#my car is a safe place. a comfortable place. and I’m happy to help any way that I can. let’s toss the dirty minds eh.

[zumistew]

holding their hand

Tokyo revengers boys holding your hand for the first time

includes: Draken, Mitsuya, Baji x fem!reader

tags: fluff, flirting, protectiveness??

A/N: this is my first story so it may not be perfect

Draken

Draken was never good at communicating his feelings which made you unsure if your crush was reciprocated. You were now walking home after watching a movie with Ken that you invited him to. Although the two of you were walking home in silence it was weirdly comforting.

“Y/N” Draken calls out looking down to your small figure next to him. “Yes” you respond looking up at him with a faint smile. Draken has a stoic expression on his face but his eyes show a bit of uncertainty, “do you think it was wrong of me to let Pah-chin turn himself in…..be honest.” You pause for a moment to process his question “no…what makes you ask that.” Drakens body slightly relaxes as a slight, almost unnoticeable smile creeps up on his face, “no reason.”

You two continue to walk in silence along the pier. As you see a smoothie spilt on the ground you push closer to him to avoid stepping in it. Before you increase the distance between the two of you again he grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. You look up at him confused with a small smile. “You alright Y/N?” he ask you with a smirk.

Mitsuya

You were a member of mitsuyas sewing club and ended up staying later than usual to work on a dress. Mitsuya offered to stay back with you to help you work on it. He was now walking you home since he insisted because it’s the “gentleman thing to do.”

“I bet that dress will look great on you Y/N” Mitsuya says with a smile as he looks at you. “I hope so…and thanks for helping me work on it” you respond back to him with a smile.

Yall now approach a cross walk as y’all wait for the cars to stop. “Don’t hesitate to ask me for help I’m always happy to help you” he says as he places a hand on top of your head. You smile as y’all begin to cross the street.

A car begins to speed down the street ignoring the red light. He grabs your hand to stop you from walking any further as the car zooms past the two of you

“Thanks” you smile at mitsuya. he nods “people should be more aware of what’s going on around them, he could hit someone” he says as he’s still holding your hand even after you two have finished crossing the street. You look down at the two of your interlocked hands and look up at him. “Do you want me to let go?” He ask with an innocent smirk.

Baji

you and Baji had the same class together and occasionally talked. Earlier that day he asked you to tutor him, you were now both leaving the school pretty late because of your prolonged tutor session. You two both happened to live in the same direction which forced you two to walk home together.

You two were now passing by a not so safe area and noticed a group of guys staring at the two of yall. They began to approach the two of you and you notice Baji become tense. “Come on this side of me” Baji states in a serious tone as he grabs your shoulders to place you on the side of him the group of guys weren’t approaching.

“It’s pretty late why are yall out” one of the members of the group ask with a smirk. A stoic look appears on Bajis face “why do you care.” “How did you pull this pretty thing” another member ask as he approaches you. Bajis eyes go wide with anger as he grabs your hand to aggressively pull you away from the guy before kicking him onto the floor.

The group looks startled as one of the guys try to tend to the guy on the floor knocked unconscious. Baji grips your hand tighter as he tries to get you away from the scene that just unfolded, the group of guys not even bothering to chase him being concerned about there friend.

You look at him with wide eyes “who knew you had so much strength what was that?” you ask clearly suprised. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me” Baji says smiling allowing his fangs to show. “But if I knew you had to walk through such a dangerous area I would’ve started walking you home earlier” Baji says slightly squeezing your hand causing you to blush.

Part 2 with other characters?

[sage-green-matcha]

WHAT WAS I MADE FOR? - ETHAN LANDRY ✨

“Cause I, I don't know how to feel. But I wanna try. I don't know how to feel, but someday I might” - Billie Eilish

Content includes: Reader with depression, Ethan Fluff! Ethan helping you heal! Angst ig?

A/n: I’m so excited for the Barbie movie! I rlly wanted to write something with Billies song, just because she means so much to me! My first fanfic ever was a Billie one, it was horrible! Anyways, to anyone who feels stuck or in a slump just know you’ll be okay. There’s people who love and appreciate you even if you don’t feel it. I’ll always be here if any of you guys wanna talk! My request box is always open! ILY guys sm 💛

<3

<3

<3

You felt horrible. You had fallen into a deep hole that you couldn't get out of. You didn't even attempt to try. You missed many classes, your friends becoming concerned for you. You didn’t know what to do with life anymore. It had all collapsed down on you, you just couldn’t take it anymore.

You didn’t know your purpose in life. You were mentally stuck and you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t communicate your feelings because you didn’t understand them anymore.

You were happy, and you knew you could be happy again. You wanted to go back in time, fix everything and anything that went wrong. Just so you could save yourself from feeling this way.

Ethan Landry was the only one who could get you out of your slump. He knew exactly what to say, even if it didn’t always come out perfectly. “It’s okay…to feel like that. I mean you don’t always have to be perfect, Y/n. We love you for you” his shirt would soak up your tears, keeping you company as you cried. You felt safe with him. He didn’t judge or ignore you. He actually listened and gave his opinion on things. He was helping you heal and you didn’t know how. It was just Ethan being his usual self that helped you.

“Wanna go out on a drive?” Ethan stood at your room door with keys in hand, a baggy of your favorite snacks in the other. “Yea” your smile was brittle but it was still for him, and it made him melt every time you showed it.

“How’d you feel today?” You played with the strings of your hoodie, head laid back on the car seat. “Okay, I think? Sam and Tara were fighting all day, which made me annoyed. And then I was sad I think, or frustrated because they literally wouldn’t shut up” he was amazed at how trusting you were with him. You vocalized your feelings way better than before.

“I think I forgot how to be happy” a small frown was on your face, heavy bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. Ethan looked at you with concern, closing his laptop so all attention would be on you. “You can talk to me about whatever, okay…? I understand how you feel. I’ve been there before Y/n. It’s not easy to get out of but you can do it. I know you can” his words made you melt, providing comfort and warmth with each one.

You told him everything about yourself, he collected all the information and stored it in his heart. “Why were they fighting? I’m assuming Tara’s therapy?” “Mhm, she’s been acting different” you mumbled, your arm holding up your head as you looked out the window. The air blew through your hair, the warm New York air bringing you comfort.

“Can I take you somewhere?” You could tell he was nervous when he asked you. “Depends on where you’re taking me” “You’ll see” Next thing you knew he had you climbing up some sort of small mountain, taking a look at your surroundings once you got to the top. “The Hollywood sign? Real original, Landry” he smiled as you teased him, sitting down on the dead grass below.

“I like it up here. You can see everything” Your head rested on his shoulder, Ethan placing his jacket around you. He was blushing as you looked up at him, a thankful expression on your face. “How long have you been coming here for?” “Maybe a year now, since we started talking” Your curiosity got the best of you, having to ask why.

“I needed to like…I guess remember you. How pretty you are and…uh, stuff” You held back a giggle, watching as he stumbled over his words. “Cause you know! The view from here is so pretty…it’s pretty. Like you” he cleared his throat, thankful that the lights were off. If they were on you would’ve been able to see his red face, embarrassed at what he has just told you.

You found it so cute, pushing yourself closer to him, his arm gently wrapping around your waist. “Thanks, Eth, for everything. You’ve helped me so much…I” you held back on your words. You knew it was weird, to confess your love to him. Especially now, you had found someone who understood every part of you and you didn’t wanna risk getting that taken away.

“You…you what?” He gulped and you shook your head, trying to avoid the question. “Oh come on Y/n, you have to tell me now” “I can’t, it’s weird” he knew nothing you could say was weird. Even if it was a little, he would still validate you with his opinion.

“Just tell me” You shook your head, hiding your smile in his chest. “Okay, how about this? I’ll tell you something first?” “Okay, but it’s probably not as weird as my thing” he scoffed, his nose taking in the soft scent of your shampoo.

The silence killed you, even if it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Your heart pounded harder with each second that went by, hoping it was the same thing you wanted to say. “I love you, Y/n. I know I do” his eyes were closed tightly, looking at him in amusement.

"You do?" "Yea, I'm sorry" A scoff fell from your lips, pulling him by his collar down to yours. He followed your rhythm, lips latching on perfectly to each other. He tasted so sweet, and gentle. like his personality.

"I love you too" he scanned your face with a smile, grabbing your jaw gently before taking you in for another kiss. "How do you feel now?" you bit back your lip, holding a smile. "I'm happy Eth, you make me happy"

“Think I forgot, how to be happy. Something I’m not, but something I can be. Something I wait for, what was I made for?” - Billie Eilish <33

[maddie7writes]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄

paring : harry styles x reader

content : sexual assault, traumatic sexual experiences, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

summary : harry and y/n had been handling y/n’s past sexual experiences and working to make sure y/n feels safe and comfortable in any intimate setting, and it all comes crumbling down when they see y/n’s assaulter out in public

being with harry had challenges, such as a lack of privacy, his narcissism, causing a constant power struggle, his work life balance, the book of mental health problems between the two of harry and y/n led to the most imperfect of perfect relationships.

there whole relationship from the day they met had been a challenge, and that’s what excited them. a goal to work towards, and someone to compete with who will celebrate just as hard with you, and loose just as hard with you. they loved it.

but there was one challenge both of them preferred mot to touch, and that was y/n’s past sexual traumatic experiences. harry had found out about them earlier than both of them would have preferred but he couldn’t have handled it better.

they had just finished there fourth date, harry was driving y/n back to her house with a large grin on his face as she buzzed on and on about the amazing movie they had just seen. it was one of harry’s favorite things about her, how excited she got over the simple things in life.

the two had held hands throughout the movie, and that was as far as the two had gone other then the gentle forehead kiss y/n got at the end of the night as a parting gift. harry’s hand twitched, craving a more intimate touch but not wanting to move to fast. as she began to talk about the female lead (whom harry knew but he’d tell her that later) he carefully placed a heavy ringed hand on her knee, and her once brighter then life conversation with mainly herself died to a silence and harry’s sublime CD swallowed the car.

y/n thought the car would swallow her whole. her eyes were trained on harry’s veiny and ringed hand as his hand gently brushed the side of her knee, she tried to relax and put a soft smile on her face but her eyes just got glossy and the smile she had trained more then she thought possible wouldn’t appear.

“y/n?” harry’s hand froze and so did he as he looked over and saw y/n having an internal battle with herself. she hummed and looked over at harry, bright doe eyes trying there hardest to look happy. harry took his hand off her knee immediately, her leg shot up as she wrapped both her arms around it and let out a shaky breath, harry pulled over.

“hey- hey i’m so sorry- y/n- please say something.” harry turned his full body to her and went to reach out to her but stopped himself. y/n but her lip and swallowed. “i’m sorry-.” she said and started to cry, harry shook his head. “no- no you have no reason to be sorry. it was my fault i should’ve asked and not just sprung that on you.” harry said, y/n leaned against the door and looked at harry carefully.

“your not mad?” she asked, still holding her leg closely. harry shook his head, more scared than anything. “why would i be mad darling?” harry asked softly, y/n’s hold on her leg loosened slightly but she kept it close to her.

“i thought people got mad when you didn’t help them with.. that…kinda stuff…” she said quietly, harry felt his heart shatter. “y/n, please know i’ll never- ever get mad at you for not wanting me to touch you. if anything i’ll be proud of you for saying no and respecting your own boundaries.” harry gave a soft smile, she sniffled and shuffled around, nodding with an understanding.

“iv never had boundaries before.” y/n whispered. harry felt his stomach drop. “you don’t have to answer this, but… y/n, did someone hurt you?” harry asked as gently as he could. y/n sniffled, and slowly, she nodded. harry felt more anger than he thought he’d ever feel. and he’d never felt more scared, not when the band forgot to make that one hookup sign an NDA, not then when he made the choice to go solo, not when his step dad died, not when his mom was put on suicide watch. but now, as the girl he would fall in love with, went back to the worst experience in her life, because of him.

“i don’t wanna hurt you darling. the thought makes me sick.” harry began to cry, y/n nodded. “i wanna go home.” she said quietly, harry felt bile rise to his throat. this was it. this was the last time he’d ever see her. and he’d do whatever she needed to make her safe.

he drove her home to the last four songs on his sublime CD, and as he pulled up to the sketchy looking dorms he heard the sweetest voice he’d ever heard ask for a favor he would never turn down.

“will you stay the night? don’t wanna be alone.” y/n asked, and with tears in his eyes harry nodded, and walked her up to her room, tucked her into bed and made himself comfortable on the couch outside. feeling the job of protecting her settle onto him for the first time. and he loved it.

harry had grown accustomed to her traumas, and once they set boundaries that were set to be able to be changed later on in life, it was simply another thing they worked through. it also meant harry was stuck with his hand until marriage, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

harry had thought about trying to find the sick fuck a few times. he had the resource’s. but after a logical conversation with y/n he decided against it. sure he could find him, but what good would that be. harry himself couldn’t do anything for obvious reasons, and harry’s team couldn’t do anything because it would link back to harry. they could try and sue, but that would again bring negative press to harry, but the only important reason to harry, was that y/n didn’t want to get out back in the mindset again.

harry had also taken protecting y/n to the next level ever since that night. they had a body guard ready to protect her from paparazzi if they were going anywhere for business, and harry would personally make sure wherever they were going would accommodate to the privacy he demanded for her.

there had been a total of five paparazzi photos of them seen together since their second date. everything else y/n personally selected, edited, and curated what harry’s fans got. y/n loved harry’s fans, and when they called harry dad, she felt like their mom. the fans didn’t know much about the couples personal lives, but they knew y/n struggled with mental health problems after she went onto gemma’s podcast and spoke about them. fans were made aware that if y/n started to get nervous or anxious harry would cut the interaction short to be there for her, and for the most part thar was accepted. making the couple comfortable to go out in public together.

harry loved to spoil y/n, it was his favorite thing to spend money on. seeing her happy, made him happy, even if she’d feel bad in the first few stores only to settle into the luxury harry provided for her by the third shop.

“thank you for all this h, you didn’t have to.” y/n smiled as harry took her bags and opened the door to leave prada. “no need to thank me darling.” he kissed her forehead as she walked past and she blushed wildly. paris was one of his favorite places to be —his favorite being italy of course— but paris made better intimacy garments and harry would drop everything just to fly to paris for them if y/n was in the mood.

“why don’t we make a stop at your favorite?” y/n smirked over her shoulder. she had grown so comfortable and confident with her body sense her and harry had been married. she liked being naked in front of him, he worshiped her like someone would a god, and took the best care of her. how could he not? she was perfect to him.

“whatever you want my love.” harry suppressed his grin and attempted to hide his boner with a blue tiffany bag. harry’s large hand found a comfortable spot on the small of her back as they glided along the streets of paris, just as they rounded the corner onto the street where harry’s holy grail was, harry felt that tension and unease he hadn’t felt in years.

“y/n?” he froze as she did, she swallowed and felt her eyes well as she began to shake. harry saw two teenage girls a few feet down do a double take. “their just fans love-.” harry said, she shook her head and didn’t look at them, instead she hastily pulled harry into a small boutique and they b lined it for the bathroom. she slammed the door behind harry and sank down to her butt as she curled up and began shaking violently. harry dropped the bags.

“baby honey i need you to breathe okay?” harry gently reached out to touch her like all the times before, only for her to recoil away from his touch. “n-no.” she faintly said, harry felt a sting to his heart only for it to drop. she usually longed for his touch when she felt anxious, the only times she didn’t was when something reminded her of him.

“what’s happening love? need you to tell me what set it off.” harry spoke very gently. “your safe. i don’t want to hurt you. i love you. will never touch you if you don’t want it.” harry repeated his words over and over till her breath stilled. “i saw him.” she whispered quietly.

“what?” harry asked dumbly. “i saw him… out on the streets.. he had- he had a girl..” harry didn’t want to imagine what that poor girl must be going through, and he felt his eyes well as y/n worried for her as well. “what if he tries to-.” she shivered, harry shook his head with a soft ‘mnm’. “he’s not gonna hurt you, he won’t come near you. not when i’m around. do you want me to send reid to go check on the other girl?” harry mentioned the body guard who was surely pretending to browse the store. y/n shook her head, “don’t wanna scare her.. i didn’t trust men…” y/n spoke in broken sentences.

