walk past her towards the door.
It only took him a few minutes before he was standing on the doorstep of (Y/N)'s family's home. He took a moment to compose himself and regain his breathing before he knocked on the door. Thankfully, the very person he was looking for opened the door.
"You're back, Tommy," (Y/N) said with a slight notion of surprise in her voice. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she looked him over. It had been a few months since she'd last seen him, and she almost couldn't believe that he was standing in front of her.
"I am. The war's over," he answered her, taking in her presence as well. It had been some time since he was able to properly see her, but she was still as stunning as the day he left her. "I expected you to be at my house when I came home," he said then, not realizing how pretentious his words may have been until he spoke them. (Y/N) hung her head slightly at the mention of her absence. "Pol told me that I had to come here and hear it from you..." he trailed off, taking a breath as he got ready for the bandaid to be ripped off, "what do I have to hear from you, (Y/N)?"
(Y/N) didn't answer right away, and that made Tommy feel like he was going to implode. "I'm leaving Small Heath, Tommy," after what felt like hours, she finally spoke again, "I'm going to London; for schooling. It's what I want to do...what I feel is next for me in my career, but it'll take me away from here for several months," she explained the reason behind her impending departure to him.
Tommy looked away as he digested the news that he was just given. He couldn't ignore the fact that his heart rate had instantly quickened and that he was now getting that itching sensation just underneath the collar of his shirt. His mind was screaming at him; screaming that he should tell her that this wasn't a good move; screaming that he should admit his feelings to her. But yet he just stood and stared at the brick face of her home.
"I'm sure that this wasn't the news that you wanted to receive the same day you returned..." (Y/N) started, sensing his shift, "and I thought that I'd planned it so that we didn't need to come to grips with saying goodbye, but I guess I..."
"You don't need to explain yourself, (Y/N), I understand," he stopped her when he realized that she was beginning to have trouble articulating her thoughts.
"I need to do this, Tommy," she told him, even though in her mind she was screaming at herself for how she was acting.
"I know you do, and I shouldn't be the one to stop you," Tommy responded, somberness now in his voice. Yes, you should be! his mind was screaming at him, but he didn't have the power left in him to fight. He'd been spent; fighting what felt like non stop for these past few years. He didn't expect that the biggest battle of all would occur after he set foot back in Small Heath.
"I'm happy that you understand," (Y/N) said, a sad smile forming on her face. It was hurting her to do this, but she'd already made up her mind. Going to school was a dream of hers, and she didn't want to push it back now that Tommy had returned home. If it was meant to be, it would be, but now wasn't the time.
——
-1924-
Upon arriving back in Small Heath, (Y/N) decided that she'd go to the one place she knew would welcome her back. It only took her a few minutes to walk to the Garrison, and what was awaiting her made her eyes widen slightly. Things had certainly changed since she'd been there last.
"Things have changed around here,” (Y/N) voiced her thoughts as she walked through the pub's doors, “have you switched around the business hours too?" she then questioned the only man in the room.
Tommy quickly spun around at the sound of her voice. At first he thought that it was just a figment of his imagination, but lo and behold, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was there, standing several feet away from him. "No," he answered once his initial shock had faded, "they've been switched around for an occasion."
"An occasion?" (Y/N) was intrigued, her eyebrows raised slightly as she moved over to the bar's counter.
"My marriage," he came right out and said it, dropping the news like he was ripping off a bandaid.
(Y/N)'s expression didn't change upon hearing this news. If anything, it got more pronounced. "You're married?" she asked him, her surprise also evident in her tone.
"I am," he kept the response brief, clearing his throat as he focused himself on pouring a glass of, what he hoped still was, her usual. He then set it on the bar, pushing it closer to where she was standing.
"Congratulations," she told him, swallowing her pride as she tried not to make her disappointment obvious, "she's a very lucky woman," she added, a tight-lipped smile on her face.
Instead of furthering that conversation, he started a new one. "You've decided to come back," he stated the obvious.
"I have," now it was her turn to her brief.
"London treated you well?"
"It has," she answered with a nod, watching as he went about lighting a cigarette. She waited until he took the first drag from it to continue, "I was offered a position at the school I went to shortly after I graduated from the program. They wanted me to teach the classes that I'd just finished taking because they said they saw potential in me," she then gave him some insight into her time spent in the big city.
Tommy raised his eyebrows as he nodded along with what she was saying, impressed by what success she'd had in the years since he'd seen her last. "I tried looking for you, you know..." he trailed off then, tapping the excess ash into the tray on the counter then, "I've expanded my business to London, and I thought I might come across you while I was there."
"I spent most of my time at the college," (Y/N) answered him, not ignoring the pang that she felt in her heart upon hearing what he had to share with her.
Tommy took a long drag and exhaled the smoke slowly. "I'm happy you're back, (Y/N)," he told her, his emotions behind the words unclear.
"I'm happy too," she agreed with him even though she couldn't fully get behind that statement.
She didn't know what she was thinking. Tommy wasn't required to save himself for her; especially after she was the one who decided that she was going to move away from the place they both grew up in. But yet she couldn't quell the nagging feeling inside of her. The feeling telling her that she'd messed up and now wouldn't be able to find happiness, because her happiness had already put a ring on another woman's finger.
——
-1926-
Tommy didn't know what to do now. After months of spending his days walking on eggshells and always looking over his shoulder, the vendetta he and his family had been locked in was finished. He was back at Arrow House now; alone, save for Charlie. His family had suggested that he take some time off of business. Polly spearheaded the idea, so Tommy really couldn't argue it. He'd been so tightly wound up for these past few months that he didn't know if he had it in him to fight her on it. So now he was sequestered; left to his own intentions. And they weren't good.
After a few weeks of wallowing in self-pity and drinking bottle upon bottle of liquor, he finally sat himself down at his desk with the intention of doing something other than opening the door wider for his demons to enter. But as he sat and looked at the few papers that were scattered about his desk, he found that he didn't have the desire to actually do any of it. The mental capacity just wasn't there. And so he stared. He stared straight ahead at the door of the room for who knows how long. His trance was only broken when his head maid entered the room.
"What is it, Frances?" he asked, finally snapping out of the daze he'd been locked in.
"It's nearing dinner. Should I set a plate out?" she asked him a question of her own.
"Sure," he answered dismissively, hoping that that was all she wanted from him. To his luck, Frances nodded her head and turned to exit the room once she received her answer. That left him alone again, and instead of staring off once more, he decided to busy himself with lighting a cigarette.
As he took the first drag, he let himself sink back into the chair and exhale a long, slow breath. Smoking always seemed to have the power to center and ground him, and he learned rather quickly that he could count on the nicotine to save him when nothing else could. That's why he always had them on him. He closed his eyes as he began to fiddle with the lighter that was still in his hands.
Amidst the silence, one person came to mind: (Y/N). It'd been two years since he'd last saw her but now she was in the forefront of his mind. He took another drag from the cigarette between his fingers before setting it in the ashtray and grabbing the phone from the corner of the desk.
After getting connected to her line with the help of the woman at the exchange, Tommy listened to the dial tone as it rang out. The call picked up after the third, pain-stakingly long ring.
"Hello?" Her voice just about took Tommy's breath away. He opened his mouth and shut it, deciding that what he was originally going to start off with wasn't acceptable. "Hello?" she asked again, wondering if the other side of the line was dead.
"(Y/N)..." he trailed off after saying her name, still unsure of what to say. Why was he even calling her?
"Tommy?" she responded in a similar manner, only her utterance of his name was spoken as a question. "Has something happened?" she asked him, wondering what the reason behind his call was.
"No, nothing's happened," he answered.
"Then why the call?" she outright asked him.
"I...I wanted to see you," he was finally able to find the words, "could you come to Arrow House?"
(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh slightly at his request. "I don't know where that is, Tommy," she told him, her decision on whether to meet him or not left unclear.
"I'll send someone to your home. They'll bring you here," he gave a solution to the roadblock.
There was a pause on the other side of the line, and it made Tommy hold his breath. He was so close, so close to seeing her again. All she had to do was say 'yes'. After what felt like minutes, but in reality was only a few seconds, (Y/N) gave her answer: "when will they pick me up?"
"You'll come?" he asked, his mood now perked up as he sat straight in the chair.
"Yes, I'll come," she answered, her decision more definitive now.
"I'll have someone come to your home for you shortly," he told her, unable to stop the smile from forming on his face. He was just a short time away from finally seeing (Y/N) in person again.
"Ok. I'll see you shortly," there was a smile present in (Y/N)'s voice too, which made Tommy all the more excited to see her.
The call ended there, and it left Tommy with time to prepare for her arrival. He just couldn't believe that he was going to see her again.
(Y/N) marveled at the expansive estate as she rode up its driveway. She never could have imagined Tommy living in such a dwelling, but she was immensely proud of what he'd become. The car stopped at the front doors, and her door was opened before she could even think about reaching for the handle. She then walked up the steps and through the large, wooden door that had been opened by an older woman.
"Mr. Shelby's in the front room," the woman informed (Y/N), who nodded before looking around. A few moments passed before the woman spoke again, "it's that way, ma'am," she pointed out, motioning to the archway on the left wall. (Y/N) nodded again, this time with a grateful smile as she then made her way through the archway into the front room.
It was grand, and she looked around before her eyes fell onto the man who was standing in front of the window with his back facing her. "Tommy," she called out to him, her voice softer than she would have liked.
But it did the job and got him to turn around and look at her, "(Y/N)," he started off, stepping away from the window and closer to her, "it's good to see you again."
"You as well," she said with a small smile, the pace of her heartbeat quickening with each step he took to come closer to her.
Tommy stopped when he was only a couple steps away from her, and he took a moment to admire her before he spoke again, "I didn't think you'd actually come," he admitted, unable to stop the smile from forming on his face.
"No?" (Y/N)'s eyebrows raised in surprise as she heard what he had to say.
"No," he affirmed with a shake of his head, "I thought it'd be too good to be true…you being willing to see me after all of this time."
"I'd always be willing to see you, Tommy," she told him, her words filled with a sincerity that made Tommy's smile widen. "What's got you smiling like this?" she couldn't help but question him on his facial expression. A smile from Tommy Shelby was a rare sight, (Y/N) knew that better than anyone.
"Do you have someone, (Y/N)?" he didn't answer her question, but instead asked one of his own.
She furrowed her eyebrows at the sudden ask, wondering where it came from. "I don't," she answered him, her confusion shining through in her words now, "why do you ask?"
"I wanted to know before I said anything else."
Now (Y/N) was really confused. "What are you getting at here, Tommy?"
"It's always been the wrong time between us to do something like this, but now that this time seems different, I'm not going to wait any longer," he paused for a beat, clearing his throat before he continued, "you've always been the right person for me, (Y/N), ever since we were kids; before the war. You were the person for me, but it was never the time for us...not until now," he ended his admission with a slight nod as he stepped even closer to her. (Y/N) didn't shy away from his proximity, and in fact, the slightest smile formed on her face as she welcomed it. "I was late for those times and late to figure out what was going on; late for the love of my life, but I won't let this be another wrong time between us. I want to be on time now, (Y/N), and I want you to be mine," he spoke from the heart, his eyes not straying from hers.
"Tommy..." (Y/N) started after she'd gathered her thoughts, "Tommy, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for something like this to happen," she admitted as her smile grew wider. "I will be yours," she told him then, watching as all of the tension fled his features at the moment she gave her decision.
Without saying another word, Tommy stepped forward and took her into his arms. (Y/N) responded by setting her hands on his chest, her fingers wrapping around the lapels of his jacket. "Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?" he asked, his lips brushing against hers due to their closeness.
"I thought you'd never ask," she responded with a breathless laugh. She kept her eyes open just long enough to see Tommy crack a grin at her words before he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, hooking her into a passionate kiss.
It instantly felt like she'd been swept away and taken to some unheard of land where she knew everything would be ok. And when Tommy pulled away to rest his forehead against hers, she opened her eyes to see that that 'unheard of land' was actually her real life, and that all she needed to do to go there was to feel Tommy's lips on hers. So she did the only thing she could think of and let him kiss her again.
———
Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety
MASTERLIST
Listen to the song Cleopatra by The Lumineers…
HERE.
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usertimothee · 1 year
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Hey, I haven’t read Little Women or any of the books related, the only adaptation I have seen is Greta Gerwig’s and I’ve recently rewatched it. And I have some thoughts are mostly ramblings and need to express to someone so I hope you don’t mind me popping in here. I don’t really know where people got that Jo was In love with Laurie? She loved him as a friend but romantically? I never got that really. And how I took that scene with Jo and Marmee was Jo admitting she was lonely and if Laurie asked her to marry him again she would say yes. That’s kinda unfair to herself and him when you think about it, marrying someone just because you’re lonely? Not because you are truly in love with him? How would you both be happy together? I’ve seen some discussion around them and I don’t really like people putting in the tropes “oh lovers who went wrong or right person wrong time” to Jo and Laurie. Because they weren’t lovers, they were friends. And I don’t understand where people get Jo being the “right” person for Laurie. I wish we could have gotten more of Jo and Friedrich. They were cute I think. And I wish we could have gotten more with Amy and Laurie. I think this summer I’m gonna find the books and read them. Anyways, there’s my thoughts and hope you are having a good day.❤️
hi anon! never be afraid to come into my inbox and ramble about little women bc talking about it is literally my fav thing.
especially when ur thoughts are so spot on, and i'm honestly so surprised and pleased u got this from greta's version. bc a lot of people think she made laurie and jo be that "right person wrong time" couple when they're not like that at all, in any adaptation, even greta's.
ur totally right, jo never loved laurie romantically. like, ever. and it's made obvious multiple times. ("i can't love you as you want me to...it would be a lie to say i do when i don't," in the proposal scene.) and it's especially made clear in the attic scene, with jo admitting she's just so lonely. but if you can't get it from: marmee: do you love [laurie]? jo: if he asked me again, i think i would say yes. do you think he'll ask me again? marmee: but do you love him? jo: i care more to be loved. i want to be loved. marmee: that is not the same as loving. jo: i know. like ur honestly dumb i'm sorry? or don't know how to read media at all. or ur just being willingly obtuse idk.
and i would go even further. i firmly believe that laurie never loved jo that way, either. that boy was lonely before he met the march family. maybe even lonelier than jo was after beth died. he was an orphan, lived with his tutor and his grandfather (who was kind of cold to laurie before he met the marches, as well.) he had no friends. jo was the first girl he loved at all, in any way. of course he thought he was in love with jo. he didn't know any other love except the love had for her. and laurie was a romantic, as well. of course he thought the two of them were meant to be.
but they weren't, ever, and that's made so clear from their conversation in the attic. laurie: jo, i have always loved you, but the love i feel for amy, it's different. and i think you were right about this, i think we would've killed each other...i think it was meant this way. like...do jolauries think laurie is lying to jo? what reason would he have to do that? it doesn't make any sense.
and jo looks so stunned (this is admittedly clearer in the book than it is in greta's version) because it's amy. not because she's jealous, or expected laurie to still love her, but because her best friend just came home married to her little sister. that would stun anyone. and she looks sad, again, because she's so lonely, and she basically looks at the rest of her family coupled up and in love (amy and laurie, meg and john, marmee and her father) and she aches, because she doesn't have that.
i really think greta's only mistake was including that stupid letter to laurie. it didn't make sense and wasn't true to jo's character at all.
and finally, once again, laurie doesn't love jo like that. not back then, and certainly not now. i mean, the journey from "i think you will marry, jo. i think you'll find someone, and love them, and live and die from them, because that's your way. and i'll watch," to "i never thought i'd prepare a carriage to help jo march chase a man, but i like it!" he's delighted in that scene, just like everyone else. bc the jo he saw with friedrich was so different that the jo that was around him. he can tell the difference because he knows the difference now, because that boy is so desperately in love with amy it's not funny.
and that's another thing jolauries disregard: laurie's love for amy. because he does love her. and amy loves him, and understands him in a way that jo never did. and laurie wants to be better for amy. because, let's face it, that boy was a mess when amy found him in europe. (and this is one other thing the movie leaves out: laurie realizes in the book that jo was right shortly after he leaves concord - the two of them would've never worked. and by the time he meets up with amy again, he isn't still mourning his relationship with jo, he's just insurmountably lonely again, just like he was before, and he doesn't see an end to it.) he heals bc he falls in love with amy. he wants to be worthy of her, because he admires her and respects her. there's a great first draft of the script which is floating around on the internet which includes this letter from laurie to amy: Dear Amy, I have gone to make something of myself, so you might not be ashamed to call me your friend. like...he just got his heart broken by her. but he doesn't get angry at her, like he got angry at jo, because he loves amy. and he wants to be around her and is desperate to have her in his life, even if it's just as a friend.
and, just to give more evidence that amy is the first and only person he's in love with (and because i just love it a lot), here's the original draft of their kiss scene: laurie: i love you. amy, i love you. amy: you do? laurie: more than anything or anyone in this world. you are first in everything. you do not have to accept me, but i love you, amy march. [amy cries even harder. he kisses her.] amy: i love you, laurie laurie: i love you, amy march. laurie literally has gently but ardently resigned himself to loving amy even if she doesn't love him back, which is such a change from when jo rejected him.
and ur totally right, jo and friedrich are so cute together (even though louis garrel is unfortunately an asshole). and more importantly, friedrich understands jo in a way laurie never did, and lover her for who she is instead of who he wants her to be. and come on, when friedrich says, "my hands are empty," and jo takes his hands in hers and says, "they're not empty," and then he kisses her in the rain. like that is peak romance idk what anyone says.
anyways. tl;dr jo never loved laurie, laurie never loved jo, laurie is in love with amy, jo is in love with friedrich.
anon, feel free to come into my inbox anytime! and let me know how u like the book! i think if u have these opinions, u will like it a lot :)
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River
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Word Count: 1.6k
Pairing: Jake x Reader
Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake
Synopsis: Jake hasn’t healed even months after his ex-girlfriend Y/N said ‘I do’ to another man. After one night of desperately trying to hold onto Y/N, will he get back the woman he loves, or was it all nothing but a mistake?