“brooklyn then?” harry asked, y/n nodded. “wanna stay here for a bit.” she sniffled, harry nodded. “i’ll text brooke right now and tell her there’s a girl who might be in a bad situation okay?” y/n wiped her eyes. “can i have a hug?” she asked, without hesitation harry did as he was asked. “i love you darling. thank you.” he thanked her for trusting him to touch her. “i love you to.” she sniffled and let harry hold her.

if you have any one shot requests please let me know

x

[nouearth]

a letter to spider-man.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: spider-man launched his own help line and you need his advice in talking to your crush: peter.

wc: 1.2k. genre: fluff, comfort!fic. warnings: holland!peter, social anxiety, mention of death, crushes, college!au. notes: i was re-reading perks of being a wallflower again, OOF. i kinda want to make this a series, so please tell me if you'd like to see it become one!

peter wasn’t sure what made him decide to do this: a spider-man help line. one day, he woke up and wanted to fulfill a sense of purpose more than he already has—to help out the public more, to build a community that peter has been wanting to fix since the death of his aunt.

so far, they’ve been pretty simple tasks: walking the dogs, helping a blind woman with grocery shopping, fixing a broken pipe with his webs—it was all out of the kindness of his own big heart. a heart that his aunt once nurtured.

it was hard at first. from being a ‘save the world’ hero to a ‘save the dog from burning up in a locked car’ hero, it was a downgrade one might find—peter did at first. 

but it’s been a while since he saw the relieved smiles on the public’s faces whenever he swung from the corner. true happiness that he was envious of at times, but nonetheless grateful for, and so that would become his motivation. 

maybe it can make the world a better place if people happen to be inspired by his actions. small stuff that regular civilians can achieve. a domino effect that peter hoped for.

—april 10th

dear spider-man, so, this is a thing now, huh? the future is so unpredictable, so i actually never thought i’d be writing to you. well, i guess the future would be me texting you like you advertised, but i like writing. it makes my hand cramp, and my handwriting is terrible (sorry, i hope you can still read this), but it feels good. like... shouting at the sky, i would imagine, so i prefer it. i’ve also been watching a lot of ‘80s and ‘90s movies, which could also be a major factor.  and i just realized i’m supposed to tell you about my problems! this is kinda hilarious because i think i’ve probably rewritten my letter six times already.  also, are you living your citizen life as a therapist or something? because why else would you be helping people this way? not that we don’t appreciate it, but it’s different. you’ve probably stopped reading by now, but in case you haven’t, i’ll keep the rest short. i guess my problem is… i like this guy. i know you’re not a relationship therapist (your secret is safe with me if you are though), but i figured a guy like you knew how to talk to people? you save people on a daily basis, so you probably aren’t scared anymore, right? that theory worked better in my head, to be honest, so scratch that! anyway, his name is peter. we’re both freshmen in college, so we’ve been seeing each other a lot, especially since we’re in the same classes. did i mention that i’m a guy as well? i don’t know him that well. i’m pretty quiet, i guess. invisible, maybe? it’s funny. sometimes, my professors would forget that i was even in their classes until i would speak up. but besides that point, he probably doesn’t even know that i exist either.  the perks of being invisible—i’m not even sure if there are any, because i’m noticeable enough on days where people want to say stuff. mean, terrible stuff. i wonder if he notices me, though. probably not, but a guy could only hope. i think we’d get along. again, hope! he’s smart and humble, always insecure of his own answers even though he knows—everyone knows—that it’s correct. kind, too. also awkward, like me. but the cute-awkward, not the me-awkward. i like him. i want to be friends with him. maybe even more? but i’m not greedy! i can settle with being friends.  i guess, how can i approach him?

thank you, (m/n)

it caught peter off guard at first—seeing his name in the same vicinity as spider-man became a jump-scare. even though, the sender kept everything pretty vague to keep the named crush relatively anonymous, there was a gut feeling telling peter that it was him—the culprit of (m/n)’s stolen heart.

nah, there are so many peters..! just a coincidence.

it took him longer than he thought to come up with a sufficient reply. usually, a task would’ve been done because all he had to do was use his body, his webs to do good—not his words. inexperienced yet excited, peter smiled while writing his letter.

peter wasn’t great at consoling people. hell, he couldn’t even make himself feel better. but he’ll try, like he always does. 

—april 23rd

hi (m/n)! sorry for taking so long to get back to you! life’s been crazy with everything going on. did you know that there’s been at least ten deli robberies that i managed to save this week alone? something about that chicken salad sandwich drives people nuts… like you, peter’s actually been pretty swamped with exams and graduation. i also want to congratulate you for being the only one that has written a letter to me instead of using the chat service! i’ve never written a letter before, so excuse my rustiness. my handwriting is way worse than yours. mine looks like if you gave a dog a pen and made it write. freshman year of college is a big year for you, for everyone. i remember the feeling of feeling so lost!  still know the feeling.  don’t get me wrong. yes, i’ve become braver since i started this spider-man stuff. but i still get scared, you know? life is so unpredictable and you never know when something might go wrong, and unexpectedly go so right.  like, just the other day, i got anxious when i was ordering from a drive-thru! they didn’t hear me, so i had to repeat my order. then again, because the mic sucked or whatever! even though it was only me, i felt so embarrassed, like my cheeks swelling and itchy skin type of nervous. but then it quickly went away because… okay, well i got my burger and fries pretty quick, so that helped. but you know what i mean? there’s this potentially negative outcome that we’re so afraid of. when in reality, it’s only ever so fleeting. you said he’s a nice guy, right? he could also be scared to talk to you, and you would never know because you’re too busy knocking yourself down! everyone is awkward. I’m awkward. so are some of my family members, my friends too. and that feeling won’t ever go away. sometimes, it’s meant to be shared. being invisible isn’t so bad sometimes. i definitely know the feeling, even wished for it at times. you can listen to music without being bothered, that’s a bonus! but from what i’ve noticed from feeling invisible, it would always come when i was being unkind to myself. i had the worst perception of myself in the eyes of my peers, and that made me withdraw. i purposely isolated myself because i was being unkind. the way you view yourself reflects onto others. not all the time, sometimes people are genuinely just assholes. but from what you’ve been telling me about this peter guy, he seems pretty special. if you’re awkward, be awkward and laugh it off. there’s nothing more charming than being genuine, and being kind to yourself is part of that progress. I’m rooting for you (and peter)!

from your friendly neighbor, spidey.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[kingofbodyrolls]

Hello! 🌸

My name is Lissa and I’m a 93 liner. I have been writing for many years, but only recently got back to it. I only write for BTS, and please look at my masterlist for all my writings 🥰

I enjoy reading as much as I do writing, and I love spreading joy and happiness 💞

I’m also on ao3 → kingofbodyrolls.

Newest work (04/04/24) (dd/mm/yy)  → My Heart's Home chp 10 [pjm]

Please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. doing so will be considered as plagiarism and appropriate action will be taken. 

You are more than welcome to reblog, like and comment my work 🥰

Genre + emoji meaning/key: Angst = 🌩️ || Smut = 🥵 || Fluff = 🥰 || Comedy = 😂 || Yandere = 😈 || Thriller/dark = 👻 || Personal favorite = 💯 || Completed = ✅ || Ongoing/writing = ✍️

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→ Series masterlist

... yet to come!

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→ Learn to Love Again

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→  Series masterlist

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→  Stuck at a Christmas party (part of 'the winter collection')

My Heart's Home [series ✍️💯] TBA - 🌩️🥵🥰😂 You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite?

→  Series masterlist (ft. Jungkook)

Skinny-dipping [drabble ✅] 1.7K - 🥵🥰

→ Skinny-dipping

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→  Say that Again (I Dare You) (ft. Jimin)

Say I Do [one-shot ✅] 5.2K - 🥵 You and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.

→  Say I Do

[sseniita]

hero vs domesticity

(in which hero quits and villain takes them in)

“Are you sure?” 

“What do you mean, am I sure?” 

The villain leaned against the brick wall, twiddling his thumbs as he imagined the hero as a civilian. Her shiny, loud, and awfully tight outfit blurred his vision of her in jeans and a t-shirt. “I mean,” he shrugged, “What’ll you do?” 

The hero, hands on her hips and oddly calm about quitting heroism, considered this. 

“I don’t know. I’ll probably start off quietly, adjust. Then I’ll get a job to pay for a house. Maybe get a dog.” 

“Do you have any savings?” asked the Villain, lifting himself from the wall to get a better look at the hero. “A place to stay? A job set up?” 

Hero scoffed, “It can’t be that hard!” 

The villain laughed at this. She had no idea. The villain supposed that the hero would never quit, perhaps one day they’ll just lose popularity like the rest before her did. He never considered what happened to other heroes either. “It definitely is. Perhaps even harder.” 

The villain pitied the hero when her spirits were crushed. Her shoulders drooped and the world famous grin was quickly replaced by an exaggerated pout. Something in him knew this was her way of asking- no- fishing for help or any sort of comfort. They had gotten closer over the many years fighting each other and many times were each other's only shoulder to lean (albeit awkwardly) on. But never in a million years did the villain ever think they’d be the first to know if the hero quit. After a few doe-eyed side glances at the villain he finally caved, sighing dejectedly, cursing her honey brown eyes.

“Would you like to stay in my guestroom-” 

“Oh really?” she practically sang. 

“-until you get on your feet?” 

“Yes, yes! Oh, you’re a lifesaver!” 

“I’m literally not.” 

The trip to get the hero's few belongings was quick, the trip to the drugstore for basic necessities took longer. The villain insisted on replacing her Hero Corporation issued… everything, opting to get the hero new toiletries, towels, blankets, pillows and quick bite to eat before heading back to villain’s place. During the car ride, the hero had asked many questions about how to get into a normal life, many of which were almost impossible for the villain to answer, dealing much damage to his ego. 

“Well- normal people don’t usually have to ask how to be normal. Most normal people don’t have to pretend to be normal. In fact- that might be an indicator that they’re not normal.” The villain relied on confusing others on the very odd occasion he didn’t know the answer. 

“Oh. ok. I get it.” The hero said unconfidently. “How do you start not pretending to be normal then?”

“Great question…” The hero waited for an answer while staring intently. “Do you have any hobbies…?” he said, rather timidly. 

“Hobbies? Um, well. I like to work out!” 

“Doesn’t count. Something unrelated to heroism.” 

“How do you know I don’t do it for fun?”

“Mhm. Sure.” The villain muttered, turning into a street with pleasantly colored row houses adorned with Christmas lights. The hero could see downtown was still very close but the adorable homes were nestled between trees and lined a thin road making it feel safe, cozy and like a home. Because it was dark, the hero could see into the large windows of the houses illuminated by yellow lighted lamps, enclosed in picket fences. Happy families getting dinner ready, some relaxing watching tv, others were out walking dogs with warm drinks in hands, they all had one thing in common, and it was the one thing that made the hero quit. 

The villain turned into the stone paved driveway of an old and blue three story house. His christmas lights weren’t hung up yet and his path to the front door was unshoveled, he turned to hero and sarcastically uttered, “Not the castle you were hoping for?” 

The hero could only grin. “It’s adorable.” Before the hero fell into the knee deep snow, the villain offered to shovel a path. The hero watched gleefully from inside the warm car until finally the passenger door was opened. “Done. Now let’s get in- it’s freezing out here.” 

The interior of the house was even more pleasantly decorated. The Hero didn’t know the exact name of the style but it involved gold accents, warm lights, wallpaper, and dark hardwood floors. The couches were fluffy with pillows coordinated in colors of beige and sage, the fireplace had dark bricks that were seemingly very old and very much the original ones. Art pieces and plants littered the walls and floors respectively and the warm colors from the walls spread like the fire the villain had just started. The hero followed the villain like a duckling to the third floor, passing the villain's room, office and second bathroom as he hurried around making preparations for the hero's stay. 

“This is your room, it has its own bathroom and fireplace so obviously, feel free to use those. I only have one tv on the first floor, I don’t really use it, so again, feel free.” The hero never had their own room or bathroom. Always sharing with teammates in rather ugly, white walled boxes, half full with the squeaky metal bunkbeds. This room was more than an upgrade. A comfy bed hero couldn't wait to get into, a nice view of the sparkling lights of the skyscrapers in the near distance, classy decor and two lamps on two nightstands on either side of the bed. The carpet was fuzzy and bathroom was clean and hero was in heaven.

The villain could only stare in amazement of how well she fit in the house. Resembling a character in one of his many framed pieces. He cursed whoever made her be born with superpowers instead of two loving parents. To snap the hero out of it he pointed towards a door across the hallway from the hero's room. 

“Library. It's small but it’s got a few good ones. Maybe you can make that your new hobby.” He opened the door, letting the hero in to explore the floor to ceiling bookshelves. There was an armchair in the corner with a end table harboring a few old and dirty mugs. The villain seemed to try to cover it with his body so the hero pretended she didn’t notice. 

The villain’s home was everything she thought it wasn’t. Cozy, homey, safe and definitely not hiding a super evil lair. She quickly realized she hit the jackpot of situations in which to start a new life. Although she had tried to stay calm, her body hadn’t stopped shaking since she decided to quit this morning. It all happened so fast and when she made the decision it was clearest she had ever seen. She knew repercussions would arise later, but luckily the villain was here now. Just like he always had been. She could feel herself turning red at the final realization that she would be roommates with her very handsome and evil nemesis. 

“You good?” the hero stumbled, not noticing the villain's stare.

“Ya! Ya… I just…” she faltered, fidgeting with her sweater. One that the villain thought looked far better than the spandex suit she wore constantly, of course, it did have the Hero Corporation logo but the villain just kept it in mind to buy the hero new clothes. 

“I really don’t want to mess this up.” she admitted. The villain tilted his head, teasingly. A familiar mischievous smile reappeared on his face. 

"For starters, you can get a hobby. A very 'totally normal person' thing to have.” He randomly picked a book from his collection and handed it over to the hero, before quickly regretting it when he realized it was a copy of a particularly incriminating book on advanced security systems. Before the hero could lecture him, he yanked it away back to its place. 

“How about cooking?”

part 2

[thetriplets3]

15 with matt?

- 🫧

ahh my first emoji anon hi make yourself at home 🏡

☼ beautiful boy ☼

trope: idiots to lovers

Affection isn’t foreign to us. We’re all affectionate people, we’re constantly close to one another, it's just normal for us. Lately, my affection towards and from you feels different than it does with your brothers. Not in a bad way, I can’t explain it, it just feels different.

A simple hand on the shoulder, head against the shoulder, brush against the back, arm draped over the shoulder feels more meaningful when it’s from you. I unconsciously gravitate towards you, being around you brings me such comfort and peace. You’re the first face I look for in any room, the one I want to be there with me when things get hard, the one who is always down for an aimless car ride at odd hours of the night. You’re the first person that comes to my mind, no matter what.

No one was in the mood to do anything or go anywhere so we all agreed on a movie night. Our attention was divided, the movie was more so background noise as we all hung out and messed around on our phones. Nick and Chris are on one side of the couch taking turns showing each other funny tik toks. I was on the other end of the couch, half laying half sitting, mindlessly scrolling through my phone. Looking up from my phone I’m met with your smiling face as you point a drink in my direction, I can’t help but smile back because you brought me one knowing I’d want one soon enough. Gratefully accepting the drink, you place yours on the table and point at the cushion next to me, silently asking if you could sit there. Nodding as I crack open my drink I’m quickly met with your head sideways on my lap as you face the TV. Instinctively, my arm goes to rest on your shoulder. Your left hand makes quick work finding mine, like muscle memory.

I drift in and out of consciousness, clearly long enough for Nick and Chris to finish the movie and retreat to their rooms. Sensing a change in my breathing, you turn your body to face towards me.

“Good to see you enjoyed the movie” you chuckle, knowing I always fall asleep during movies.

“I very much enjoyed it, definitely a top favorite” I joke back.

A comforting silence falls over the dimly lit living room, beautifully illuminating your features. I watch as your eyes dance across my face analyzing every inch of my face, my eyes mirroring your actions. My hand goes to your hair gently brushing it out of your face and raking my hand through your beautiful brown locks. My eyes land on every small feature of yours taking in and remembering their beauty.

Your crystal blue eyes that I could get lost in forever, the lines under your eyes from your messed up sleep schedule, the small scar that graces your face from when Nick burnt you, how pronounced your cheekbones and jaw are, the gentle slope of your nose, and that smile. The smile that makes me feel like everything will be alright, the smile that makes me smile even on my worst days, the smile that belongs to you. You have me entranced.