For a bit of context while I try and write what came before: Y/N is a super successful singer-songwriter although it’s not super relevant in this chapter. She has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet, for several years. She had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended not very well (you’ll see), although they eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake.
Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.
Previous Track: Prayer Factory
Chapter soundtrack : River – Joni Mitchell
Oh, I wish I had a river, I could skate away on. I wish I had a river so long, I would teach my feet to fly.
Alright let’s get into this,
Christmas music was playing softly in the warmth of the Styles household. The young couple had decided to host a Holiday party together for their close friends in their newly purchased London home. Kids were running around everywhere, stuffing their face with appetizers, while grown-ups were enjoying more than a few glasses of wine around the crackling fireplace, or in the sitting room.
Harry, however, was busy looking around for his wife with a frown on his face. He had barely seen her since the arrival of the first few guests.
“Hey, Gemma, do you know where my beautiful wife might be?” he asked his sister.
“I’m not sure, although she did tell me she was going to the loo about half an hour ago.”
Indeed, the hostess was still in the master bathroom upstairs. Far from the picture of holiday spirit, she was sitting on the tiled floor, with her arms wrapped around her knees, surrounded by a pile of tissues and mascara running wildly down her cheeks.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” she whispered, for what felt like the hundredth time, as she heard footsteps heading in her direction. She took some more toilet paper to blow her nose, jumping slightly as she heard a soft knock on the door.
“Y/N, come out, love, everyone’s here,” she heard her husband say.
She got up, flinching as she looked at her reflection. God, she really looked like shit, “Um, you should go back down, I'll be right behind you, I’m just touching up my makeup”, she said, hoping Harry wouldn’t be able to notice the shakiness of her voice.
“Are you okay?” he asked, clearly worried.
“Of course, I am” she answered. She was relieved to hear him walk back downstairs.
Of course, I am, she thought. Was she really, though? Definitely not. She quickly put all her mess into the tiny bin, before starting to work on her hair and face. Just get through tonight, she thought, just tonight.
“Ah, there she is!” everyone cheered upon seeing her walk down the split staircase, her silky dress flowing beautifully behind her and her makeup opaque enough to hide any previous meltdown.
“Sorry I kept you waiting. You know I love making an entrance,” she giggled, trying to hide her nervousness behind a sparkly smile. No one seemed to notice anything wrong as she went around the room, greeting everyone one by one, cracking a quick joke here and there.
Most of the guests were Harry’s friends and colleagues, but Y/N didn’t mind that much, she understood London wasn’t exactly an ideal location for most of her friends. Plus, she had gotten rather close to her husband’s inner circle. It didn’t quite feel like family just yet, but it would come, or at least that’s what she hoped.
“You look a bit pale sweetheart,” Harry’s agent told her laughing, “here, have a drink it’ll loosen you right up”.
Y/N hesitantly took the champagne flute he was holding out to her, mumbling a quick ‘thank you’ and excusing herself before heading to the empty reading room. She let out a sigh of relief as she heard the door close behind her, shutting any noise out.
She loved that room; it was always so quiet and cozy. The walls were covered in her favorite books, and the grand piano was almost buried under a mountain of sheet music and song drafts, both hers and Harry’s. The back wall, however, was very neatly organized. It was where they had decided to place their award shelves.
Without even realizing, she approached one award in particular. It was her second Grammy, which she’d gotten a few years prior. Next to it was a picture taken at the ceremony’s after party. She grabbed it gently, a sad smile spreading her face. It was of her with Josh, Danny and Jake. Sam had taken it while in his disposable camera phase.
She brushed her thumb across Jake’s face, her throat drying up, before shifting her attention back on the glass in her hand. She contemplated the idea of downing it in one swift movement. God knew she needed a drink. But she wasn’t sure it would be wise.
Screw it.
She weakly brought the glass up to her lips but was interrupted as she heard the door open and footsteps approaching from behind her.
“You look beautiful,” Harry whispered in her ear. He laid a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder and wrapped one arm around her waist, his hand landing on her belly. She stiffened at the sensation. “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine worry on his delicate features.
“Yeah, I’m good, don’t worry,” she answered, smiling, setting the frame back onto the shelf. And delicately putting the glass down.
But her husband wasn’t fooled, he could feel that something was going on. Truth was, something had been going on for a while. Y/N had been distant, and quiet, very different from the sunny and bubbly girl he’d married just a year prior. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her to open up to him. He was worried his job had started taking a toll on their marriage, since YN’s strange behavior had started when he’d come back from a press tour to promote his new album. Then again, Harry knew she had herself been working on some projects and even spent a couple days with her friends in Barcelona while he was away, so she’d always kept busy.
“Are you sure?” he insisted.
“Just tired,” she hummed, absent-mindedly, “who would’ve thought hosting Christmas would be so stressful?”
But Harry wasn’t satisfied with his wife’s answer “Y/N, you look-”
She gently slid out of his arms and walked towards the arched window; it was pouring outside. “I told you I’m fin-”, but they were both cut off by a strong voice coming from the foyer.
“Alright everyone, picture time!”
The reading room was suddenly silent for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to argue, neither of them knowing what to do or say. Y/N was the first to move, setting her glass down on the windowsill and walking past him and towards the exit.
“Y/N-” he sighed, his eyes never leaving her figure.
“You heard them,” she answered, smiling sadly back at him, “it’s picture time.” She quickly vanished behind the mahogany doors.
Harry was left alone in the study, with nothing to listen to but his own thoughts. He couldn’t understand what had been going on. Out of curiosity, he glanced at what Y/N was holding when he’d walked in. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he took in the picture frame.
Of course, he thought. She’d told him all about how she’d been spending the Holiday season in Michigan for the past few years. It must’ve felt weird celebrating Christmas without her boys for the first time in so long. Harry felt a lump settle in his throat. He’d taken her away from her family. Of course, he’d hoped he would’ve had become her family by then, but he knew Y/N and the Greta boys had a special bond that was hard for outsiders to understand. They were the family she’d chosen. And she was the only person that they had ever truly let in.
Without thinking, Harry took his phone out of his pocket and dialed his assistant’s number, “Hey, yeah, I know, I’m sorry, I just need you to do something very quickly for me.”
Harry walked quickly to the foyer, finding everyone standing around the staircase, facing the photographer. He walked to the middle of the crowd and next to Y/N, who still looked as absent as ever. But this time he chose to lay a soft kiss on her temple. “It’s okay, I’m sorry, I love you darlin’,” he said softly against her hair.
Except it most definitely was not okay, he did not have to be sorry, and should not have loved her. Y/N felt tears filling her eyes as the guilt once again ate at her. She discreetly wiped a stray tear. There wasn’t anything she could do now, was there?
“Everybody, say cheese!”
She turned around to face the photographer, H/N’s hand wrapping around her waist, a wide smile spreading across both of their faces.
“Cheeeeese!” everybody yelled.
To say Y/N was exhausted would’ve been an understatement. The party had ended being a lot of fun for everybody, perhaps a tad too much fun, as the last guest had left in a cab long after 3AM.
She yawned as she took off her jewelry and heels, before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Y/N heard her husband’s soft snores coming from the bedroom and couldn’t help but smile a little as she remembered his sister had spent the night warning him against the spiked eggnog. He clearly had taken her advice lightly and had ended up getting completely hammered.
She started taking her makeup off, lazily throwing her used wipes in the bin. She froze for a second. The girl wasn’t tired enough to have forgotten the reason why she’d been sobbing on the floor just 6 hours earlier.