Your eyes gently close as my fingers work their way across your scalp, relaxing you. “I love moments like this, just you and I, I wish we got to do this more. This makes me happy” you softly whisper.

“I love this too. It brings me peace” I say as a silence falls upon us.

I continue circling my fingers on your scalp massaging it as the other hand brushes the stray hairs from your forehead.

“You’re beautiful Matt” slips off my tongue.

“You’re saying nonsense,” you mutter.

“No I’m serious you are. You’ve got the most beautiful features, the most beautiful personality, the most beautiful smile that makes my heart do backflips, and you have a beautiful soul. There’s something just so comforting about you, you make me feel safe, I see you and I see my home. That’s special, not a lot of people can do that. You’re a beautiful boy, inside and out, anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. I know I am. I love you Matt” I ramble, in awe of you, slightly embarrassed.

“You must’ve read my mind because I was gonna say something similar. I see how you are with Nick and Chris and it’s different than it is with me. I love having you in my arms and close to me, it just feels right. I’m so glad you’re in my life and I hope you’re in it forever. I love you I mean it” you say.

You grab my hand from your head and place a sweet kiss on it. “We should probably go to bed huh?”

I’m barely on my feet for 2 seconds before I’m being thrown over your shoulder and carried to your room, giggling and patting your back along the way. Reaching your bed you plop me on to your soft sheets before making your way to lie next to me. Your hand comes up to my hair to brush the loose hairs away from my face before resting it on my cheek.

“For the longest time now affection with your brothers has felt different than it does with you and I think I know why now. I always hoped your touches meant something else. I uh, I really like you Matt”

“Looks like both of us felt that way then. I really like you too” you say as your eyes dance between mine and my lips, silently asking permission to kiss me.

With a slight nod, sparks fly. “I love you beautiful boy”

Taglist:

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0 @im-a-matt-girl @iluvmatt @stxrniqlo @antisocialties

[kittensyoonie]

TXT X Male Reader

After noticing his makeup artist was dealing with a bad depressive episode, Taehyun decides to step in. He didn’t mean to accidentally confess in the process, but he wasn’t complaining.

Kang Taehyun X Male Reader (no agab mentioned)

Requested: no

Warnings: I’m still learning the members individual personality so if I messed him up I’m sorry—, depressive episode, reader is just going through life, confessing, getting together

Y/n wasn’t usually a very outgoing bubbly person. Taehyun wouldn’t describe him as a ball of sunshine. But he had a warm comforting smile, kind tone, and always seemed happy. Especially when at work. He’d always talk to someone. Whether it was other staff or the boys themselves. And his laugh.

Taehyun didn’t fully realize how precious that laugh was until a few months prior y/n came in, not laughing or really talking to anyone. That’s when he overheard one of the other staff members, one of y/ns friends, talking about the fact he has depression, and was having a nasty episode that day.

After that he subconsciously paid more attention to y/n, to that laugh and smile. He’d encourage him to interact with his band mates just to see him brighten, and even make jokes.

He was aware he was falling for the boy day by day, but he also knew there was nothing he could do about it. And as hard as the situation was, being an idol, being gay, he couldn’t complain. Y/n was perfect to him.

So when y/n came in, eyes in a different dark world, lips turned downwards, looking like he had to force himself out of his bed, of course he was worried. And his concern grew more and more when he barely reacted to the boys playing around, and barely talked to anyone.

So during a break for filming, he pulled y/n aside when he had to fix up his makeup. Y/n thought nothing of it, figuring Taehyun just wanted to be alone while his makeup was being fixed.

“Do you need to talk about it?” Taehyun asked, automatically gaining y/ns attention. “I know you aren’t okay today.”

Y/n gave him a sad smile, fixing up his lips. “There’s nothing particular going on. I just— I don’t know, I woke up this morning and felt like the moon as placed on my chest. Everything hurts more than usual and I feel like I can’t do it. I know I can, but god… it feels like at any moment I’ll collapse.”

Taehyun looked him in the eyes the entire time, listening intently. His heart ached hearing his words, he just wanted to protect him. “How long does stuff like this last?”

“A day or so if I get control over it. Sometimes it can last a week though. For this, I really hope it’s just today.” Y/n responded, putting his brush away. “Thank you for listening…”

“I’m always here to listen,” taehyun quickly jumped in, gently grabbing y/ns wrist. “You won’t ever have to be alone here, especially with me.”

Y/ns eyebrows furrowed as he looked over to the idol, his heart pounding. The tip of his ears turning red too from the physical contact.

“And why is that?” He asked slightly breathlessly. He couldn’t fathom why Taehyun would go out of his way for him.

“Because, you’re important to me y/n.” Taehyun responded, stepping closer. “And I want you to be okay.”

Y/n stammered, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. Just as he was about to say something, the director called Taehyun back over. He felt the idols hand slip down to his, giving it a squeeze before walking off.

For the rest of the shoot, Taehyun noticed y/n smiling a bit more, his featured softened. He couldn’t help his own mood from cheering up as well. As long as y/n was okay.

He decided to stay behind to help the staff pack up along with Soobin. The other boys had decided to go home, getting their very much needed rest. Taehyun of course gravitated to y/n and his work station. Everyone in the room was gone by the time he actually helped y/n, Soobin helping them load things in the car. They were in a safe location away from fans, so there was no concern letting him help.

“What did you mean, especially for me?” Y/n asked when they were pretty much done, not looking at Taehyun. “And that I’m important to you.”

“It’s exactly as it sounds y/n. You’re important to me, so you’re especially safe with me. And you’re important to me because I like you.” Taehyun admitted, stopping what he was doing. “I’m not afraid to say it. You make me very happy y/n, I want to make sure you’re happy too.”

Y/ns head perked up and looked at Taehyun with wide eyes. “Y- you-“ y/n knew his own sexuality wasn’t a secret, but he forbade himself for even guessing if the boys could be the same. He pushed away his own developing feelings out of fear it would never go anywhere, or worse, get him fired. “You actually like me? Romantically?”

Taehyun smiled to himself and nodded, moving closer to y/n. “I overheard your friends talking about your depression, and after that I made it my mission to make sure you’d be okay. I didn’t want work to make it harder on you, I already liked you and no one deserves that. But by putting extra attention into you, I found myself falling for you.”

Y/ns cheeks turned more and more red with every sentence. He couldn’t believe it. It took him all his courage to look at Taehyun and not melt away. He placed his hand on Taehyuns chest, looking away from his gaze.

Taehyun smiled, placing one hand over y/ns as the other cupped his cheek. When he didn’t pull away, he leaned in, kissing his forehead. When he felt y/n lean into the kiss, he kissed down to his nose, before placing a soft yet passionate kiss to his lips.

Y/n returned the kiss before pulling away, his cheeks a deep red. “N- no more kisses until you take me on a proper date Kang Taehyun.”

Taehyun chuckled, squeezing his hand. “See you tomorrow after work then.”

[jaketsparrow]

Tending Part 5!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 11.1K

A/N: Sorry I just had to tease you guys today and make you wait :) Again, I’m so very sorry this took a while, I just had a lot going on! I hope you enjoy the chaos of this chapter, my mind reallyyyy just went wild. 

Another special shout out to @gvfpal for being amazing and getting the first dibs on this piece! Thanks for always listening to my crazy ideas :) 

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), unprotected sex (Don’t do this!), angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, impact play, etc, it’s filth. 

Masterpost

Driving lately has become a weird buffer zone in your life. Every time you get into the car your thoughts just start running. It feels like stepping out of your life momentarily; like you are closed off from your own world. It was like being in your own TV show and watching the recap of the last episode. It’s safe, isolating, and a place to let your thoughts just go. 

As usual, your thoughts go to Jake. He has consumed your entire mind. You were once happy being alone; in fact, you preferred it. Every man you’ve dated in the past year or so hasn’t been someone to take home to the family. Honestly, neither was Jake yet, but there was something different about him. Jake was different than any man you had been with, you felt like he did care for you, but he just didn’t know how. It was like he was a confused little kid who didn’t know whether to kick his mom or hug her when she came home from a long day away. 

You’ve never found yourself weak or needing a man, but Jesus fucking Christ, you needed Jake. Every time you’re in his presence you can’t help but feel your heart rate rise, feel the need growing between your legs… He just had this majestic siren song that you keep falling for. You’ve accepted at this point that Jake was right, he will never be the perfect boyfriend, let alone the perfect man. He was protective of you and did care for you, but he would never let you know that without a fight. 

“Pants off, now.” He commands. 

Oh.

Did he really just?... 

He’s standing over you with this stupid judging face. You don’t want to obey him, but your body is telling you other things. Your heartbeat has traveled from your chest down between your legs, pulsing at the thought of fucking him again. You feel frozen in this state of complete lust. Last night’s extravagance deprived you of his cock, and now… that’s all you want.

Clearly annoyed by your hesitation, Jake scoffs and reaches down to your waist. He wraps his arms around your midsection and lifts you over his shoulder. Your core cuts into his shoulders as he hoists you over him. You feel like a ragdoll trying to manipulate your way out of his grasp.

“Jake!” You whimper, trying to wiggle yourself into a more comfortable position.

“You really ought to learn to fucking listen to me.” His open palm meets your clothed ass, providing a cushioned, but still stinging smack. You yelp, quite loudly, surprised by his actions. He turns his head to look at your defeating position, “You’re in big fucking trouble now.” 

There he was. The Jake you have been craving. The Jake that surprised you your first night together. The Jake who you always secretly wanted, but were also a little scared of. This version of him was almost completely heartless, using you as he pleased. You become his plaything when this persona switches on. And you enjoy every minute of it. 

He loops his fingers underneath the waistband of your sweats and yanks them off in one vigorous pull. Your ass is now on full display. You reach below his shirt and rake your nails across his lower back, trying any means to rile him up further. 

Jake winces through gritted teeth, “You’re such a fucking whore.” 

“And you fucking love it,” You cry.

Another open-handed smack breaches your ass; another yelp fires out of you. This one is sure to leave a mark. 

“You’re gonna wish you were good.” 

He starts his walk to the bedroom, and you continue to try to wiggle free of him. His grip is firm on you and the position he’s burdened you with provides no leverage to win. Although you really don’t want to be set free, it’s more fun not to completely comply with 

his whims. 

He approaches the bed and throws you down with a brute but controlled force. Your head falls back into the mattress you neatly made not that long ago. You reach your hands out to brace yourself from breaking. The fabric bunching up in your fists. 

“Hey! I just made this!” You chime.

Speaking at that moment was something you instantly regretted. 

Jake is standing over you, breathing hot and heavy. The tension in the air is thick and you know what you have gotten yourself into now. His demeanor is fierce, brow furrowed and eyes glaring through you. His hands are balled up by his sides and you can see the rigidity in his body. Behind his eyes, his brain is wracking through plans of what to do with you, his disobedient girl. 

You slide your legs up and down the mattress, nervous and excited about what he is thinking of. You run your hands down your stomach, trying to entice him to do something, do anything to you. Anything he wanted. You slowly part your legs, presenting yourself to him. 

“No. You don’t deserve that.” He barks, “If you think any of this will be for your pleasure… You’re delusional.”

“...Jake.” You beg. 

He reaches down towards your head, sending his fingers through your scalp and to the back of your neck, whipping you up, tugging his fingers on your hair. He leans closer to your face, still hovering over you. 

“Not.” A harsh pull at the back of your head puts you eye to eye with his looming presence. “My,” Another wincing pull tearing at your scalp, “fucking name.”

Jake holds you in his grip, dominating you completely. You feel defenseless, like an injured bird, waiting for him to care for you, but he doesn’t. 

“Please! Please, sir!” You beg. 

He releases you from his grip and your neck snaps back up to its rightful place. 

“Color.” He demands. 

You look up to him, eyes fierce and ready. “Green.”

Jake grabs your jaw, resting his grip along the bone, “You are mine right now. I didn’t give everything up for you to be flirting with my fucking twin. Do you understand me?”

You nod your head vigorously, feeling the shame settling in you. Who knew you could feel ashamed and horny all at the same time. 

“Words.” He orders.

You swallow any shame and try your best to put it aside; it wouldn’t help you now.

 “Yes, sir.” You mewl.

His hands move to the side of your neck, holding your jaw firmly with his thumb. 

“You know what you should be doing right now.” 

He guides your eyes down to look at the growing bulge in his pants. He seems harder than ever before, completely drunk on his own control. You look up at him through heavy eyes, scared. You’ve been here before. You need to please him again. 

Jake releases his hand from your jaw and moves it to run his fingers through the top of your head, coaxing you to get started. Gently placing your hand on his cock, you try to gently stroke him through his clothes. 

He fists your hair into his fingers, “No, no teasing. You don’t get to do that right now.” 

There would be absolutely no option for control for you. No teasing, any brattiness would come with a consequence. Jake steps back and leaves a bare spot on the carpet in between you two. His hand pushes you forward, launching your feet onto the rug, and then onto your knees. He releases his hand from your scalp and starts unzipping his pants. 

You are completely silent; compliant with his wishes. Waiting for his instructions. Your head rises to watch his cock slide out from his boxer briefs. It was daunting to see him like this, completely full, swollen even, bigger than you ever thought he was before. His right-hand grips around the solid skin, slowly stroking. His other hand reaches out to grab your cheeks, holding your mouth open in an ‘o’ shape. 

Your eyes graze up his body to meet his eyes. The chocolate brown irises are almost unrecognizable in this position. His dominating stature shines over you, completely taking over you. You can feel your excitement growing beneath you, but there is nothing you can do about that. The warmth that was blossoming between your legs would be shut until your turn if you were even allowed one. 

He loosens his grip around your jaw, resting his hand under your chin. 

His velvety tone sweeps into the air, relinquishing any uncertainty you had, “If you need me to stop,” Three taps of his fingers rap gently across your jaw, “Just do that, okay? Tap three times.”

“I won’t need to stop.”

A complete surge of neediness consumes you. You need him, you need to make him feel special, to remind him that you were going to be the woman he would never forget. You take your hands from your lap and fly them to his body. One hand grips into his thigh and the other takes its position around the base of his shaft. You nearly knock him over in the act, sending him into pure bliss. Almost taking him out of his command, shocking him with your ability to be the whore he wanted you to be. 

“Fuck…” He cries. “My fucking little slut couldn’t even wait-”

You slide your mouth as far as you can down his shaft, gagging yourself on all of him. His body shudders below your hand and you feel proud of your ability to melt him as much as he does to you. 

It doesn’t take too many wet strokes for him to finally gather himself back. His hand reoccupies the back of your head, trying to chase that same feeling again. Your mouth is shoved with as much of him as you can take, almost too much to handle. It’s worth the praise, you tell yourself. Take all of him now, and get all the rewards you can. 

“You’re taking me so well.” He says in gravely tones. 

You truly weren’t, you were choking him down, barely hanging on. Tears streaming down your eyes. You try to shoot your best doe eyes up at him, begging for him to have enough. You were reaching your limit, pushing yourself to a new maximum. 

Your head kept bobbing rhythmically against him, trying to hold him deep in your throat. You were doing things you didn’t even know your body was capable of. 

“My best little whore looks so good down there, sucking my cock.”

A swift and hard push of the back of your head launches you as far as you can take Jake, knocking your nose into his lower stomach. 

Three taps.

Fuck. You did need to stop. 

Jake slides out of your mouth as you cough heavily, gasping for air. You collapse your head, trying to stabilize yourself. Deep breaths. 

Jake tucks himself back into his pants and tries to assess the situation. He bends down to you, bringing his face down to yours; sweeping the hair out of your face. The switch was flipped, he was going into protective mode. 

“Sunshine.” He whimpers. You try to hold back your coughs and lift your head to his. He pushes the last strand of hair out of your eyes, “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, holding your breath in fear that more wheezes are going to escape. One deep breath through your nose clears the burning tickle in your throat. 

“Yes, I’m okay. Keep going.” 

His face lights up with your permission. The classic Jake smirk runs across his lips, almost a full smile revealing his excitement. 

“Good girl.” 

The words melt you. Any bit of praise was going to keep you going; it was going to make you need him more. 