She slowly shut the bathroom door, flinching when the lock clicked loudly. She got down on her knees and started rummaging through the trash, only to let out a painful sigh when she noticed her worst nightmare hadn’t disappeared. Yep. The tests were still in there. All three of them, mocking her with their baby blue lines.
Positive.
Hope you liked it! Once again, don't hesitate to send me whatever or leave comments I’m always happy to get feedback xxx
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septembercfawkes · 9 months
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(No spoilers) So I wasn’t going to share my thoughts on Barbie, but if you haven’t noticed, it’s really hard for people to NOT share their thoughts on Barbie! It’s like Disney’s Enchanted had a baby with a Will Ferrel movie, but bizarrely thought-provoking. So if you don’t like those films, you will *not* like this one!
But that’s what I went in hoping it was, and for me, it delivered. As my friend said, I smiled through 99% of the thing, and the other 1% was spent trying not to cry.
It’s not perfect—I feel the climax should have been rewritten to prove the themes and complete the characters arcs. Those almost always reach their conclusions during or before that point. Without that, essentially *all* of them had to be completed in the falling action, which made it feel disproportionately long, but honestly, it was all entertaining, so I didn’t care.
It was clear everyone working on this film had a blast—the costume details, sets, and musical numbers were 💯. I wanted to see this since I saw the main trailer, but almost skipped it with all the negative attention it was getting. So glad I didn’t and I went and made up my own mind.
I had heard the film was anti-man, it’s not. You need to understand the framework of the story. Ken is certainly underdeveloped BUT THAT’S THE POINT. In the history of Mattel, Barbie has been everything—president, doctor, athlete, construction worker. She has a dreamhouse, car, bike, pool. Mattel has literally given Ken *nothing*, not even a real vocation! As a result, Barbieland is a complete matriarchy, and whether you live in a full-on matriarchy or patriarchy the opposite sex is left stagnant, underdeveloped, and incapable of reaching individuation. And that was kinda the point.
Like most Hollywood films, I would say it leaned left, yet the film both gave voice to and poked fun at multiple perspectives, without oversimplifying them. Some have said that a sign of good quality art, is that it lends itself to multiple interpretations, each of which can be backed up with supporting evidence. I think it was intended that this film have multiple, justified interpretations. And I think that’s one of the reasons there is so much buzz and even debate—people can watch the SAME scenes and draw different conclusions. I’ve seen comments that Greta Gerwig “accidentally” argued X or Y—I don’t think it was an accident at all. I think she completely intended there be multiple ways to interpret things.
**—-spoilers—-** ⚠️
I super wanted to talk about Barbie’s character arc, and one of the main themes of the story. I love how the first thing that goes wrong with Barbie, is that she starts having thoughts of death, when death is impossible in Barbieland. She doesn’t want to go to the real world, but does with the intention of returning back to her perfect life and perfect, though albeit child-like, state-of-being. She lives in a perfect world that never changes. She goes to the real world, and it’s complicated. She’s not loved by everyone. She has to experience negative emotions. She witnesses complicated relationships and states of being. And what’s terrifying, is that there is always change.
Flash forward to the end. Barbie is visited by the spirit of Ruth, her creator. Ruth explains as a creator why she made Barbie, and also points out how humans all have the same ending: death. But the creations, the ideas and concepts—like Barbie—they get to go on living. And Barbies realizes she would rather cry, would rather go through the turmoil of real life, would rather experience the terror of change, and would rather die, to become a creator and have meaningful real-life relationships. She doesn’t think about a dream house. She doesn’t think about a dream job. She doesn’t think about awards. In her mind, she sees human relationships—friends, family, and mothers and daughters.
The closing scene is of her going to see a gynecologist. Yes, it’s a joke in the sense that Barbies don’t have privates, but I feel like it can be interpreted another way to have a deeper meaning, connecting right back into relationships and creation. I think it’s a great closing scene to book end the prologue opening. One could argue, we’ve come full circle.
Honestly, I’ve thought about it a lot, and to me it has really resonated with the story of Eve and the Garden of Eden (Latter-day Saint interpretation). Some things are worth the cost of death. Even if that means no longer living in a paradise and having to deal with really hard ups and downs and complicated emotions. This is one of the big reasons I loved Barbie.
But again, as I said, I think there is room for plenty of different interpretations. 😊
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legendofmorons · 1 year
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How to fall in love twice (Time, Malon) -Part 4
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Pairing : Malon x Reader x Time
Rating: T
Summary: As you and Malon have some bonding time in Kara Kara inn Time gets pissy with the boys.
Warnings: Implied/ referenced child abuse, referenced alcoholism - (Reader had a drunk father that sucked until he was forced to get better or stay gone)
Other: if I missed anything, please let me know.
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You spend the two weeks a version of Wild's hyrule. The land is beautiful but the problem say it's only been twenty years since the calamity.
During this, you and Malon spend time talking and doing upkeep for an adventure. You gather rupees for odd jobs and stocking on supplies. With several faries and lots of weapons, you settle for basic food supplies. You leave an adventuring tag for the boys on the off chance they come across it
At the moment, you and Malon are settled inside the in of Kara Kara Buzzar, the busseling groups outside loud.
Inside is a haven of perfect temperature ir, maintained by enchanted sapphires.
"I hope the boys are doing okay." Malon says as she inspects her bow, eyes nothing but calculating.
"Mh, they're fine... By now, they're figured out that we're not coming back and that we got the mask."
"I know. I'm just worried. "
"Can I help?"
"No... It's just weird. I'm not usually the one on an adventure. "
You nod, not quite understanding the sentiment but understanding being on an adventure you weren't expecting or really even supposed to be on.
She looks at you fully, her soft smile a little bitter in the afternoon light. "I'm just glad that it's you that I'm with and not someone else."
"Oh- thanks. I'm glad it's you here too." Yoy say, trying not to come off as the giant smitten crush haver you are.
"You're sweet. It's really no wonder Link likes you so much."
"Oh, yeah... I try."
Malon just laughs, warm and amused. "You're a good person, and I've heard you're a Greta friend."
"That means a lot. Thank you."
She just smiles, pulling her bag onto the bed so she can double-check her arrow supply.
If she's honest- she likes you too. A lot. More than a friend even if it is a fresh crush.
You're funny, kind, and very attractive. She likes how you try to help people and protect those who need it. You're good people.
You turn to the window, watching the sands roll by as chatter sounds around you. The tourists outside are all dressed in linens and silks, seeking refuge from the sun as they browse the stalls.
You can hear Time worrying, even if you aren't actually there. You've seen it enough times, overheard his muttering, he thought no one could hear. You just hope he and the others are okay.
(You can see the pacing and the glaring as he mutters about where you and his wife might possibly be. The way he gets snappy with everyone's. How he takes as many watch shifts as he physically can before royally crashing. Only to repeat the whole process.)
"Hey, (Y/n)?" Malon calls.
"Yeah?"
"What was it like for you growing up?"
You turn to face her, her curiosity evident. And usually you don't just tell people about your past but most people don't ask. To be fair.
"Well... I mean, mom was born on a ranch and grew up there with her siblings. Dad was a royal guard from a long line of them.
"I grew up in castle town, I have three siblings though. And we spent every summer at Mamaw and Papaw's ranch. I did good in school but I struggled to keep up.
"It was okay, dad wasn't home a whole lot... Drank when he was, but he just got loud and angry."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's fine. The one time he hit us, mom nearly killed him." You give a shrug, "After that, he left for a year and came back better. I still don't talk to him much these days. But I don't feel like he's a danger anymore either."
"He hit you?" Malon asks, furry already filling her. How dare anyone ever mistreated children - how dare anyone mistreated you.
Oh, she'd like to kick your father's ass. That would be fun.
She can only imagine that Time would be on board.
"Once. Never again." You shrug, unphased because honestly you've faced worse on this quest with the boys.
"That's a real low thing."
"It's cool, I can kick his ass now. After learning to hold my own against the boys, I think I could take on Gannon myself." You crack a smile, hoping to distract her with a joke.
"I'm sure you could."
"Maybe that's why we got pulled away, to destroy gannon?" You snort at just the thought.
Gannon is so fucked is you or Malon meet him, but both of you- well he'd be done for. You both have a lot of rage towards him and you're both skilled at fighting.
"Ha! Maybe so."
"How would you do it?" You ask, "Defeat Gannon, I mean."
Malon tilts her head with a hum, thinking about the logistics of her ideal victory. She bites her lip as she does this.
"I think I'd just take my cast iron skillet to his head." Malon says with a shrug, "What about you?"