He lifts you slowly back onto the bed, trying his best to be gentle only for this moment. He sprawls you out onto your back and sits next to you. 

The slowdown of all the action, the passion, is getting to you. He’s treating you like a weak girl, but you weren’t. He just took you by surprise. You wouldn’t let that one moment take away the Jake you had been craving. 

“C’mon, are you going to fuck me?” The words sputter out of you, only half confident, but still ringing strong through the air. 

Jake snaps his neck to scowl at you. There it was. 

His arm travels to your neck, holding you in place, once again choking for air, “What if I’ve had enough of you today? What then?” 

What if? Would he still be here if he did?

“You fucking want it and you know it… You’ve been thinking of it since last night. Seeing my cunt all soaked and not getting to feel it for yourself.” 

Who the fuck just said that? A month ago those words wouldn’t have even been something you would be comfortable thinking, let alone saying out loud. 

Your vile words shock Jake as well; you can feel the grip on your neck waiver a moment as he processes. And then. Well.

“You think you fucking know it all? My little slut thinks she knows me better, huh? I think it’s you that’s been craving my cock. You could barely wait your turn to fucking choke on it. You’re dying for me to fuck you. You’ve been naughty, trying to get me to take you. Being a little whore in front of me. Now you can wait.”

Jake stands up, and for a moment you’re actually worried he’s about to walk out of the room. Instead, he reaches for your left ankle and yanks it to the corner of the bed, the sheets sliding you across the mattress. 

“Shirt off.” He orders, and you comply instantly. 

He rounds the edge of the bed and grabs your wrist next, pulling it up by the pillow you slept on last night. With his other hand, he reaches deep into the side of the mattress between the bed frame and pulls out a restraint. It’s a soft cuff with velcro to hold it together. He holds it out for you so you can see. 

“Green?” He asks, eager for your answer.

“Fucking yes.”

A rip of velcro and then the cuff is wrapped around your wrist. You softly tug at the restraint, noticing it wasn’t going to be easy to break out of it, but you guess that was the point. 

Two more rips and soon your ankles are loosely restrained to the corners of the frame. You have more movement with your legs than your hand, but still would not be able to break free of the cuffs. 

He walks around the bed to the other side, surveying your naked body. Taking in each inch with his gaze. He was going to be the predator, and you the helpless prey. 

One last rip of velcro and the other cuff wraps around your wrist. Once he’s satisfied with the cuffs, he walks over to stand directly in front of you, watching you test each limb for movement. 

“What if I just left you like this? Just stood here and watched you beg for my cock.” The words are cold and cruel. You can feel the fire, no, the need burning in you with the thought of not having him. 

“No! Please, please. I need you. I want you.” You beg mercilessly. 

“So much for all that back talk before, huh? ‘Please’” He mocks. “I’m not so convinced you’re ready to be good yet.”

The need is gathering through your stomach, down between your legs. There was no way to hide the slickness that was starting; he would be able to see all of you.  

“Please!” You gasp, “I can be good, I promise sir… Just please fuck me. Fuck me, Sir!”

“Hmmm…” He drops his hands down on the mattress, staring you down, watching you writhe through the desire. “You don’t deserve anything. Trying to make me upset, trying to tease me, such a fucking whore today.”

The words coming from him are completely a facade. He knows he wants this now. He’s in too deep. He loves to see you like this, completely helpless; completely his. You have more of a say in this than he wants you to know. But you know what to do. You know the games he likes to play. 

“Please, baby. I know. I was such a bad girl… I’m a dirty slut. I fucked up. You can be mad at me, please… please just take me, I want to make you happy.” 

He watches you for a brief moment, letting the pleads hang in the air. His eyes are lit with an insatiable lust. He wanted it. He wanted it bad. He may be able to mask it with his words, but his body tells a completely different story. He pushes himself off of the mattress and begins to undress himself. Teasing you with each reveal of his tanned skin. 

First his shirt. The edges of the fabric slowly climb their way up his gorgeous soft stomach. It was like a curtain lifting at the beginning of a show, each inch elevating your excitement for the first act. 

The silence was eating at you. What was he thinking? What was he going to do…

“Please, Please…” You implore. 

Next is his zipper, slowly sliding down to once again, reveal his bulging, practically jumping cock. The sight of it is sending you into a ferality. You pull against the restraints, trying to lift yourselves towards it. Paying no mind to the forces holding you back, you try to reach for him.  

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He growls, “So impatient.” 

Pleading moans erupt out of you. You feel like you’re being withheld from the thing you want most, well, because you are. You feel your core tightening. His sultry, teasing behavior is absolute torture. 

“I need you! I need it, please!” 

Slowly, the remainder of his clothes fall off of his body, revealing his perfect stature. His body looks like it’s carved with absolute perfection and care. Each edge is softly rounded, ready to be touched. 

He crawls across the bed, bringing his head close to your aching cunt. His breath permeates your skin. He reaches one finger up to your lower stomach, slowly dragging it from your navel to your clit. You’re whimpering with each movement he makes. 

“Is this...” He finally plants his finger firmly onto your bundle of nerves, shocking every muscle in your body, “What you want?” 

“Yes, yes, yes…” The words are echoing out of you, pressing for more. 

“You’ve been very good, surrendering to me. You know your a bad girl, right? That I’m being extremely forgiving for even taking you this far.” 

“Yes, sir…” 

His tongue crashes into you, at first wide and spreading you, then narrowing onto your needy clit. The first pass over you sends you into complete shock, you can’t do anything but feel. The restraints prevent you from being at all distracted by anything but his soft, precise movements. 

He builds his pace, tasting everything of you that he can. 

“Oh poor thing, you can’t even help it.” He teases, “You just have to take it all.” 

“I want it all…” It’s getting harder to even form sentences. All you can think about is his face on you, completely drenching you. His tongue exploring each fold, each sensitive spot. You feel the tightness, the excitement rushing through you. Your legs shaking, arms fighting against the restraints. Labored moans fighting their way out. 

“Oh, well that won’t do.” He stops everything, denying you the release you were feeling so close to, “I’m sorry sunshine, but this is for my pleasure. Remember?” 

You whine, exasperated cries spilling into the air. 

“Are you being ungrateful?” 

A flat-handed smack splays across your swollen cunt. You lift your neck to watch it all happen. The evil smirk splayed across Jake, the hand meeting your skin, the soft gasps escaping your lips. 

“Color?” He asks. 

You think for a moment, “Green.”

Another soft blow swats at you, absolutely wrecking your body. Each blow feels like a shock wave of filthy pleasure. 

“Fuck…” This moment felt so dirty. Felt so good. He always pushed you to new levels of pleasure. 

He wastes no time at this point. He can’t wait any further to feel you. He knows he can’t hold out on you any longer. 

Jake pushes himself up on the mattress and starts to slowly pump himself. A steady stream of spit falls from his lips onto his cock, lubricating himself. 

“Are you ready for this?” He asks, most likely not caring how ready you are, it just means he was ready. 

You nod your head, unable to even fathom the force he will bring to you. 

“Words.” He commands. 

You strain to focus yourself, “Please just fuck me.” 

He reaches over to the corners of the bed, releasing your ankles from the restraints, but leaving your hands in their disciplinary holds. 

He grabs your hips and lifts you to line up with him. His cock blows into you, straight to the hilt. You moan loudly, almost graphically. He squeezes his thumbs into your sides, stabilizing himself. Low grunts come through his gritted teeth.

He isn’t giving you any mercy, pounding himself into you. Each drill pushes further and further into you, breaking you in two. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” You groan. 

“Yeah? My little slut likes getting fucked like this?” He asks. 

“She’d like it a lot more if you were harder,” You reply through choked breaths. 

You don’t need to beg much for this. 

“That’s why you’re my fucking favorite.” 

Jake assumes his hand on your neck, gripping you tightly. You thought he was going hard before, but this was unreal. Each pump into you provided a harsh blow to your body. It was calculated, menacing, everything you fucking wanted. 

You feel him fill you entirely, your cunt consuming every inch of his unyielding cock. You feel yourself already losing control, building to climax. He feels so good, better than ever before. You both feel confident in each other, and you both know how to get each other to the highest high. 

“Oh, you think you deserve to come?” 

Fuck. 

“Please!” You beg. “Please sure, please.” 

He looks deeply into your desperate eyes. He can see the absolute terror of being denied. You feel like maybe he might give in, might let you get there. You know how close you are and you can feel him getting there too. You risk it all. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him into you, preventing him from escaping. 

“You fucking-” 

You both gasp in unison, reaching your orgasms just moments after the other. Jake lowers himself by your ear, uttering complete pornographic moans. It feels intimate to hear him like this, to hear how happy you’ve made him. 

Your body shudders underneath him, clenching around his softening body. Your restricting hold increases every tightening muscle in your core, lifting your back completely off of the mattress. Feelings of butterflies flurry through your body, starting from your satisfied cunt, down through your legs. 

You both mix within yourself, feeling your body flood with him. 

“You fucking slut.” He chokes out. 

You giggle in his ear, “Admit it, Jake, you fucking love it.” 

Instead of feeling excitement for your destination, you just feel uneasy. You could feel the sweat slickening the steering wheel the harder you gripped it. Deep down, there was a part of you that wished you didn’t agree to go see the band. 

The last time you interacted with Josh, it left Jake feeling jealous. He truly had no right to be jealous of you just making friends. But now, there was some lingering destructive intent. You wanted him to feel that way; as petty as that was of you. You were always the one chasing after Jake, begging him for attention, begging to be the only one. That morning with the twins was your opportunity to give him a taste of how it feels to be you. 

That point didn’t entirely come off to him, instead, the argument just led to more intense angry sex. That was always going to be the best way for you two to get in the mood. 

You hate knowing that Jake can get out of any argument by getting you fired up. At least you knew that all these arguments could in theory just be your foreplay, not ever real fights. It made you feel diminished, but then again, he would always find a way to make everything up to you by the end. 

Jake and his stupid, stupid apologies were going to kill you someday.

You both knew you had work that night, so Jake opted to drive you home so you could get ready. The morning and early afternoon flew by at his house. You were quite exhausted at that point and were ready to wash away the very sinful acts that still lingered on your skin. 

You didn’t have much time to prepare yourself for the shift and had to rush through your usual routine. Shower. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. Get out the door. The whole hour went by in a blur. 

And just as usual, you pull through the cavernous parking lot of fleets and find your always unoccupied spot in the back. You still manage to arrive before Jake, whose car was missing from the lot. You turn off the engine and head into the back door. The kitchen is busy, with loud clanging and shouts emerging from behind the hallway walls. 

You drop your bag and head out to the main floor. Chris is nowhere to be seen yet, and the only other employee you can see is… of course. Mariella. 

She’s wearing this shit-eating grin talking to the regulars. You feel a wave of disgust run over you and you have to try and control yourself from letting your emotions get the best of you. The last time you saw her she was trying to fuck up your relationship with Jake, and well… She succeeded. You can’t let her do that to you. You can’t let your jealousy burn through what you have with him. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Breathe through it, let it go, and kill that bitch with kindness. 

You walk to the bar and hop under the counter, joining her behind the bar. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge you as you clock in. It all feels so middle school. You pretend she doesn’t exist, and she’ll probably do the same. 

The dishwasher beeps and you run over to start emptying the glasses. She pops her head over to look at you briefly but turns back to continue flirting with the 40-year-old in front of her. 

You’re extremely annoyed, but continue to complete your chores; well technically hers. Where the fuck is Jake? And why the fuck is she still behind the bar? 

“Hey girl,” Hearing her voice is like the equivalent of drinking lemon juice. It’s bitter, soured, and ultimately- unpleasant. 

You don’t even bother to look back at her, instead zeroing in on the steamy glasses. 

“So,” She starts, “I hope I didn’t fuck things up with you and Jake.” 

You snap your head to look at her, trying your best to display how uncomfortable you are in her presence. 

She’s so fake. Of course, she hopes she fucked things up. She manipulated you with the perfect words to turn on Jake. You continue to pull the glasses out of the dishwasher, lining them up on the counter to be put away.

“No things are fine. We talked it out. He said he’s done with all the temporary girls.” You glare back at her. 

Being petty is fun. 

“Aw, well I’m so glad to hear it babes,” She rests her hand on your shoulder and breezes past you out from behind the bar. “Oh and don’t worry, I closed out all my tabs.” 

The rage is filling in you. You felt brave at this moment, ready to settle any sort of anger you felt with her. 

“Mariella.” She stops to turn, just a few feet away from the counter. You stride over to the corner of the bar, separating you two with the counter. “What you did…” Your voice and bravery is starting to trail off when the reality of the situation was setting in, “What you did was fucked up. You knew I liked him before you did anything with him. When I finally got my chance you chose to be a backstabber and try to kill my dream. That’s not what friends do.”

Her face hasn’t changed through any of your words. A scowl is burned across her brow, “Who said we were friends?” 

Her words take you back. You thought you had been friends. You had worked at Fleets together for over a year now and had spent many nights together drinking and complaining about the shithole bar. Now she was denying it all? 

No. You can’t let her keep getting to you. You can’t let her make you second guess yourself anymore. 

“No, you don’t get to do that to me anymore Mariella. You don’t get to make me feel like shit. So what you had Jake first? So what you don’t want to be my friend? I am not jealous of you anymore, and you can’t make me feel second class just because your tits are bigger and you can seduce any of these losers in this bar. I won. I get Jake.” 

Mariella bursts out laughing, almost in tears. “Whatever! You won! Great for you. Hope you enjoy it all. Good luck with that mess of a human! I hope you’re very happy together.” 

She continues laughing to herself as she walks into the back office. 

That wasn’t the satisfying ending you wanted. 

You pull into a spot in front of the venue. The parking lot was dimly lit and full of cars. People lingered in front of the door, chatting, sharing cigarettes, waiting for something exciting to happen. 

The band had already been here for an hour or so setting up; probably having some pre-show drinks to loosen up. Even though they don’t go on for another twenty or so minutes, you decide it is better to leave earlier than to just sit idly waiting in your apartment. But now that you were here, and were early, you don’t want to go in until it’s time for their set to start. 

You feel your heart climbing into your throat. You truly didn’t think you would still get anxious over these things, but after everything that’s happened this week, it feels like walking on glass. 

You press your hands into your face and try to regulate the fear permeating through you. You try your best to flush it away, remembering you’re only here to support the band. You can’t let Jake’s jealousy control you forever. Whatever happens, happens. 

Jake walks through the back and heads towards the bar. As soon as he sees you a huge smile appears on his face. Was he actually happy to see you, or was he just thinking about what you both did just hours before? Either way, you smile back. The cheerful appearance of him is making you blush. Everything starts to feel real like never before. 

The back office door opens again and you see Mariella waltz out to the back. Chris appears in the doorway, making direct eye contact with you. Shit. Did she just tattle on you for being mean to her? Why does every interaction with her feel like high school all over again? 

Chris brings his hand up to wave you towards him, one finger inching in his direction. An audible sigh escapes your lips. Jake jostles to the bar and hops over the counter with incredible agility. 

“What the fuck?” You ask, completely perplexed at his insane amount of energy. 

He laughs, knowing how strange his action must have been. He walks past you, quickly uttering, “You make me feel like a whole new man baby.”

You would be inclined to jump onto him and mount him right there if you knew your boss wasn’t also staring you down from the other room. You try your best to acknowledge Jake, while still slipping away. 

“Oh good, you needed a new personality,” You joke, slipping out from the bar, “One sec, I’ll be right back.” 

“Screw you!” He sarcastically jeers from the POS system. 

You awkwardly jog over to the office door, letting yourself in. Chris is already back in his seat at his corner desk. He looks defeated, and well, really annoyed. His hand is sprawled across the right side of his face, holding his shaking head. You close the door behind you, trying to make him aware of your presence. 

“Sit,” he barks, pointing at the spare dining room seat opposite to him. 

You gingerly sit down on the cold wooden chair and try to sit up straight, holding yourself as professionally as you can. 

“What the fuck is going on?” His words cut the air. 

What situation is he even talking about?

“With?” You ask, surveying for him to give you more. 

Chris sighs and leans back into his chair, resting his clasped hands over his beer belly, “Listen, you’ve always been a fine employee. You show up, you do what you need to, and you leave. But I don’t deal with fucking drama. I don’t deal with he said she said, she’s dating him, he’s into her, bullshit. That’s why I put the rules in place.”

Ohhh what the fuck? What the hell is he even talking about? Mariella totally fucking tattled on you- to your boss of all people! 

You angle yourself forward, your face painted with confusion, “Okay, first off, I don’t know what to say to any of that, second of all, what rule?” 

“The no dating other employees rule.” The what? Chris continues, “Jake knew about it... I had a conversation with him about it. And yet we still have bullshit! And I really don’t fucking want bullshit.”

“Hold on, hold on,” You brace your hands out, trying to slow Chris, “Why am I just hearing of this rule now?”

Chris drops his hands, “I dont know. I just… I thought you were a lesbian.”

Your face drops and utter shock goes through your body. “Chris-”

“What? You were always hanging around Mariella and never had a boyfriend and only flirted with the ladies.” He throws his hands up trying to save this conversation he has so clearly lost. 

“Chris… Just because I’m not trying to suck face with the forty-year-old alcoholics out there, does not mean I’m a fucking lesbian.” You bury your face in your hands, completely over this entire interaction, “You have to tell all the employees the rules. Even if I was gay, what if I dated one of the other girls here?” 

“Listen… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, okay? But bottom line, Jake knew.”

“Okay,” You trail off, “So…? Sounds like you’re getting at something else here Chris.”

Chris squares himself, leaning his hands into his thighs, “Well… Either you two,” he motions with hands a cut across his throat, “You know, end it. Or, one of you has to go. We’ve had struggles with this in the past. You both are great bartenders, but that can all change when you start getting into little spats and fighting in the bar.”

Little does he fucking know… 

“So, you want me to end my relationship, which I don’t even know if it is a real relationship or not-”

Chris moans, “God. I don’t care what it is-”

“Or you want me to quit?” The words feel sour and morose. 

Chris stands up, trying to get out of the unpleasant exchange. He walks over to rest his hand on your shoulder. A sad, looming expression dawns on him. 

“Doesn’t have to be you, kid.”

He goes to open the door, letting the light of the bar flood through the office. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes. A slight choke sits at the back of your throat. Everything that has to do with Jake and you always is a fucking disaster.

Why does everything have to be so hard? Why can’t you just have it easy? Why can’t Jake just be yours and you be his? What does everyone have against you two? Is this a bigger sign that maybe he just can’t be with you?...

“Chris,” You beg, “Can I just talk to him for a few minutes?”

He shakes his fist and tries his hardest to let go of any frustration, “Fine, but make it quick I hate that regular.”

And the same as he did with you, he waves Jake over to the office. Jake tilts his head like a sad puppy and quickly jogs out from behind the bartop. He strolls into the hallway, and Chris brushes past him to go take his place. 

The tears are still welling in your eyes and you can’t quite regulate your breathing. The frustration and anger you feel for Chris’ stupid policy is mixing with the dissatisfaction of Jake once again withholding information from you. 

“Sunshine?” He asks confused. 

You grab his hand and pry him into the office, closing the door behind him.

“Sit,” You plead. 

Now the roles were reversed. You try your best to compose yourself and consume all the sad emotions that were begging you to crawl out. 

Jake sits in the same chair as you did, “What?-”

“Jake.” Breathe. Don’t take it too far, “Did Chris inform you of a certain… No dating other employees rule?” 

He shifts awkwardly in the chair, obviously trying to avoid the interrogation, “Well, yeah, but-”

“Please… Please don’t say we’re not in one, because that will fucking kill me right now.” Your voice is breaking.

He sinks back into the chair. For the first time, he seems… hurt.

“I wasn’t going to-”

“Jake if you knew, why didn’t you tell me? Now I’ve got Chris telling me one of us has to quit or we… or we… you know…”

He runs his hand through his hair and turns to face you head-on. He reaches out for your hands, and you half haphazardly return them into his grasp. 

“I didn’t want you to not consider us an option. So I didn’t say anything.”

You take your hands back from him, quickly planting them on your hips, “So you think putting my job at risk is perfectly fine? All this behind my back shit is getting pretty old Jake, and we’ve barely even been at this a few weeks.” 

He drops his head, catching the crown of his hair in his fingertips, “What the hell did you want me to do?” 

You throw your hands in the air, fumbling to even find the right answer, “I don’t know Jake! But we could’ve tried to figure this out together before I was once again blindsided by something you hid from me! Because of your mistakes, Mariella came tattling to Chris-”

He lifts his head, staring you down. His eyes are sincere yet concerned. A look you’ve never seen from him, “She what?” 

“I told her to fuck off. I finally stood up for myself and she came in here to tattle.”

Jake closes his eyes and clenches his fists softly, “She’s not the kind you attack with words sunshine.”

You shake your head, not even believing that he’s telling you that you shouldn’t have stood up for yourself, “Jake that’s beside the fucking point. Because of you now I have to choose between walking away from my job or you.” 

“You’re not seriously going to choose are you?” 

“Doesn’t sound like I have a choice. I don’t want to. I want you, but I also need a fucking job. And right now you’ve pissed me off again.” 

“Again, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Do you wish I did nothing at all?”

“No,” You retort, quick to remind him you did want this. 

He rises to his feet, trying to establish some sort of control in the conversation, “Okay, so what then? You knew we were going to be all or nothing, or at least I did. I knew I had to have you, I didn’t think the rule was going to be held up.” 

“Jake.”

He rests his hands on your shoulders, “No, don’t fucking choose. What’s he going to do?”  

“Jake I’m pretty sure he’s going to fire one of us if we don’t pick. And we’re both on thin ice here so it will ultimately be whoever he likes more…” 

Jake shakes his head and drops his hands off of you, beginning to turn towards the door, “Can’t believe it. That you’re even considering it. After everything.” 

You grab his wrist, “After what Jake? After you finally decided you wanted to be with me? After I sat waiting months for you? After you fucked my friend? After you avoided this whole situation? After what?”

He snaps his wrist back to his side and reaches for the door handle. He shoots one last distraught glance back before heading back out into the hallway. 

It was about halfway through their set before Josh jumped off the stage to rush to you. He had been waiting for the right moment to run over to you all night. Shooting you happy glances, singing to you from the stage, and even ushering Jake over to the side you were sitting on so you could see him better. 

He waited until the worst possible moment to rush over to you, during one of Jake’s solos. 

He was worse than you when it came to pushing Jake. You could push him and get away with it, you knew it was all an act. But with Josh… He thought it was all a fun game, not realizing later that you would have to defend his actions like they were your own. 

Josh grabs your hand to lift you out of your seat, so eager to get you on your feet. The chair that you previously occupied clatters behind you. The crowd is completely distracted by Josh, and well, you. He swoops you close to him and soon your feet are moving along to the beat, jumping around with Josh in a flurry of happiness. 

Usually, you only had the enjoyment of watching live music, never participating in it. Here, you were now a part of this moment with them, and the one you wanted most to be happy for you, would clearly find this all too much. 

Josh grabs your hand and spins you around him, moving charismatically, so smoothly; quite romantically. If people were looking, they might think that Josh was the one you were with. Jake’s playing gets more technical with each moment, trying to win back the crowd’s attention, but everyone is watching his twin and you, swirling in a passionate dance on the bar floor. 

A smile is lit across your face; you’ve never had this much fun before, ever. There’s just enough whiskey in your system to completely evaporate any fear, or really notice the crowd cheering you on. You lower your hand across Josh’s waist, and he matches you, squeezing into your hip. You both circle each other, intoxicated in the glow of the moment. 

Jake’s solo slowly clamors to an end, and Josh realizes his cue to run back to the stage. He drops his hand from you and places a fragile kiss on your cheek before rushing back up to the mic. 

The crowd erupts in drunken cheers and you turn to notice the gathering they had made around the floor. They’re on their feet, clapping, enthusiastic about the thrilling moment. You awkwardly curtsey to the group and make your way back to your seat, picking it back up off the ground. 

The spirit of the moment quickly is burned when you look up and see Jake is not matching your excitement. A looming, angered glare is searing through any happiness you feel. He’s barely paying attention to the music, instead, steaming on the side of the stage. Gripping the guitar so tightly you fear it would break with any tighter hold. 

Shit. 

“Chris, can… I’m sorry can we just work this shift and figure it out tonight? I just want to do my job right now.”

Another classic Chris grunt and he waves you off, “Go. It’s gotta happen though. One of the choices.”

“Yes, yes I know,” You grovel, hoping that if you can’t come to a decision, he won’t be picking you to go. 

You rush back over to the bar and continue the chores you had left earlier. Of course, Chris didn’t bother picking up any slack, and neither did Jake. 

The thoughts are unraveling in your mind now. The control you had tried to exert is slowly withering away. Even though you had felt far more tough lately, you still couldn’t completely swallow the soft, emotional side of you. 

What the hell kind of choice is this? Lose your job or lose the boy you fought everything and everyone to have? Why does the universe fucking hate you?! 

Your body felt weighed, completely exhausted by all the drama and all the decisions. If you didn’t have responsibilities outside of this relationship, you would instantly pick Jake, but you can’t risk not having any income. You were a girl alone. No rich mommy or daddy to come to save you when you needed it most. You had given all of that up. No friends that could save you, they were miles away back home. You hate to admit it, but you were truly alone here. 

Sure, you had people, but no one that would be willing to take in a stray. Jake had his brother, he had more than you. It wasn’t fair to compare, but you were thinking it. 

He doesn’t seem to want to give you up either, at least that’s how it feels. He was heartbroken; defeated in that office. Just as sad as you. 

“Coming through-” Jake strides past you, holding onto three drinks, carefully balancing them in his hands, until he’s not. 

You turn to move, not realizing how close he was to you and knock your arm into his, sending the drinks flying over the front of your shirt. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim. 

Jake matches your sentiment, “Oh, shit.” 

You quickly run to grab a rag from the shelves behind the counter, trying to soak up the sticky liquid as fast as you can, before any stains set in. 

“Foul!” Yells one of the nasty regulars.

“Dude, shut up.” Jake retorts, rushing over to assist you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“It’s fine.” You don’t mean to be harsh, but in that moment all you could do was try to get him away. You didn’t want to think about him, about the situation, about any of it. You just wanted to get back to work. 

“This is Danny, and this is Sam,” Josh introduces the two other members of the band. 

You all gathered around the corner booth at the bar after the set. Jake had been avoiding you, taking his time to pack all of his things. The other boys were far less concerned with cleaning up, and headed straight to the bar, well straight to you. 

“Ohhh, so you’re the mysterious girl we’ve been hearing all about, huh?” Sam crosses his arms over his chest, surveying you, trying to be funny. 

“Oh yes, I’m very mysterious,” You joke back. 

Josh chuckles, “She isn’t one bit mysterious Sam, Jake is just always very vague with his lover’s darling. He doesn’t like to kiss and tell.”

You swallow back a large gulp of Jameson Ginger, “Oh yeah. I’m well aware.” 

Danny echoes into the conversation, trying to eagerly get in, “So how long have you two?...”

“Not long.”

“Oh,” Sam ponders, “I thought. Well, he’s been talking about a bartender for a-”

Josh shoots Sam a concerned look, trying to shut him up.

He knew? Did he know about Mariella? 

“Oh no, I’m not the only bartender,” Your comment is snide and condescending. You hope it’s not making a fool of yourself, but you want everyone to know the games Jake likes to play. 

You feel the alcohol finally hitting you now, maybe you didn’t realize it before, but standing with them for that short few moments was turning your mind into rubber. 

“Sam, c’mon. He’s your brother, you know how he is.” Danny whispers to Sam. 

Shit. Not another brother. 

“Was.” You correct, holding your finger out at Danny, “Let’s hope it’s was.” 

“Yes Mama,” Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, he turns to face the boys, “We like her, so we’re going to hope it’s ‘was’.”

“Where did he even go?” You ask, slurring your words slightly. 

Sam shrugs his shoulders, and is the first to sit in the booth, “I don’t know but I’m not waiting around for him to have any fun!”

“I like your thinking!” Josh exclaims, jumping in the booth beside Sam. 

Danny corrals on the other side of Sam, and Josh pats the empty seat next to him. Fuck. 

You cautiously slide into the booth next to Josh, trying to leave ample space between the two of you. 

The boys are like classic best friends. Danny and Sam seem to have a great bond, completely forgetting the fact that they aren’t blood brothers. They act like they’ve known each other their whole life. Their outfits are almost matching, both in patterned jeans and snug-fitting plain shirts. Their hair is just about the same length, except Danny’s is curly and wild, and Sam’s is sleek and flowing; similar to Jake's.

Josh is clearly the eccentric one of the group, sporting some sort of animal skin vest and low-rise dark wash jeans. He has on so much jewelry it jingles with each movement he makes. He’s practically wearing a tambourine with all the clangs. 

They all speak amongst themselves, raving about the set, the crowd, parts they think they nailed, and parts they want to work on more. It was a nice break for you to just enjoy being there with them, getting to know them just by watching. You were picking their brains without them even realizing that you were doing so. 

The two brothers fake-bickered with each other. Similar to how Josh and Jake would torment each other, but in a much more playful and innocent manner. You could see Jake in both of them, in different ways. Josh, well because they were twins, they shared eerily identical expressions. Josh just carried all of them in a more lighthearted way. Sam, on the other hand, you could see Jake’s sass within him. 

Just as you are finally ready to find a way to sneak into their fun, a presence joins you at the booth. You can feel the heat radiating off of him as he slides into the spot next to you, pushing everyone further down in the booth. His hand reaches over to your thigh, grasping it tightly, marking his territory. 

“Hi, Sunshine.” He grits through labored breaths. 

“Welcome!” Josh roars, “Glad to finally see you joining us!”

“Well, someone had to talk to the manager- who by the way, was very impressed by our performance. He wants us back next month.” Jake says these words as if they aren’t even exciting at all. 

“Oh! That’s awesome!” You cheer, looking around at all the boys. 

Their faces light up with victory, and they immediately start cheers-ing each other. 

Josh nudges your shoulder, “It was most definitely our dancing Mama! That energy got the whole crowd going! You’re our good luck charm.” 

You blush at Josh’s kind words, “Wherever you guys go, I’ll be there to cheer you on…” 

You drop your hand to the table, showing the boys you’re in this with them. They all take turns grabbing your arm and showing their appreciation. 

“Yeah, they really loved you.” Jake sneers. 

The sarcasm is lost on Sam, who pipes up, “Yeah they were all cheering for you guys! It was awesome, they stayed standing the rest of the set!”

Danny nudges Sam and whispers in his ear. Danny is like Sam’s conscious, warning him of all the sourness that is happening at the table. Sam awkwardly smiles. 

Jake pulls your drink from your loose grip and finishes the remainder of it. You shoot him a disgusted glance, furrowing your brow harder than you thought you possibly could. 

The boys all sit in silence, watching this awkward interaction.

Josh is quick to break the ice, like always, “So next time, maybe we can coordinate something? A little moment just for us?”

You turn to him, trying to warn him not to say that in front of Jake. But it’s too late for that. Jake grips your thigh, hard, nearly breaking through your jeans. 

“It’s not her band.” He snaps. 

“Yes Jake, I know it’s not my band,” You crack. 

“I liked your dancing!” Danny encourages, “You were really good!”

You grin back at Danny, thanking him with your expression. 

Josh jumps back into his own conversation, “Ok, but imagine, if we did that spinning thing again, but we lined it up with-” 

“Maybe you can take up one of your solos to dance with her.” Jake is being completely rude. You know the cause of it all. You know why he’s so ill-mannered. You try your best to forgive him but know there’s too much brash to go unnoticed by the others. 

“Josh, let’s think about this another time, okay? Let’s enjoy the victory of the night for now,” You turn to Jake, “Jake, we were just playing around okay?”

Jake rolls his eyes and leans back into the booth. He takes his hand from your thigh and rests both of his wrists on the table, fiddling with the callouses on his fingers. Josh nods his head and finally gets the point. 

Danny jumps up from the booth, excusing himself to go grab some more drinks. The table’s vibe has completely changed, instead of excited conversation, it’s mute. Sam is paying attention to the music playing over the speakers, tapping along to the beat. Josh is trying to get his drink down as fast as he can. And Jake… Is being Jake. 

His mood has been absolutely horrible. All because you chose to have fun. How rude of you.

“Hey,” You poke at him, “You don’t need to be like this right now. You have so much to celebrate!” 