"Hm- I meN I'd wanna say the sword would let me weird it and go that route... but I'd probably be more likely to fight him with a baseball bat full of nails."
"That's a good choice."
"I think so!"
Malon changes the subject again, this time to the places you've been.
And you just enjoy the downtime with the redhead. You definitely are starting to fully grasp why Time likes her so much.
.......
Time can't stand can't of this, settled at a campfire in the Great plateu of Wild's hyrule is awful. Time's only thoughts are of you and Malon.
The woods are no comfort to him. Only making him more on edge because you could be anywhere in any time, and he'd never even see you if you were here.
Time is so worried. And everything is too quiet.
He's- used to not having Malon around all the time on this quest... But you've been there so long your absence is particularly felt.
The lack of your smile and laugh has been awful. Your help with cooking has been missed. The soft touches as you help him dress wounds -
Oh he's so fucked.
"I'm sure it's fine." Wind says a s he sits down by Time.
"Sailor - you don't know that. "
"I do. You have a type. Stubborn." Wind's smile at the end is a little smug.
"I- that is not my type."
"It's part of it."
"I'm just worried about them. Obviously, something happened. Neither of them would just run away. "Time says as he narrows his gaze on the ground.
"No... they wouldn't. "Sky says, "But they're together, are they're both smart."
"That doesn't mean they are in danger. I'm not even sure the mask is going to be helpful. What if they haven't even found it?"
Wind just listens, not sure how to help but wishing Time eoukd stop being so on edge.
"It will be okay, Time. Obviously you get them back. Or Twilight wouldn't exist." Sky tries to reason.
"That only means I get Malon back- what if (Y/n) dosen’t ever come back? What if It's my fault and I didn't hear them and-"
"Time." Twilight says firmly to try to stop the rambling spiral the man seems set on.
Everyone is worried about you and Malon. Everyone wants to get you all to safety-
"Hey, old man." Warriors calls out, "Come look at this."
Time stands, gaze landing on Warriors next to the largest tree in the forest, roots almost like their own tunnel.
The man was towards the knight, waiting for more instruction.
"These are (Y/n)'s initials, aren't they?"
Time looks, and maybe your hylian and his hylian are very different but you'd taught him how you tagged certain things when lost. A habit picked up from a survivalist uncle.
The tag carved into the tree reads your intials and then 'day 4'.
Unfortunately, the wood is well healed. At least fifty years have passed, probably longer. But the chain hadn't been in the plateu before, which means -
You got pulled away through a portal. With Malon at your side, probably. And you are in the past of the current time the boys are in.
That's some real shit.
"Well... at least we know what happened to them?" Wild trues, not really soundings too confident in it.
"I'm going for a walk." Time says in place of any real answer.
"Should we tag that way?" Wind suggests from behind the group.
"Maybe." Wild says, "So they can at least keep up with where we've been."
Warriors nods, deciding to tag the tree below your carving 'H.C. day 9.'
He just hopes you can figure it out.
Time can be seen going on a walk Allright, a real pissy walk.
Yikes.
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madneedshelp · 9 months
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Spotify Love Story - Sam Kiszka x FReader
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Summary: You’ve been in love with your friend, Sam, for so long. You happen to get a peek at his spotify by chance, only to find that he’s dedicated a heartbreaking amount of playlists to a mystery woman he’s obviously in love with. You’d kill to figure out who she is, but you may know her much better than you think…
(This delightful prompt was left anonymously on obetrolncocktails’s blog, whoever came up with it is a genius and I love you) 
Warnings: language, angst, miscommunication (don’t come for me), alcohol consumption 
WC: 3.4k
Sam was always late. Thankfully never as late as his older twin brothers, but still pretty late to most everything. Needless to say, this wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself lounging on Daniel Wagner’s couch while waiting for him to meet the both of you. 
“We should really just pick him up at his place next time,” Danny sighed, checking the time on his phone for the tenth time. 
You let out a light chuckle. “Do you think it would help? Then we’d just be waiting on his couch.”
“Touché.” 
It was another fifteen minutes before there was a knock on the door. Only forty-five minutes late this time. He was getting better. 
“Sammy! Glad you decided to join us!” You laid on the overly sweet, passive-aggressive tone to your voice as Daniel let your friend inside. 
Sam waved you off dismissively as he entered the living room area. “Hey now, don’t be like that. Besides, you look pretty damn comfy on Daniel’s couch, so I don’t think you were suffering too much.”
 “She’s probably just hangry because we could be eating right now, but someone just arrived.” Danny nudges Sam’s arm as he walks past and over to you. He holds out his hands to pull you up off the couch and you gladly accept. 
“Why thank you, Danny. It’s nice to see that one of my boys has manners.” You grin up at him and throw Sam a quick side eye. 
The latter lets out a scoff, but you loop your free arm through his and lead them out the door. Danny was partially right, you were getting hangry. Besides, the three of you were off to a new place downtown for lunch and you were really looking forward to trying it. 
The whole put-out thing was completely an act. It’s not like you minded hanging out with Danny while you two waited on Sam, and it’s not like you really minded Sam being late either. You’d been close with the two of them since they moved to Nashville. While it had been pure coincidence to run into the up-and-coming Greta Van Fleet years ago, the friendship formed in the time since had held strong. While you did talk to all of them fairly often, it was the rhythm section that had really bonded with you. 
“Since I was tragically late, I’ll drive us. How’s that for manners?” Sam smirked at you as he veered toward his car. 
“It’s a start,” You smirked back at him. 
“Well, I can’t have him beating me at my own game, so why don’t you take shotgun?” Danny quickened his pace to beat you to the car and open your door. “After you, sweetheart.”
You feigned a flustered act as you climbed inside. “My goodness, Daniel, you make a girl feel like a princess.”
Danny gave a quick bow and hopped in the backseat behind you. Sam sighed as he shut his own door. 
“Jesus, Daniel, how am I supposed to win with you pulling that shit?” He looked almost ready to admit defeat before he perked up. That was his “idea face”, and that could mean both good and bad things. He turned to you with a grin. “Hey, why don’t you pick the music?”
A look of pure shock washed over both you and Danny. Sam was known to be kind of a music snob. Sure, he had good taste, but he was a bit of an asshole about it and he loved to be in charge of the aux. 
“I don’t think he’s ever volunteered this before.” Dany whispered to you. 
“Never thought I’d see the day.” You whispered back. 
Sam rolled his eyes and shoved his unlocked phone at you. “Oh shut up, just pick something on Spotify and be grateful.”
Deciding to take your rare win, you held your tongue and went to open Spotify. It was in that moment that you became aware of how unprepared you were. You weren’t expecting to be entrusted with music duty, and your brain was conveniently forgetting any song you ever liked. 
This was what led you to what felt like the biggest mistake of the day. 
Sam probably had plenty of playlists that you would be in the mood for, or that would at the very least inspire your own choice. You clicked on his library and started scrolling. It seemed like there were mostly playlists with witty titles that seemed very “Sam” at first, but then your eyes snagged on something. 
“Can’t Get Her Out of My Head”
“Wish I Woke Up to Your Face”
“I’d Play These For You When We Slow Dance”
You felt your heart sink into a bottomless pit. What the fuck were these playlist titles? No, you knew exactly what they were. This was the kind of thing people do when they’re absolutely head-over-heels in love with someone. Sam was in love with someone. 
He was in love, and that broke your heart because you were in love with him.
“Jeez, I let you pick the music once and you don’t even have something you want to play? I might have to turn music duty over to Dan.” Sam joked from the driver’s seat as he pulled out onto the road. 
You didn’t laugh at his joke. You didn’t pick any music. You just numbly handed the phone over to Danny. “Here, you choose, I can’t think of anything.” 
It wasn’t a lie. You really couldn’t think about anything besides the fact that Sam was obviously enamored with someone, and you’d been in love with him for years. Literal years. It made you feel pathetic and sad, but you were mostly just stunned. He hadn’t even mentioned her to you, which he’d done with all his past girlfriends since you met him.
Danny and Sam shot you an odd look, but neither said anything. Danny put on one of his favorite albums and Sam started chattering about how they could incorporate some of the elements into one of their new songs. You mustered up the ability to smile and nod along with the conversation, but it would be a lie to say you were retaining any of it. 
Before you knew it, you were seated beside Danny at the restaurant and staring blankly at a menu. As soon as Sam had excused himself to go to the restroom, Danny elbowed you lightly.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” He asked, keeping his voice low in case Sam returned.
You looked over at him and shook your head. “Nothing, just hungry.”