“Oh yeah, let me celebrate that my girlfriend wants to be around everyone here but me.” He growls under a low breath. 

“Jake,” You comfort, “I came here for you, I’m excited for you.” 

“No.” Jake raises himself, and turns his head, angling towards you, “I do believe Josh, is the one that invited you. And if I’m not mistaken, you two were the ones dancing during my solo. Oh and also, it wasn’t you that came to see me after I finished up, it was the drunk old bar manager.” 

“Jake…” This time it isn’t you trying to calm him down, it’s Josh. He’s protecting you. 

“Fuck you Josh, you do this shit on purpose, trying to piss me off.” 

The tension is starting between the two, and you’re quite sure those heavy sips weren’t helping the situation at all. 

“Hey! Need I remind you, who was the one who-”

“Shut up.” 

You glance your head between the two of them, confused. Jake drops his head and turns away from Josh. Josh swirls the ice around in his cup, trying to avoid eye contact with you. 

“Josh…” You pry, “What did you do?” 

“Don’t,” Jake interjects, trying to hold off Josh. 

What the hell was going on? What sort of fucked up twin telepathy was happening. 

“No, no,” You scold, “Maybe I should ask what the fuck you did Jake? Huh?” 

Sam slowly tries to crawl out of the booth, avoiding whatever is about to go down. 

Josh crosses his arm, trying to yield to Jake, “He did nothing.” 

“Okay?” Your voice is shaky, trying to understand if this even involved you. This drunk version of you was trying any way to find out more. “Clearly someone did something.” 

Jake lifts his head, staring down Josh, almost pleading with his eyes to keep quiet. 

“Josh…”

You turn yourself to block Jake’s eyeline, lining yourself up with Josh. 

“Is it about me?” You ask, imploring. Hoping that his answer would be no. 

Josh sighs and drops his arms, bracing himself on either side of his legs. He takes a long breath. 

His silence confirms it all for you. 

Jake echoes in your ear, “Don’t worry about it.”

You scowl back to Jake, “No more hiding shit Jake.” 

He reaches his hand up to his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Before he even has a chance, Josh lets it spill out. 

“Jake wasn’t going to go back to you.” 

He could have stabbed you in that moment and the feeling would have been the same. 

“Fuck! Josh!” Jake yelps. 

Your heart drops. Jake fighting him is proof enough that what Josh said was true. You turn to Jake, tears welling in your eyes. 

“What…” You push Jake’s shoulder, “the fuck,” another push, “does that mean?”

You feel your whole body shaking with anxiety. The alcohol is climbing up your throat; tears starting to fall from your eyes. 

Josh grabs your hand, trying to prevent you from hitting Jake any further. 

“Mama, listen. He just didn’t think you wanted him anymore. I went over to talk to him about it and told him he should try again.” 

You turn to snap at Josh but feel horrible even thinking about being mean to him. He was honest with you, trying to help. 

“So, but…” You feel absolutely defeated, “So if you hadn’t said anything he wouldn’t have…?”

Jake turns completely away from the two of you, dropping his head into his hands, trying to breathe through it. 

“You fucking ruin everything, Josh. You always get to be the sun. You always get to save the day.” 

You turn to Jake, cautious to defend Josh, “Jake you need to tell me what happened.” 

Jake doesn’t turn back to you. Josh tries to grab your hand one last time, silently asking you to go easy on Jake. 

“Why wouldn’t you come back?” Your voice is breaking completely now. The rush of emotions is piling through you, breaking your heart all over again. 

Knowing he didn’t want to come back felt like it was all your fault. You were the one who turned him away before knowing the entire story. But also, you had a right to be upset. The juxtaposition of it all was fucking with you. Who was right? 

Jake is still silent, holding himself up in his palms. You turn back to Josh, begging for any sort of help. His hands rest on his cheeks, realization setting in of what he did. He went too far. Twins weren’t meant to be this damaging to each other. The public tension of it all was awkward, pushing each other too far. 

“What’d I miss!” Danny perkily walks over to the table, holding everyone’s choice of drinks. Sam’s trying to hide behind him, knowing what situation he left. 

You pout through the tears, showing Danny that he didn’t miss anything too good. 

You rise from your seat, standing on the wooden bench, climbing over Josh to leave the booth. You pat the two best friends on the shoulder, apologizing through silent chokes of your tears. 

Sam gingerly hands you your next round, placing the glass in your hand, and patting your knuckles. You awkwardly smile back at him, thanking him for the drink. 

You take a hefty swig and place the remainder of the drink in front of Jake, “Here… Unlike you, I don’t like putting good things to waste.”

The boys all wince through their teeth, and Jake jolts up to scowl at the boys. 

You secretly run past the booth and into the dark bathroom in the back of the bar. 

The shift is by no means easy. The two of you are in the worst rhythm you’ve ever had. Even on your first shift together, it was like magic. You could almost sense each other coming, you were good at trading off tasks. Tonight…. Was not that. 

Jake screwed up three orders, and you took two more drinks to the chest. Each time exclaims were made between the both of you, and patrons took it upon themselves to call out. The understanding for your bodies that you had just hours earlier was completely gone, completely out of sync. 

Usually, it would just be you struggling with your own thoughts, but you could tell the weight of the situation was sitting heavy on Jake. You had left things in a horrible, but justified place. You didn’t exactly feel bad for what you said, because, well it was the truth. So what Jake had to give up a booty call? You were the one that got the shit end of the stick every time. 

The bathroom was full of women. They were all slightly older than you, and mostly concerned with their friends who were far too drunk, or paying attention to how their makeup was holding up. 

You snuck through them, trying to find the one empty stall. You closed the door behind you and quickly locked it, stowing yourself away. The echoes of their voices melted with the loud music vibrating on the walls. 

Fuck.

What the hell? 

He couldn’t even look at you. 

He couldn’t even admit it. 

Why wouldn’t he come back? 

Well… You did kind of end that last night on bad terms. During that entire week, you wanted to run back to him; but you didn’t. He just needed a push. But what if he never got that push? What if he never showed up to tell you what actually happened… 

He never even tried to explain himself at the bar. He just kept trying to get you going. He can’t admit when he’s wrong. Does he have to be persuaded into being nice? Not entirely. Not all the time… 

Chris is about ready to lock up. He does his usual survey of all the surfaces, walking laps around each table, around the counters, really just pretending to look at everything. There really weren’t any expectations for the cleanliness of each table. He was actually just waiting for one of us to say something to him. For one of us to have decided. 

It was the stupidest fucking rule known to man. It’s a bar. People are bound to start fucking each other. Thats life. 

Jake and you had not broached the subject any further. There was no time and no further discussion to be had yet. It was the worst decision for either of you to make. It was utterly ridiculous. You didn’t expect Jake to give up his job either and almost started to believe that this was some sort of ending.

You tried not to think about it too much. Tried not to let that reality set in until you knew it for a fact. 

One last swipe of the counter, and you had completely cleaned up. Jake on the other hand was sweeping the floors, trying not to clean up in the same area. You try your hardest not to keep staring at him, but you want so badly for him to look at you. You want to figure this out… together. 

He places the large broom at the corner of the bar and strides over to Chris. You’re watching it play out in front of your eyes like a movie. You pretend to be distracted at the POS, but sneaking glances over your shoulder. 

Chris runs his hand over Jake’s shoulder and gives him a firm shake. Jake drops his head and nods. Reaching up to pat Chris’ hand. And just like that it’s over. 

What… What happened? 

Jake strides out of the bar, avoiding your eye contact, and slowly disappearing into the hallway. 

Oh, what the fuck? 

This is it. This is the end. Jake is giving you up. This wouldn’t be a romance novel. He wouldn’t run to you and lift you up, he wasn’t going to kiss you like no one was watching. He was just going to walk away, again. 

You throw your hands up, staring down Chris, trying to emulate ‘what the fuck’ with your body language. 

Chris mopes over to the counter, dragging out the moment as long as possible. He plops himself down on the stool in front of you, clasping his hands on the bar. 

“Go home. See you on Monday this week, kid.” 

So wait… He just… 

“Wait… What the fuck just happened?” You’re completely flustered, almost not believing what this means. 

“Jake quit. Go home. Talk to him.” 

TAGLIST (ILY GUYS!!!) Sorry if I missed anyone!

@gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @heckingfrick @gvfpal @sanguinebats @giraffehippy @anythingforjtk @lipstickitty @pinkandsleepy1934 @gretavansara @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @milkgemini @violet-hayes

[builtbybrokenbells]

11 with Danny pleaseee! <3

Prompt list here

Person A noticing person B is getting overwhelmed and helping them out.

w/c: 2k

pairing: danny x reader

warnings: fluff 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting and I’m so sorry it took so long, I hope you like it!! ♥️

“God dammit!” You exclaimed over the sound of shattering glass. The small crystals that once formed a dinner plate dramatically scattered themselves across the floor, taunting you as you felt the heat of embarrassment begin to embellish your cheeks. Tears of frustration started to prickle your eyes and you looked down over your still full hands at the mess below you. It was no comfort when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, making you clamber to the sink and quickly place the rest of the dishes down safely.

“Bug?” The familiar voice that usually sounded with comfort cut through you like a knife. You placed your hands on the edge of the counter to support your weight as you felt the tears slowly spill over your burning cheeks. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I…” you began, feeling your lip quiver at the thought of him worrying about you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just slipped out of my hand, is all. Don’t worry about it.” You finished, your statement coming out much stronger than you thought it would.

“It’s okay, I’ll grab a broom.” He offered.

“No, it’s okay, Danny. Go back to the living room, I can clean it up. I made the mess, anyway.” You sighed, lifting your hand to your face and wiping away the mess of mascara that was surely there. The last thing you wanted was to distract him from the company he had been so excited to have over.

He’d been talking about this specific Friday night for weeks. After months of nonstop meetings, recording, and bouts of touring, he was looking forward to finally having a day where him and his band mates weren’t required to do anything at all. The plans were set in stone, all but carved into the wall in scripture with the way he’d been radiating excitement over it, and you were more than happy to go along with them. You loved company, and you loved Danny, so it was almost blasphemy for you to have any ill feelings about a night like such. That would be true if this Friday were a normal Friday, but it had been anything but normal, so far.

When you woke, you had the intent of cleaning the house in preparation for a fun weekend of absolutely nothing, which was exactly what you and Danny wanted. When you crawled out of bed, you left him sleeping peacefully with no urge to wake him any time soon. When you walked downstairs to start your deep cleaning, you noticed a puddle of water by the sink. A pipe had sprung a leak throughout the night, and although it wasn’t a huge mess or a difficult fix, it was a poor way to start the day. You cleaned it, patched it, and were able to forget it ever happened before Danny even woke for the day. No harm, nor foul. You continued on like normal, mindlessly picking away at the other tasks on your to-do list. When it came time to run to the store and pick up all of the items you needed, you went to your car only to find you had locked your keys inside it the night before. After a moment of panic, you retrieved the spare set once you remembered they existed.

The store was fine, it had everything you needed, which was a huge relief. Things seemed like they were starting to look up until you got back in your car to drive home. That was when you noticed the gas gauge was threatening empty. You made it to the nearest gas station on fumes, and dropped your phone in the parking lot. It cracked the screen, but thankfully, it still worked. On a normal day, one or two of the inconveniences would not have fazed you at all. But, all four in the span of a morning seemed a bit excessive, leaving you cursing the universe for a few brief moments. When you got home, you vowed to brighten your spirits and put on a smile, more worried about ruining Danny’s mood than fixing your own. By the time you got back, he had gotten out of bed, but was sitting at the kitchen table with sleep still laced in his expression and a cup of coffee much too small to fix his months worth of sleep deprivation.

The sight of him alone was enough to warm your heart, to patch up any lingering wounds from the mornings unexpected happenings. You two cleaned together, talked, and shared excitement over the night that was bound to be good. But, you always failed to realize that pressure was not how a night full of good memories was made, and it inevitably caught up to you. By the time the boys arrived, dinner was not finished and you still had a mental list of things you wished you could have completed. You shooed Danny and his band mates away to allow them some much needed rest and relaxation while you bustled to cover your trail of chores that you hadn’t yet gotten done. You should have known that rushing wouldn’t get you anywhere, but in attempt to sit down faster, you had forgotten about the tray of cookies you threw in the oven after dinner was taken out to cool.

With the smell of burnt cookies lingering in the air, you couldn’t even seem to enjoy the meal you’d made, leaving you antsy to get up and away from everyone. As soon as the plates were cleared, you ushered everyone off once again, to have fun and drink while you did the dishes. In the midst of burying yourself in cleanup, you had tried to cut a corner and pile the dishes in your arms to make one trip to the sink. It worked well at first, but ultimately the top plate slipped, leading into the exact situation you found yourself in, now.

“Just because it’s your mess doesn’t mean I can’t help.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Before you could protest, he had slipped away and was off to find a broom. The crushing guilt of making him work on a much needed day off was overwhelming. You had tried so hard all day to make sure he didn’t have to do anything extraneous, and now he was stuck helping you while his best friends were laughing in the other room. Within minutes, he was back, sweeping up the glass with the utmost of caution, sure to not miss even a sliver. “Take your slippers off, make sure there’s none stuck to the bottom of them.” He said, finally looking up and noticing that you hadn’t yet moved from your position. “Hey,” he said, dumping the mess of shattered plate into the garbage bin. He discarded the broom, less worried about damage control, and most worried about you.

You felt his hand on your back. It was large, warm, and radiated love just with a simple touch. He gently turned you to face him, immediately noticing the puffy eyes and red nose. He lifted your chin, softly guiding you to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed, not only embarrassed over the mess you had made, but embarrassed for crying over a broken plate.

“No apologies needed.” He whispered, the corners of his lips upturning into a small, reassuring smile. “No need to cry over a broken plate, and no need to feel bad about anything.” He leaned down, placing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered closed, grateful that you had someone so willing to give you so much love, all of the time. “You need to take a break. You’ve been running around all day.” He said, his thumb drifting over your cheek as he spoke. “I should have helped more.”

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him. “Just tried to do too much at once, I promise I’m okay.”

“You’re overwhelmed, bug. You could’ve hurt yourself, and nobody wants that.” He said, pulling you into a hug. With your face pressed into his chest, you finally felt the tension that had been building all day come to a sudden halt. You held on to him tighter than you ever had before, surrounding yourself in him. He seemed to make everything better without even having to try.

“Ijustwantedyoutohaveagoodday.” The words were jumbled, barely audible due to your face being smooshed into his chest. He let out a chuckle, pulling back slightly to give you a chance to speak. “I just wanted you to have a good day,” you sighed, repeating yourself so he could hear you. “You’ve been working so hard, and you were so excited to just relax today, and I wanted to make sure you got that. I didn’t want to bother you, or anything.” The look he gave you surpassed shock.

“Bother me?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Never.” He shut the idea down before it could grow into anything more. “And I did have a good day, y/n. Still am. You know why?”

“Why?” You answered, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because of you.” He said, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I get to wake up to you every morning, so every day is good. And the only way I have a really good day is when I know you’re okay, too.” You felt your eyes brimming with tears again, but not from the overwhelming amount of work you had piled on yourself; it was because of how loved he made you feel. “I want you to ask for help when you need it. I’d rather work hard together for twenty minutes instead of you getting overwhelmed while trying to do it all yourself.”

“I love you,” you said, finally feeling a smile creep up on you.

“I love you.” He said, more sure of those three words than anything else in the world. “Now it’s your turn to relax. Have a glass of wine, sit down, laugh for a while.”

“I only have a few more things to do, I promise I’ll come join in a minute.”

“Ah,” he warned, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes, but ultimately knew that there was no point in arguing.

“Fine.” You agreed. A triumphant smile graced his lips as he leaned down for a kiss. When his lips met yours, all of your stress melted away almost instantly. He was reluctant to pull away, so when he did, he stole another quick peck before straightening up.

“I’ll do the dishes tomorrow, and you can stay in bed all day, if you want. From now on, tonight’s about cheering you up.” He said.

“Danny-“

“Hey!” He cut you off, a chuckle following the sharp word. “Making sure you’re okay is exactly how I want to spend my night. When you’re happy, I’m happy.” Your heart swelled with affection for the boy in front of you. He raised an eyebrow, anticipating your answer. You let out a giggle, but nodded in agreement. “Seriously, take those slippers off, though. Just in case.”

“Oh, yeah.” You said, quickly shuffling out of them and leaving them where they were. He turned to the fridge, opening it and quickly locating a bottle of wine. He flashed it to you, paired with a smile that was sweeter than sugar, hoping for a stamp of approval. When you reached out to grab it, he knew you were feeling better.

You joined his side, reaching for his hand as he closed the fridge front. “Don’t ever be scared to ask for help, okay?” You gave a curt nod, knowing that you should have said something much sooner. “I love you.” He repeated it again, just to make sure you knew.

“I love you, too.” But it was impossible not to know it. He showed it in every word, action, and expression. Danny radiated love, and you knew you were the luckiest person in the whole world, because you were the one who got to receive it.

danny is so boyfriend and literally for WHAT.?

[seuonji]

Hello!! I'm new to your page but I'm really enjoying your writing! <33 I was wondering if I could request a little smt ☺️ How would svt (any unit) react to you being anxious about driving because of past accidents. I was recently (like 24hrs ago) in an accident (got rear ended so hard it threw me off the street & into a tree) so I'm trying to find ways to comfort myself a bit since I'm still a shaken up about the whole incident (luckily no physical injuries!) :)

from aya: oh my, thats so recent,, i’m so sorry that happened but glad to know you’re okay with no injuries but still, hope you heal well from this. take it easy and take care<3 (and i hope you got compensated ong TT)

glad to know you’re enjoying my account i appreciate your feedback so much!! i hope this comforts you well╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ and i hope you get the courage to drive again!! stay safe <3

seungcheol/joshua/jun/jihoon/seokmin would definitely understand why you’d feel anxious to drive, it’s a traumatic experience! he wouldn’t force or ask you to get back to driving until you say you want to try again.

when you tried to drive but the anxiety came over you, he would listen to what you’re afraid of and would try to guide you on how to conquer it. he’d start off by making you feel comfortable in a car so he would be the driver, with you in the passenger seat. he’d drive you to your favourite place. “hey, you can’t come here if you can’t drive yourself,” he said as a small tease. it was really more of a hinted encouragement.

once you’re ready, he’ll support you until you feel completely confident in driving again!! he’d sit in your passenger seat and reassure you that you’re okay.

“just relax, i’m here.”

+

jeonghan/minghao/seungkwan/chan when the accident first happened he pampered you everyday even if you had full mobility. he listened to your concerns and he would try to give advice.

slowly as days passed he gently reasoned with you so you’d start thinking about driving again. “yn do you know how much cheaper it is to drive rather than take public transport?” he asks as he brushes your hair with his fingers. he wasn’t rushing you into anything, he just thought it might help with your morale. he also just generally knew that you couldn’t stay scared.

“i know you’re scared of what happened before but i promise you it won’t happen again.” he gives small encouragements until you get back on track. he’s with you every step of the way, he’d go on every car ride if that’s what you want.

+

soonyoung/wonwoo/mingyu/vernon stayed with you at home after the accident happened. he consoled you and made sure you were getting the comfort you needed.

during the time when you were anxious he tended to give you pep talks— “yn, you can do this. it’s scary i know but i will be there with you when you’re ready to try,” he said while holding both your hands. it’s a tough situation you’re in but he knows overtime you would regain your strength and courage.

he’d be the one to drive in the meantime until you’re ready. when you were they would of course be in the passenger seat. even if you drive one centimetre they’re already cheering for you. they’re endlessly caring and happy for however amount you try!!

+

they all validate your feelings and totally understand where you’re coming from. they aswell remind you yourself to go through the process slowly and not to rush!! take it step by step. they’re just generally protective over you. the first time you got in the accident they could barely handle the thought of it, especially since they hated the fact you were hurt. in this moment your health is their priority!!

drive responsibly guys(´⊙ω⊙`)!!

[sitp-recs]

Hi liv! I hope you’re having a great Friday! Do you have any recs for a “rainy romance” like something that may feature a lot of rain but is just cozy in essence. Think Little Compton Street maybe? Something that maybe one could read while listening to piano and rain sounds? Thanks for allllll that you do!!!!!

Hi anon, happy weekend! Oh I love this ask, as you know LCS is one of my all-time favorite fics and I really love the idea of a rainy, cozy love story to lose myself in. This got long enough so I’m also linking HP Drizzle Fest for more recs. I hope you enjoy, some fics are a bit melancholy but I still think they’re a great fit:

The Reason to Start Again by @phdmama (T, 2k)

The rain that’s been pouring down all day has finally tapered off, leaving the streets wet and a heavy mist hanging in the air. It’s warm and cosy inside the pub, and it’s been 362 days since Draco packed his bags and walked away.

Sky Full of Song by @writcraft (T, 2k)

Draco turns up at Harry's birthday party unexpectedly and Harry takes a leap of faith.

Petrichor by @tsauergrass (G, 2k)

After the war, Draco found himself uncontrollably drawn to the rain.

waltzing lights by @piarelei (T, 4k)

The rain is cold, the boat shaky and all that Draco can find comfort in is the warmth of Potter's presence. Or, Draco is a miserable sod and decides to take action.

Rainfall by Saras_Girl (T, 4k)

So what if Draco has a rain kink? Everyone likes something weird.

Twenty Minutes Till Free Fall by BelladonnaLee (T, 5k)

A night of rain. A bare-boned safe house. A clandestine meeting between a spy and his case officer. Being with Harry is like falling through the air—and Draco isn't sure he wants to stop.

Rain by Omi_Ohmy (NR, 5k)

Luna is getting married, and old friends meet up. It's too hot, and everything's changing for everyone except for Harry, who is still mooning after Draco.

A Little Understanding by disapparater (G, 6k)

Everybody needs good neighbours. During a storm, Harry turns to his newest neighbour for help.

Harmony (Left-Handed Melody Remix) by mindabbles (M, 6k)

He is the last person Draco was expecting, but then again, this is not a place Draco ever expected to be.

Howl by @tackytigerfic (M, 9k)

After an encounter with a vicious werewolf, Draco Malfoy wakes in a field hospital with a mangled shoulder, a furry little problem, and an inconvenient crush on Harry Potter. Potter, meanwhile, is still trying to save the world, only this time he wants Draco right there with him while he does it.

Impervius by ravenclawsquill (E, 11k)

Harry and Draco are working together on a case in the beautiful English Lake District. Or, it would be beautiful if only it would stop raining. Fortunately, Harry has an umbrella. Unfortunately, it's pink and frilly, and Draco would rather die than share it with him.

Voices From The Fog by @noeeon (E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Exiled by A_factorygirl_69 (E, 16k)

Draco is declared persona non grata by the Ministry after the War. Harry has been tasked with keeping an eye on him, ensuring he stays out of England.

Bound To You by agentmoppet (E, 21k)

Hag magic is capricious and unruly, and Harry and Draco are bound to stay by each other’s side until they can solve the riddle. In between long car trips, misty rain, and midnight star charts, they begin to understand each other.

Thunder by keyflight790 (E, 21k)

The storm will disappear; the rain will subside; but what's left in its wake will last forever. A story of love and loss, redemption and thunder.

The Isle of Discussion by @shealwaysreads (E, 22k)

Harry and Draco arrive at the shores of Loch Leven to record the magical history of the land. They’re friends now, but up there in the Highlands, amidst the trees and sky and that wild expanse of water their own past is more present than ever; a gap they still can’t bridge. Magic illuminates the truth, but it is Harry and Draco who have to speak it. Happily, it turns out that honesty is, in fact, the best policy.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win.

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others.

To Vanish Into Something Better by @m0srael (E, 35k)

Harry Potter thought he could outrun the burden of infamy by isolating himself in the Muggle world. Draco Malfoy hasn’t been seen or heard from since his trial. Will a top-secret Ministry project, a beautiful garden, and a little heat carry them both home?

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (E, 51k)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

Nightcall by Femme and noeon (E, 116k)

A hideously mauled corpse is found sprawled across the paving stones of Brick Lane in the East End of London. Inspector Harry Potter--widely believed to be the lead candidate for next Deputy Head Auror--is called in to investigate a possible magical crime. To make matters worse, his occasional lover and former school-nemesis, Viscount Draco Malfoy, now billing himself as a consulting criminologist, shows up at the crime scene to aid in the investigation of the suspicious death.

Taking Chances by @gracerene (E, 135k)

After the war, Draco disappeared and started over in America, vowing never to return to Great Britain and the fraught past he left behind. Unfortunately, when his mates convince him to sign up for an exchange programme for the last year of their Auror Training, Draco learns that he doesn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Artwork:

in my solitude comes our rain by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

Rain by @istehlurvz

Rain of Fate by @lilbeanz

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

Reunion- UTBM verse drabble

Based on an idea I got earlier today. In which Anetra gets a pleasant surprise in seeing one of her old packmates (and friend) in the city, and introduces Sasha to someone special in her past life

Anetra felt Sasha’s hand tighten her grip as they left their favorite thrift store. She noticed Sasha walking slower, looking in both directions as they walked along the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the other wolf. 

“There’s another wolf nearby, but I don’t think they are from around here,” Sasha explained in a low voice, not to catch the attention of the humans passing by. 

Anetra tilted her head, not getting the same concerned instinct that Sasha was getting. “Do you think they might be dangerous?” 

“Can’t take any risks with anyone unfamiliar to here. All the packs know each other around here, so I have no idea what they could be after.” Sasha explained as she pulled Anetra closer to her. 

Anetra nodded, not pushing the issue further. She noticed after they started their courtship, Sasha was more protective over her. This usually involved taking more common paths around the territory on their walks together and being careful of their surroundings in the city. 

“I think they are close now,” Sasha said as they turned the corner, looking around carefully. “Maybe we should get going-” she was interrupted by a feminine voice. 

“Anetra? Is that you?”

Anetra knew that voice. It was one of the only voices from her past that brought her happy memories instead of panicking fear. 

She turned to see a lean girl with light brown hair exiting a coffee shop. She wore a brightly colored outfit, standing out from the rest of the passersby. 

It was the type of clothes she would have never allowed to wear in her old pack. But Anetra felt a great flood of happiness and relief at the sight of her old friend. 

“Mirage!” She exclaimed, The Omega dropped Sasha’s hand and made a bee-line to Mirage. She was met with open arms, and both tightly held each other in their excitement. 

“What are you even doing here?” she asked, but they held each other at arm’s length. 

“I found a mate and we live together with the pack that her family is from. Our territory is just a few miles north of town. Mirage explained, looking Anetra up and down. “But what are you doing here? We all thought that you were dead for over a year!” 

Anetra took a deep breath, “Long story, but I had to escape. I found a pack that ended up taking care of me when I was too weak to travel, and now I’m a part of their pack.”

Mirage lowered her voice, “Did they do that to your eye? When you ran away?” 

Anetra nodded and saw Sasha linger behind in the corner of her eye. “Don’t worry about me, I’m in a great place now,” she smiled. 

Mirage caught a glimpse of Sasha watching them, “Is that your Alpha? Are you in trouble?” she asked. 

Anetra turned her head to look at Sasha, and both giggled at the misunderstanding. “This is my Alpha, but I’m not in trouble.”

“I’m Sasha, Anetra and I are in a courtship.” Sasha introduced herself, linking her arm with Anetra. “I’m guessing you are from Anetra’s old pack?” 

Mirage sighed in relief, “I am, but I’m glad to know she’s safe and in good hands.” 

“Mire? Are you ready to go?” a woman across the street asked. 

Mirage looked over and called out, “Just a moment!” she turned back to Anetra and Sasha, “I need to get going, but it was great seeing that you are doing well here.” 

Anetra shared a quick goodbye hug to Mirage, as Sasha spoke up. 

“You are more than welcome to visit our territory. You can even bring your mate along if you would like.” Sasha offered. 

“Really?” Mirage looked at her in surprise, and Anetra couldn’t help but feel surprised as well. “I would like that a lot.”

Once they parted ways and Anetra followed Sasha back to the car, she spoke up in their comfortable silence, “You never let visitors on the territory.” she pointed out. 

Sasha smiled at her, “I can tell she is a close friend of yours, and she makes you happy.” she simply said. “And I guess not all outsiders want to hurt you like I was worried about.”

“No, she’s a good outsider. One of the best outsiders I know.”

[misspaddockverse]

Snippet of my WIP x ls18

Lance Stroll x Original Female Character

Tags: slow burn through mutual pinning, he was a punk she did ballet, bad guy x good girl, angst here and there, he fell first and she fell harder, gateway car vibes

Notes: this is just a bit of what I’m been working on, still a very rough draft. Hopefully it’ll be on ao3 soon. Hope you enjoy it!!!

Please forgive any typos, English is not my first language

Lance was a terrible driver.

This was ironic, because at over 300 km/hour, wether under rain or into dark nights, he was pretty reasonable at it, overtaking equally fast cars and getting better at it each year. But on the urban streets and, on top of that, Asian desertic urban streets… he was terrible.

The cars moved painfully low, there were too many traffic lights, and he had to stop and get back going several times, despite not understanding a single word from the street signs and having to blindly rely on that cheap-ass GPS whose voice he grew a deep hate towards in the last 20 minutes.

After many missed entries, many more mistaken roundabouts, and, accidentally, almost hitting two trees and a half, he saw the Sakhir Circuit at the end of the street and let out a relieved breath.

He made a mental note to never again choose hookups on out-of-city hotels before practice Friday instead of the practical, comfortable, and heavenly placed paddock motorhomes.

When he finally made it to the circuit, Lance grinned like an idiot, happy as if he had won a race for having made it there without running over any poor civilian. He had just one more deadly obstacle to overcome: parking.

He had to put his rented Aston Martin safely in one of the stalls, in the middle of other luxury vehicles belonging to drivers and other paddock staff members. Easy-peasy lemon squeezy. He decided to do it once and for all before chickening out (and because if he thought too much about it he’d end up calling Rob for help again), so he targeted a free spot and sped right into it.

And, of course, another car would come at the exact same time, to the exact same space, and almost, almost crash into him. Damn it. He hit the brakes out of pure reflex, the other car doing the same just a second later than him, preventing them both from ruining two expensive and beautiful machines.

— What the hell… – he muttered under his breath, blinking, recovering from the shock.

He had sense, so he turned the vehicle off, opened the door, and stood up outside, sliding his sunglasses to his forehead, ready to apologize and receive the jokes about him not being able to park, when he saw who was in the other car’s direction…

— You – the young woman said in an accusatory tone, standing by the opened door of her car with a disappointed look and a fiercely accusatory posture – I should’ve guessed.

Lance had no choice but to bark out a laugh. Unbelievable.

He remembered her: angelic, royalty-like face, definitely had a boob job, British accent, a pain-in-the-ass attitude, etc. Esteban’s girlfriend’s friend or something. Why the hell was she in the staff parking stall? And with a mad-ass bright red Ferrari?

— Good morning, princess – he gestured a lazy greeting with one hand, resting his other elbow over the door – This is starting to get weird. Are you following me?

She seemed genuinely confused, a pout on her pinkish lips.

— Why would I do that?

— I don’t know – he shrugged – Maybe you’re lonely.

A scoff, followed by a humorless smile.

— My boyfriend would disagree. – she shot him a glare as if it intended to shut him off which, honestly, only made him smile wider. That insecure, uh?

— My condolences to the poor guy.

She rolled his eyes, an exasperated face. Under the sun, her golden hair shone just like a barbie in a Hollywood movie. For a second, Lance wondered if she maybe worked in Formula 1 to be there that day. Her classic demeanor maybe fit better as a celebrity guest in the Monaco GP, but Bahrain?

— You almost hit me and you’re insulting me? – she inquired, horrified, British accent thick and annoyingly posh.

— Quite the other way around, princess – he corrected, defensive – You almost hit me.

— What? I was coming slowly and you came out of nowhere at full speed! I had the blinkers on and everything.

— Really? – he deadpanned – Out of us two, who’s most likely to not drive very well?

She gasped and shutted the reaction down a second later, making Lance swallow a laugh. She got on the edge so easily.

— You know what? I’m taking this spot. Go park somewhere else!

He might have dwelled on that if she didn’t look so certain and didn’t get back in the car so quickly, leaving Lance to watch with a bemused expression.