“Alright, what are you ordering then? You’ve been staring at the menu for like ten minutes.”
“Not sure yet, it all looks pretty good.” You shrugged.
He gave you a skeptical glance and snatched your menu before you could protest. “Name two things on the middle page, you know, the one you’ve been looking at.”
You let out an irritated sigh and grabbed for your menu, which he thankfully relented. “Fine. I wasn’t looking at the menu. I’m not hungry. Is that what you fucking wanted to hear?” 
His eyes widened slightly at your harsh whisper. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, I’m sorry. I promise I just wanted to know what happened in the car that made you sad…and don’t try to tell me you aren’t because I know you and I know something is bothering you.”
It took you a moment to speak. Honestly, if you weren’t so worried Sam would show back up soon, you probably wouldn’t have admitted anything. 
“Danny, does Sam like someone? Like have you seen him maybe talking to anyone a lot lately or, I don’t know, flirting with anyone?” Your eyes traveled down to your lap as you let the question escape. 
You could’ve sworn his eyes flashed with something like surprise, but he shook his head. “Nope, I’m not sure, but maybe you should talk to Sam about this.”
“Liar, you know something. I can see it in your face, so I suggest you tell me because there is no way I’m talking to Sam about this.” You set the menu down and turned to face him. 
“Listen, I really think you should just ask Sam about this. Trust me, okay?” Danny looked at you with a shocking sincerity. He wasn’t kidding and you weren’t sure what this was for.
Unless he did know something, and he didn’t want to be the one to let you down easy. Fuck, fucking fuck. Danny wanted you to ask Sam about the girl, so that Sam could be the one to tell you. 
Your eyes were starting to faintly sting and anger surged in you. You were a grown adult. You were not about to cry over a boy in a restaurant. This wasn’t a new love. You’d pined over Sammy for a while, and you’d both dated other people during the time you’d known each other. You were not going to let this get to you. 
“Ask me what?” Sam slid down into the other side of the booth, looking between you and Danny. 
Wonderful timing on his part. Instead of turning into the spluttering mess you were on the verge of becoming, you took a sip of your water and grabbed your menu while preparing to use the most nonchalant voice you’d ever come up with on the fly. 
“Oh, I was just asking Danny to help me decide between the sandwiches. We were having trouble actually figuring out what we want, so he said to ask you, but I think I know what I want now so the crisis has been averted.” 
Sam stared at you for a moment, a little wrinkle sitting between his brows. “Oh.” 
He most definitely had some suspicions about your excuse, but the waitress showed up to take your orders and to unknowingly save you from a very awkward conversation. You changed the subject once she was gone, and ensured conversation never drifted back. The subject wasn’t revisited for the rest of lunch. 
—-------
It had been a full week of stewing over Sam’s spotify playlists before you saw him again. You at least had some luck in the fact that he happened to be busy that week with work. He’d only asked you to meet up once, but you claimed you had errands to run and no other time to do them. He hadn’t pushed too hard, but he did send you a picture of Rosie looking sad on his couch with some caption about her missing your presence on your weekly walks with her.
Deep down you hoped he missed you too. 
Sunday night rolled around, and Josh had texted all of you to come for dinner at his place. You originally weren’t going to go, but all the Kiszkas and Danny had responded saying they’d be there, so you figured you had enough of a buffer that it would be safe. You had to see Sam at some point anyway. 
It was a little silly if you really thought about it. You were avoiding him, and nothing had even actually happened. All you did was stumble upon some playlists, and then you were the one who got weird. 
It was just that you thought something was different this time. You and Sam had both been single for a while now, and he’d been making more plans with you. It was probably stupid, but you thought maybe it meant something. Well, you used to think that. 
Equipped with a bottle of wine and a dessert that you made sure everyone could eat, you found yourself at Josh’s door promising yourself that tonight was going to be fun and you were done worrying about the love life of Sam Kiszka.
“Hello, I brought booze,” You grinned as Josh opened the door to let you inside.
He beamed back at you and took your dessert plate so you could set down your things. “Perfect! I knew there was a reason I invited you.” 
“Aw, you always know how to make a person feel special, Josh.” You clutched your heart jokingly and headed for the kitchen to greet everyone else. 
Jake was cooking while Sam and Danny made margaritas, and it seemed that everyone had partners there besides you and Sam. Not that that was a surprise, you figured they’d be there. You just hadn’t really thought about the fact that you two were currently the only single ones.
“Any way I could get one of those?” You took a seat at the kitchen island across from where Sam stood. 
Sam smiled at you and held up a margarita with a look of contemplation. “Hmm, I’m not sure. You did skip out on the walk on Thursday. Rosie is very upset, and I’m not sure she’d want you to have it.” 
Even when he teased you, he was still so fucking cute. It didn’t hurt that he looked really good tonight. You always loved when he pulled his hair back into a low bun, and he had on one of the sweaters you’d bought him for Christmas last year. Not that you cared about that.
“I promise I will make it up to Rosie and we can go for an extra long walk next week. Maybe even a hike on this one trail I was reading about that’s like an hour away.” You offered. 
“Deal,” he handed you the glass. “We will be taking you up on that offer for the hike.”
“Sounds good,” you nodded and took a sip, careful to keep a smile. You were friends first, you reminded yourself. You had been his friend for years and you could keep doing that.
Not long after, Jake announced that food was ready. As always when he cooked, everyone flocked to the table immediately. Jake and Sam were truly great chefs, and you knew the food would be great before you even tasted it. 
Sure enough, the meal was fantastic, and it was gone all too soon. The company was great too. You actually forgot about your little personal spiral for an evening and just got to be with your friends. 
It was nice enough out, and a bonfire was suggested. While everyone else went out to set up, you hung back with Danny and his girlfriend to gather the drinks. It wasn’t a Kiszka bonfire without booze, of course.
As you finished loading up a cooler with beers, Danny grabbed your elbow. “Can we talk about lunch last week?” 
You shot him a look. “What about it?” 
“Sam said you canceled plans on him and you’ve been off. I take it you didn’t talk to him?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I said I wasn’t going to, but let’s not worry about that.” You pushed the lid onto the cooler a little harder than you needed to.
Danny sighed. “You’re right, I do think he likes someone, and I really think you two should talk things out.” 
You whirled to face Danny with a glare. His girlfriend smacked his arm lightly. “Jesus, honey, why are you being so cryptic? I really don’t think it’s helping.” 
“She’s right,” you picked up the cooler. “It’s really just making me feel worse, and I don’t want to talk about Sam’s mystery woman anymore because if you can’t tell, I’m kind of in love with him.”
Before you could process what you just said, you headed out the back door. Danny and his girlfriend followed not long after, coolers in hand. He looked pretty apologetic when he met your eyes and you gave him a sad smile and an “it’s okay” nod in return. 
The night would still be good. You promised yourself that. Jake and Danny went and got their acoustic guitars, Josh sang along a little with them, it was nice. Except for the fact that Sam kept glancing at you, and you were becoming more and more sure that Danny told him what you said.
Unfortunately, the drink supply was cut off prematurely when an entire cooler got knocked over and the contents shattered on the concrete. Alas, that wasn’t going to kill the evening either. 
In an odd turn of events, Sam was the most sober of the crowd, and therefore volunteered to go on a drink run. He had only had one margarita, whereas the rest of you had gone a bit further. Well, you hadn’t drank much either with your mind on other things.
“Hey, why don’t you come with me?” Sam’s voice startled you.
You blinked at him. “What?” 
He chuckled. “Just come with me to get more stuff. This way we get to pick out all the good stuff we like and use Josh’s credit card.” 
“Yeah, okay, let me get my purse.” You nodded slowly and went to find your stuff.
Not the alone time. You came because there would be a buffer. You’d get over yourself eventually, but you hadn’t exactly prepared for a car ride alone with him. Especially not when Daniel may or may not have relayed the confession of your love to him. 
You were committed to going now though, so you would just have to pray that he didn’t bring it up. You met him out front and climbed into the passenger seat, vaguely reminded of the last time you sat there. 
“No music duty this time?” You joked, though it came out a little halfhearted.
Sam didn’t look up from his phone as he answered. “Nope, not this time. Technically, you didn’t even have music duty last time.” 
“Oh whatever, I had it and then Daniel took over.” You scoffed. 
The first song that came on was familiar, but the two of you kept talking. Still, you recognized it and kept an ear out. The next song was also familiar. So was the third. By the fourth, you had strong suspicions of what was going on.
Sam pulled in the parking lot of the liquor store when you finally figured it out for sure. 
“What the actual fuck, Sam.” You grit out.
He looked genuinely surprised by your anger. “What? What’s wrong?” 
You barked a bitter laugh. “Playing the fucking playlists you made for her? Right in front of me? Why would you do that?” 
Sam unbuckled and turned to better face you. “Who is her? What are you talking about?”
“The woman you’re in love with! The playlists with so much Hozier and the cheesy titles! The playlists you fucking made for her! I know Danny told you, you’ve been looking at me weird since I accidentally told him, so why would you play her playlists for me now?” You shouted, on the verge of sobbing right there in the car.
He leaned the slightest bit closer and placed a hand on your cheek, which you wanted to yank away but couldn’t make yourself. “There is no her. I made them for you.” 
You sniffled in what was probably the most unattractive way. “Me? They’re mine?” 
He smiled a little, in a bashful way that didn’t happen often. “All yours. You’re the one I’m in love with. I should’ve told you sooner, but I wasn’t sure how felt. I didn’t want to lose you, but then you started acting off and I figured out that you probably saw the playlists the other day and decided it was time to lay it all out there. For the record, Daniel hasn’t told me anything about you tonight.” 
It was you. He actually loved you. He put those stupid, incredibly sweet playlists together because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 
Your face broke out in a full smile. “I’m glad you told me, and I’m even more glad that Danny didn’t tell you anything.” 
“Why’s that?” He asked, his own smile growing. 
“Because now I get to tell you that I love you myself. I’ve loved you for so long. I love you, Sammy.” You moved in closer to him, leaning your forehead against his.
“And I love you.” He let himself melt further into your touch, and when your lips finally met, you could feel that that was completely true.
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dapper-zappa · 9 months
Text
“She’s Everything. He’s just Stark.” | Tony Stark
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Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife!Reader
Summary: Let's see how would it be like if you and Tony saw the Barbie movie together, shall we?
Word count: 597
Warnings: Kinda crack fic so forgive me for that and it being short, banter, references of irl celebs bc I HC that they all exist in the MCU world, Tony being the ideal bf fr, reader can be either an Avenger or civilian up to your interpretation, pretend Endgame, Infinity War, and Civil War never happened, Barbie movie spoilers (don't be like those bfs who are secretly misogynists, y'all)
A/N: Came up with this idea when I was chatting with my friends on Discord and idc what y'all say, Tony would watch Barbie for his gal (and himself) even if ironically his actor is in Oppenheimer 😭
Also I always find the HC that RDJ and Tony coexisting in the MCU to be hilarious bc they're basically lookalikes of each other in my head BAHHAHDSHHFDF
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“That was…”
“Amazing. I love how empowering this movie is.” Tony continued, turning away from the screen to face you with the cutest grin ever plastered on his face. 
“Barbie World'' by Ice Spice and Nicki Minaj blared itself inside the theater studio as the credits played on the silver screen. The lights had turned on and people were starting to leave now that the Barbie movie had finished showing, with you and Tony deciding to watch it not just because of the trend, but mostly because of how you really looked forward to that movie before it premiered. While people are leaving, you, your boyfriend, and some others still lingered inside to watch the credits.
You smiled back at him. “I know, right? I never expected a movie about a literal Barbie doll to be this deep, but man, Greta Gerwig did such a fantastic job!” 
He leaned in to give your cheek a kiss. “You know, babe, hearing Gloria’s monologue about women’s struggles made me even more proud of you for being a really strong woman.” he pecked your other cheek. “You’re always there for me and your loved ones, you’re never shy of fighting for your own goodness, and last but not least, being the best wife ever.” 
“Thanks, Tones.” you replied.
“You’re welcome, because I think this is the best movie experience I ever had with my girl. Me watching one of the best movies of this year with my best girl? Yes please!” he exclaimed cheerfully.
Tony Stark might be one of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, but he’s deep down just a loving man who loved his wife and cared for his friends. He had his own needs and interests, not just him being Iron Man plastered on murals or a kid’s bedroom poster. You, on the other hand, were a woman he admired so much for being an iron-willed woman who dedicated your life to make everyone feel better. After years of dating him, he finally proposed, with the two of you finally tying the knot some time later. 
“Honey?” you asked. 
“What’s up, Mrs. Stark?” 
“I think I know someone who should definitely play another Ken if there’s a sequel.” 
Tony tilted his head and slightly squinted his eyes in suspicion. “Who is it, hmm? You want Steve Rogers to be a Ken? Oh please, you know who’s the better choice.” he smirked playfully. 
“Robert Downey Jr.” you joked. 
“What? Out of everyone in this entire world, you chose someone who looks a lot like me instead of the actual me? The actual Tony Stark? How could you, baby?” he exclaimed, putting his hand on his chest in pretend shock. “Are you saying that you’re taking the ‘She’s everything, he’s just Ken’ thing seriously?” 
A lighthearted laughter escaped your mouth at the sight of your husband’s reaction. “Tony, I’m kidding, okay? Besides, why would I disrespect the man who’s literally boyfriend and husband material? These matching shirts aren’t supposed to be taken seriously! If anything, you’re way better than Ken, baby.” you gestured to the matching t-shirts you both wore. 
On your shirt, it said “She’s everything.” while Tony’s matching one said “He’s just Stark”. It was custom made thanks to the slogan being different and Tony wanted the name to be Stark instead of Ken, much to your dismay but nevertheless you thought he looked great in it. 
“Now that’s the Y/N I know and love.” 
You stood up from your seat and offered your hand to him. “Absolutely. Now let’s go, we have dinner waiting for us.” 
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panda-noosh · 10 months
Text
the barbie movie made me want to hug my grandmother
i went to see the new Barbie movie yesterday.
honestly, despite the hype of this film, i wasn’t all that interested in seeing it. barbies were never something i played with, and i’d never seen any of the other barbie films, and i had no idea how much of a message this movie would hold - so i just kind of. . . skimmed past it anytime it showed up on my feed.
but my two best friends were ecstatic, and because i love just being in the presence of people i love and appreciate, i decided to come along too. so i bought a ticket, got my popcorn - i even wore pink! we got our seats, and the movie began.
and right from the get-go, i knew this wasn’t a film to be messed with.
it sounds so dramatic, but it was just so good. i usually hate the cinema (autism, don’t ask...), but i sat through this film like a rock, honest to god. not once did i check the time to see when i could get up and leave. not once did i think it was dragging. i was genuinely so involved with this film as i was watching it, that it was a surprise when the end credits started rolling. i wanted more. i could have sat there, living in barbieland, forever. 
it’s a very feminist film, as i’m sure everybody knows by now. the way it was done was also perfect; i’m kind of getting sick of these ‘feminist films’ where the message is so. . . subtle. it’s one scene of a woman becoming CEO in a big name company, or a Mum finally getting the chance to live her life! don’t get me wrong, that’s always so lovely to see, but Barbie wasn’t subtle about the feminism in the slightest. our greta was not afraid to show the ugly truth of a woman’s world. she wasn’t afraid to hurt the feelings of men. she wasn’t being careful. in a fun and respectful way, she was able to illuminate the daily struggles of women all over the world, how desensitised we have come to the horrendous ways we have been treated over the years, the expectations set upon us that we don’t even question anymore. it showed women appreciating women, women being successful, women living for themselves. it was just fantastic, and it didn’t take itself too seriously, and it was beautiful.
i knew it was a good feminist film when my best friend reached over and held my hand for the last half of it. for no reason that i could pinpoint, she just reached over our drinks and took my hand in hers, just two women living in solidarity, struggling through the same patriarchal world. it was the type of film that made me want to go hug my grandmother. it made me want to compliment every single woman i encountered on the way back to my car. it reminded me that i am indeed a woman, and i am indeed living under the thumb of men in more ways than i was ever able to recognise, because it was just so normal. i’m so guilty of lowering my standards for men sometimes. i’m so guilty so letting them get away with things, because they’re men! they don’t know any better! i’m so guilty of giving into the patriarchal system, half my head on my own goals whilst the other half stays dead set on keeping everyone else happy. this movie reminded me that i - and everyone else - needs to find who they are without the influence of anyone else’s opinion or presence. 
so, overall, this movie was ten out of ten. one of the only ten out of ten films i’ve seen this year. i was in absolute awe of how a piece of media could be so funny yet so enlightening at the same time. 
thank you, greta gerwig. you created yet another masterpiece. 
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spitinsideme · 3 months
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What are some other gay ships you like besides ragapom?
mae x jules from.the show devil in ohio .. i dont think ajyone understands my love for this ship and i jate how little fanfiction anf fanart tgere is of this show in general. i love this show so much devil in ohio os 5hr best show rver but i jst wsnt to say rigjt now that theg fucked the ending uo bevsude it coukd have been MORE like it shpukd hae bern MORE !!! tbe thing that happened between mae and jules was literally made up fakr drama tjat jules would have never even started at that point in their friendship, it was drama athat wpukd have nrver occured woth the way they were progresseing and the friendship stage they were in ajd i jate how it was played out it wad so fake it was so forxed and i hated it. i hated the ending i jated everything aboit the last fee episofes becaude it felt rushed it felt like the point wss to just show how fucmed this girl was and how she ruins everythinf and how manipulative she is in just 4 episodes and it wad so .. weord becsude she was progressing so well !!! itwas so out of noehere, especially taht drama between jules best friend oscar or soem bullshit and mae ??? likr its not maes failt tjat people went to her or that she got popular, and jules wpuld havr mevrr blamed it on mae at thay point becaude cjaracayer develolment had occured !!! idontknow .. i really like that ship and id love to makr fanart for it one day
claudia x grace from tbe movie my first summer. this movie was suorrduorr amaizng it was a lesbian movie i watxhed last yesr when i was on a lesbian binge mmovir and i estcbed many obscure lesbian videos ( i remdver i wtched an italian bdsm gay mpvie whrre these two girls played .. sensual sadistic hide and seek ????? it was odd .. 10/10 movie ) but ky first sumer wad greta i mens it wa sad it had an ambiguois open ending as most lesbia movies do but overall i llved itsoosmuch and tbeir kiss wss so fucking sdorsble everythinf about it wad sosos adorable and i hate hoe its not even popular ??? not many peope have wstxhe dit when its the BEST lesbian mocie ever its my favrouote literlaly ever !!! theres nnot much fsnart of fansgiction for ir rither whoch SUCKS !! i wsnt to ome dya mske it for them
laura lee x lottie from the show yellowjackets. i feel like ay this point you understand that i love my ships to have religious symbolism, something religious is going on behind it, and also, blonde x brunette !! i dontknow if aby of you have watched it but SPOILER INCOMING !!!!!!!! aftet they had their HOT AND SPICY AND HOMOEROTIC baptism scene on thwir lake i was lime woah !!! i wa ssososure they woukd have had a little will they wont they situation, a little ooo they might kiss but they probbaly wont because laura lee is cathcokix and has intrrnalised homiphobiaaas !!!! or whatrver ixonfknow bit then SHE FUCKING DIES. AND I WANT YOU ALL TO KNOW WHEN SHE DIED I STOPPED WATCHING I NEEDED TO TAKE A BREAK !!I TOOK A LOMG THREE WEK BREAK FROM YELLOEJSCKETS BECAUDE EVERYTHING I SAW, EVERYRHINF I WATCHED, EVERYTHINF REMINDED ME OF LAURA LEE AND IT HURT ME !!! IT HURT THAT I CPULDNT SEE MORR OF HER AND THAT SHE COUKDNT HAVE BEEN MORE AND THAT SHE WAS JUST THE CATHOLIX GIRL THATS ALL SHE WAS AND THATD ALL SHE DIED AS !!! AND I HATE THAT EVEN NOW I HAVE MEVER GOTTEN SO ATTACHED TO A CAHARCYRR !!! SOMETIMSI CRY REMDMEBRRONG SHES DEAD AND WILL NEVER GET TO BE MORE AND HAVE MORE AND BE COMPLEX AND SHOW HER COMPLEX THINGS !!! IT SUCKS !!!
emaline x kate from the show everything sucks. firstly, the show fucks anf i think metflix shpuld like lesbians more i mean comeon ee get ONE lesbian canon relationshio and sufdenly CNACELLED !!! we have to fucking neg for scrapes and secondly, MY FUCKING GOODDD !!!! GOOD FUCKING GOD !!! BECAUDE WHEN I SAW KATE REACH ITO HER TROUSERS WHILST LOOKONG AT THISE SEDUCTIVE PITTLR IMAGES OF WOMAN I SCREAMR DI FUCKING SCREAMED I SCREAMED LIKE A FUCKING BANSHEE AT A PRIDE PARADE !!!! I WAS SO HAPPY SHE WAS GAY !!! and when kate and emaline kissed .. i was so hapoyy i had to lause to jsut love in the moment for a bit .. theyre the best evet .. i esnt to make fanart for them .... sigh ... not enough fabart of fansfiction about them ...
enid x wednesday is also prety cute !! im not like reallyrealy imto it but its alright also im going to take a moment to beat that fucking xavierd ass i hate him do much i hope he dies its nlt even because he was a love interestedi mena that sucmed too but its becayse hes so fucking annoyong oooo my dad id alwayd on the roll or whatever and im depresseddd so i male art because im a sad fucjing srtist god go fucking get therapy stop fucking being a cunt i hate him so much
thats it .. i think .. if i remeber more ill uodate this ...
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widowkate · 2 years
Text
the best day | hayley marshall
- based off ‘the best day’ by taylor swift
SUMMARY: on the fourth year anniversary of your moms death you remember all the good moments ( and some of the bad ) you had with her.
relationship: hayley marshall x daughter!reader & minor lizzie saltzman x reader
warning: bullying, cursing(?)
request?: no
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At five years old, your mom told you about the story of vampire, witches and werewolves. It was kid proofed and she would go into more detail when you were older but you had to know this stuff because your parents were hybrids and your aunts and uncles were the original family.
You watched her explain it to you and your twin sister hope in her gentle and kind voice. You couldn’t help but feel anxious as she explained that werewolves were real. Like in little red riding-hood. But your mom wasn’t scared, she was brave. And you wanted to be like her. Because she was the best person you knew.
You and Hope had been attending the salvatore boarding school since you were seven. And you guys never really clicked with anyone. It’s not like you didn’t try — it’s just that being the tribrid freaks didn’t exactly help out.
Now in your teen years, thirteen to be exact, the girls attending the school were mean. especially the headmasters daughters, lizzie and josie.
“No wonder your daddy didn’t stick around, he couldn’t resist his murder urges long enough to be a father” Some kid in class, you think her name is alyssa, yelled out pointing to the title of the book on everyone’s desk klaus mikaelson the great evil
feeling tears weld up in your eyes you stood up, lizzie saltzman watched hesitantly before speaking out her own hurtful words “Yeah i mean, who would want hope and y/n as their kids anyways?”
It stung, it really did. You didn’t know why Lizzie and Josie suddenly started jumping at yours and your sisters throats. It started happening after some fire in hopes room. But it hurt, You used to really like the blonde. Imagining what it would be like if you and hope took up the offer to be friends with her when you first arrived.
You ran out of the classroom and into your dorm. Putting up a barrier spell and crying on your floor. After two hours of refusing to leave your room — even when headmistress caroline forbes knocked and asked you if you wanted to talk about it. You heard a familiar knock and the kind voice of your mother call out “Sweetie, Do you mind coming out?” headmistress forbes must have called her.
You wiped your tears and opened the door “Mommy” You cried and gave her a hug. She rubbed your back for ten minutes until you calmed down. Then told you to follow her.
You spent the day at mystic grill for lunch, and then shopping, then some icecream and to finish the day off — you went on a walk around mystic falls.
When your mom gave you the tightest hug ever and told you to call her if you needed anything — no matter how small, you couldn’t even remember who alyssa chang and lizzie saltzman were.
You had the best day with your mom today.
At fifteen years old, You watched with power-disabling chains on your wrist as someone you knew as your uncle elijah stabbed your father “Elijah” Your mom whispered out. But he didn’t help her. He walked over to you and grabbed you as he saw you run towards your mom. She closed her eyes for a second before looking between you and hope. Mouthing ‘I love you’ before pulling greta’s hand out of her chest — snapping off gretas daylight ring finger and using her vampire speed to speed out the door. You watched as your mom light up in flames as your dad screamed and your uncle elijah, the man she loved released you. You fell to your knees and ran over to your moms burning body screaming something along the lines of mom! don’t leave me, i still need you . Your dad grabbed you before you could touch her burning body.
That was the worst day of your life
Now, At nineteen after defeating a god with the help of people you thought you never be friends with. Holding the hand of the person you thought would never such as breathe near you willingly — You stand infront of the tree that had carved in hayley marshall
“I’ll miss you forever mom” You whisper, tracing the writing with your fingers before wiping the tear that fell. You felt a hand on your back and looked up to face your girlfriend, lizzie saltzman.
She pulled you in for a hug as you sobbed into her shoulder. You would miss your mom forever, Just as your sister hope will. But your mom loved you, you know that. So that’s why you chose to celebrate her life.
“I love you mom” You whisper quietly.
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