She turned the car back on, and he could see her concentrated expression through the translucid window. Just because she was blocking the way, he waited and watched. Lance propped both forearms on his car’s door and enjoyed the live entertainment, as she went reverse and front about five times before actually placing the car in a good position to enter the parking spot. Then she stopped, opened the window, and asked him:

— Can you move your truck aside a bit? It’s blocking the passage

Jesus. Who let her with a freaking Ferrari Portofino?

— What’s the magic word? — he taunted.

Her shoulders slouched down with frustration.

— For God’s sake! Having you watching me makes me nervous.

He drew a smug grin.

— It’s a GP weekend, everyone is here to watch other people drive.

She put on a scowl as they reached a midpoint, and she was almost trying to park without him moving when another figure approached the empty stall, exasperated and hurried. Lance recognized him as Charles Leclerc's brother, the older one.

— Mate, why are you taking so long? – he called her out, naturally and empathetically, as if having her taking so long to do that was a recurrent activity – We’re all waiting to go the lounge.

— Hm… — she trailed off, suddenly at loss of words, watching as he approached the space between the two of them, noticing Lance.

— Oh, hey mate! – he offered his hand as a greeting, polite – All good?

It took Lance one second too much to react.

— Yeah – Lance greeted him, a bit confused about how familiar and automatically he was addressing… her. He didn’t even know her name. – What’s up?

— All good. See you’ve met Kennedy.

Kennedy. The name replayed in his mind as he nodded.

— Uh. Yeah.

— My sister-in-law. — he offered happily

He had to shut his mouth to prevent his chin from dropping. Sister-in… well. Now it made sense. The Ferrari, the knowing Esteban, the being in the driver's parking stall. Okay. Okay, that made sense.

— You two are having a bit of trouble here, hm? – the older Leclerc looked at her, analyzing the situation

— Kind of – she, Kennedy, looked over to Lance with mischief in her eyes – He is as terrible as I am in this.

— Well, to be fair you and Charles are true birds of a feather when it comes to parking, am I right? But come on, Maman is waiting for you.

As if it was something regular, she got out of the car letting him, her brother-in-law, handle the situation. For a handful of seconds, she stood next to Lance. Waiting. He stayed in silence, his mind running over 300 km/h.

— Not that astute when I’m not alone, aren’t you? – she murmured, with her back turned to him, delicate, pale hands crossed behind her back.

Lance wasn’t sure what pastured him the most: the posh accent in the way she said ‘astute’, the very raw and new challenging tone she displayed out of a sudden, or the way she shook the skirt of her flowered dress carefree and went to follow eldest-Leclerc to the sidewalk so unbothered. Not even giving a chance for him to reply. Suddenly she was in a hurry, then?

— Have a good race! – it was the guy who looked back to say goodbye to him.

[janeykath318]

Natasha Lends A Hand (Shieldshock)

“I thought you’d turned your accounts private,” Steve said, looking concerned and placing her phone on the end table out of her reach.

“I did, but thought it would be safe to check Tumblr. There’s people threatening to unalive themselves or burn all their Captain America gear if you marry me. They all hate me,” she sniffled. “I shouldn’t let it get to me, but it does.”

Steve sighed and repositioned himself so she was snuggled against him and wrapped his arm around her. Darcy sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.

“They’re just letting their bitterness and jealousy get to them. Block the hell out of them.”

“You bet I did. I guess no more social media for me until after the wedding,” she sighed. “Though how we’re going to pull that off without the angry mobs coming after me, I don’t know.”

“We’ll get through it. You’re the one I love and I get to spend my life with. Nothing will change that,” Steve reminded her softly, kissing the top of her head. “Shall I get the emergency ice cream?”

“You know me so well, babe,” Darcy sighed fondly. “Yes, please. I’m so grumpy, I don’t even care what kind it is.”

“I’ll get the big bowls, then,” Steve declared, extricating himself from the sofa and heading to the fridge.

Despite her irritation, Darcy took the opportunity to shamelessly ogle him from behind.

“Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave,” she crooned flirtatiously.

Steve chuckled as he dished up two heaping bowls of cookie dough ice cream.

“You’re ridiculous and I love it,” he responded, presenting her with her cold treat. Darcy gave him a thank you kiss before diving into her favorite comfort food.

Her mood cleared up and for a couple days, things were chill as rumors quieted down, but then an old photograph surfaced of Darcy leaving a bridal boutique and the furor was rekindled. Darcy deleted all social media apps from both of their phones and holed up in her apartment, calling Jane to inform her she’d have to work remotely for a bit.

The TV was no help either. Steve finally shut it off in disgust.

“I’m calling Natasha,” he finally declared. “This is out of hand.”

“I thought she was in New Zealand?” Darcy queried, trying not to sound too hopeful. She knew Nat would have useful tips for dealing with the crazy and would be there in a heartbeat if she could.

“Got back night before last,” Steve informed her. “She’ll keep the wolves at bay.”

“That she will,” Darcy agreed, flipping aimlessly through a bridal magazine. She’d long ago found her dress, but she loved looking at all the pretty styles and gleaning useful tips from the articles.

Sighing at a very romantic looking pose, she dog eared the page to add to her photo shoot ideas.

Two days later, Darcy found herself unceremoniously being hauled out to a waiting sports car by Natasha herself.

“Am I being kidnapped? Did I finally piss off Fury enough to have me disappeared?” she queried jokingly.

Natasha only smiled mysteriously.

“You’ll soon find out,” she teased evasively. “I assure you it is a good surprise. Now smile for the paps.”

Darcy blew a kiss to the gathered cameras and smirked as she left them in the dust.

“Where are we going?” she asked after they’d left the city well behind.

“Getting you married.”

“What?” Darcy spluttered. “Now? I mean, how?”

“I have my ways and several invested friends. We’re tired of seeing you and Steve so stressed and we’re going to give you a happy day with no paparazzi or snoops.”

“If you can accomplish that, my friend, you really are a miracle worker,” Darcy said, with a half sigh, half groan. “It’s a good thing I love that man as much as I do.”

“The fact that you’re not protesting speaks volumes,” Natasha observed. “And if I overstep in any way, please tell me.”

“You know I trust you, Nat,” Darcy assured her. “I bet you got me time off, packed my bags and my gown, and probably booked the officiant as well.”

“Pretty much.”

Darcy laughed and leaned back in the seat. A lot of decisions had just been taken out of her hands and for once she wasn’t mad about it.

Steve, meanwhile, was huddled in the backseat of an SUV being lovingly lectured by his friends.

“You should have said something sooner,” Bucky chided him. “We could have had this well in hand weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed from the driver’s seat. “I wish I’d paid more attention. I didn’t realize the press was hounding her so bad, the jackasses.”

“You guys have much bigger issues to deal with,” Steve protested. “I thought Darcy and I could handle it.”

Bucky gave him the stink eye and Sam sighed.

“The point is, Steve, you shouldn’t have to handle invasion of privacy and personal attacks. It’s not okay,” Sam told him. “Calling Nat was the right call. We’ll get you hitched in peace and quiet.”

The destination turned out to be a mansion in upstate New York with very tight security. Darcy’s eyes boggled as they drove through the gates.

“What kind of strings did you pull, Nat?” she asked in wonder, staring at the magnificent building.

“Never you mind,” Natasha replied. “Let’s just say someone owed me. There’s plenty of good options for either an indoor or outdoor ceremony. We’ll give you the grand tour tonight and have you saying I Do tomorrow. Then we’ll leave you alone to enjoy honeymoon bliss the rest of the week.”

“I like that plan!” Darcy agreed, cheerfully.

The two vehicles pulled up in front of the mansion and Steve and Darcy were handed their suitcases and ordered inside while their friends unloaded the other luggage. They gaped open- mouthed at the grandeur inside.

“That staircase is really something,” Steve admired. “The chandelier!” Darcy breathed in wonder. “I feel like I’m in the American version of Downton Abbey.”

“Yeah. Where’s Carson?” Steve joked with a chuckle.

Presently, Natasha swept in carrying the bag that contained Darcy’s dress.

“Follow me,” she ordered, “you too, Steve.”

Natasha assigned them to separate bedrooms, much to Darcy’s dismay, but assured her it was just for the one night, per tradition.

“I’ll be right next door,” Jane assured her. “We could turn this into a slumber party!”

Eyeing the gigantic four poster bed, Darcy certainly saw the potential.

Natasha hung up Darcy’s wedding dress in the spacious wardrobe and added another dress beside it.

“I brought your red dress along for dinner tonight, she informed her. “It’s a dressy occasion.”

Darcy just nodded, deciding to just roll with it.

The grand tour was one jaw dropping sight after another and Steve and Darcy decided that the lawn behind the mansion was perfect for a ceremony setting. It faced a beautiful row of pools and landscaped hedges that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The forecast looked good, but in case of inclement weather, they agreed on the enclosed porch for a backup.

Steve and Darcy lingered on the lawn, relishing the view and the peace. Darcy thought he looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. Steve was glad to see the tense lines and constant wariness erased from Darcy’s expression. She hadn’t deserved all the stress being with him had caused, but he was so grateful for her.

“I’m sorry I let it get to this, Darcy,” he sighed, holding her close. “You could have walked away from all the drama and I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“I’m too stubborn to quit on us and I love you too damn much,” Darcy replied, looking up at him contentedly. “I won’t gonna lie, it’s been awful, but we’re worth it.”

“Yes, we are,” Steve agreed, kissing the top of her head. He loved how perfectly they fit together. “We have the best friends, don’t we?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Darcy agreed.

Dinner was a happy affair and everyone looked incredibly gorgeous in their dressed up state. Natasha thought Darcy was positively glowing as she laughed and playfully argued with Clint about who had won an age old bet. Bucky eyed the bride and groom to be with a great deal of fondness and just a touch of wistfulness.

“I want what they have, don’t you?” he murmured to his table neighbor, Wanda.

“Yes,” Wanda sighed, smiling pensively. “They are so good for each other and so loyal through everything. That is a relationship to strive for.”

After dinner they went outside and stargazed while reminiscing about various escapades. Darcy and Steve shared the story of their meet cute again and the men took the opportunity to lovingly roast Steve.

Darcy went to bed after a very satisfying goodnight kiss, giddy at the thought that tomorrow she would be Mrs. Rogers.

Jane woke her with giddy impatience.

“Wake up! It’s your wedding day!”

“Ahhh!!” Darcy squealed, when she’d fully come to her senses. “It’s happening! It’s actually happening!!”

They clutched each other in an exuberant hug.

Natasha and Wanda joined them for a cozy ladies only breakfast, (Steve had been forbidden to see her before the ceremony), then they chilled out on the balcony for a while, champagne in hand.

They helped each other out with hair and makeup and Darcy could only stare in amazement at herself in the mirror as Natasha put the finishing touches on her updo.

“Wow! I look like a princess!” Darcy remarked, awestruck. “Nat, you’re a wizard. I should feel bad that my mom’s not here, but I can’t. She’d be throwing out the backhanded compliments like candy. Another benefit of eloping, I guess.”

“Truth,” Jane agreed. “They’ll have to settle for watching the video and pictures.”

“You got a photographer on this short notice?” Darcy asked, eyebrow lifting in surprise. “That’s quite a feat.”

“She’s pretty new to the business, but very talented,” Jane told her. “As soon as Natasha told me the plan, I called her: My wedding gift to you and Steve.”

“Jane. That’s……so sweet….I might just cry,” Darcy batted away tears and Wanda shook her head.

“No weeping and spoiling makeup yet, Darcy,” she commanded her. “Let’s get you into that beautiful dress….”

Everybody sighed in unison when Darcy unzipped the garment bag and revealed her beautiful gown. The strapless A-line design was covered with intricate beadwork on the bodice and lacy details on the skirt hem.

“Steve’s brain is gonna explode when he sees you,” Wanda commented, as they helped her into the dress.

“Not literally, I hope,” Darcy quipped. “I want him to live for our wedding night.”

She wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made Natasha chuckle and Jane wave her finger in playful rebuke.

Steve was sketching while he waited for his summons on the back balcony overlooking the garden. He hadn’t had this good of a view in a long time and his pencil flew across the paper as he drew. He supposed he should be feeling nervous, but he wasn’t. The flutters in his stomach were sheer excitement at finally marrying the woman he loved, a dream he’d thought long since died. But then Darcy had crashed into his life, quite literally, and nothing had been the same.

He felt a cool hand on his shoulder and Bucky spoke up.

“Nice to see you drawing again, punk,” he said. “Calming the nerves?”

Steve shook his head.

“I’m distracting myself from breaking Nat’s rule and running to see Darcy. I can’t wait. Are you and Sam behaving?”

“Us? Misbehave? Where’d you ever get that notion?” Bucky asked, feigning shock. Steve just chuckled.

“Only whenever you’re left alone for more than five minutes,” he retorted. “Kinda like me getting into fights, only now the tables have turned.”

Bucky shrugged sheepishly.

“You’ve got me there.”

A figure joined them a few minutes later and both men stared as they took in Natasha, looking beautiful in her light aqua bridesmaids dress, red hair curled and spilling down her back. Steve saw Bucky swallow hard.

“Fifteen minutes, gentlemen,” she told them, returning their admiring glances, her eyes lingering on Bucky. “Damn. You clean up good, boys.”

“So do you,” Bucky replied in a strangled sounding voice.

Steve grinned. He couldn’t wait to help these two get a clue.

“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Steve observed sympathetically after Natasha had disappeared.

“No…..aw, hell.” Bucky muttered, unable to lie to his best friend. “But She thinks love’s for children. What’s the point?”

Steve sighed.

“The point is, she’s had everyone she cared about ripped away and The Red Room philosophies were deeply ingrained in her. Believe it or not, I haven’t heard her utter those words in nearly two years. And clearly, she now believes in love enough to make sure I didn’t screw things up with Darcy and then gave us this…..” he gestured toward their surroundings as he flipped his notebook closed and stood up. “You’re about to witness firsthand how taking a chance is absolutely worth it. And this is coming from someone who’s known to be hopeless with women.”

Steve grinned at Bucky, who smiled knowingly back and stood to give him a man hug.

“I wouldn’t miss this miraculous moment for the world,” Bucky declared, with another affectionate thump on the back. “Now let’s go get you married.”

There were no decorations or aisle runners or musical accompaniments, but Darcy found herself not missing any of it. She simply waited until she’d seen the bridesmaids and groomsmen line up in front of the officiant—was that Agent IPod Thief?—and strolled outside to join them, escorted by Clint. (Thor was sadly unavailable, being busy with Asgardian stuff, but he’d sent Darcy a very congratulatory text message in all capital letters).

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Steve was looking at her like she was his entire world. The harassment that she’d been dealing with from social media and the press faded away in the reality of their happiness.

The jealous bitches can suck it! she thought gleefully.

Agent Coulson (How was he not dead?) looked exceedingly pleased to be overseeing the wedding of his childhood idol. It was kind of cute, Darcy observed vaguely, before Steve distracted her by winking flirtatiously at her.

“Yes, I do take this fine specimen of man to be my husband,” she proclaimed, when prompted. Steve’s ears reddened and Sam snickered.

“…..to love, honor, and cherish, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, through alien attacks and allergy attacks, through portals and peril, through midnight snacks and cuddles, until death do us part.”

“Awwwww….” Wanda sighed.

Steve squeezed Darcy’s hands, looking like he wanted to kiss her right then and there.

“I take this amazing, beautiful, fearless woman to be my wife, to love, honor, and cherish in sickness and in health, through alien attacks and allergy attacks, through tasers and tesseracts, through slow dances and silliness, until death do us part.”

They’d gone off script, but clearly their friends appreciated it and applauded their ad-libbing.

“That was impressive,” Bucky murmured, as he handed Steve Darcy’s ring.

She gave him another one of those glowy smiles as he slipped it on her finger. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she was and how lucky he was.

Darcy slid Steve’s ring on with a dramatic flourish and then they were pronounced husband and wife and he was kissing her exuberantly.

Everyone cheered.

Afterward, as they meandered through the gardens, hand in hand, Darcy told him, “Today was a fairytale. This was so much better than the big shindig I used to imagine.”

“You’re not upset about not having the big party we talked about?” he asked, fingering one of the dangling curls by her cheek.

“No,” she told him. “It felt so right. So us.”

“It did,” he agreed. “You look completely radiant, Mrs. Rogers.”

Darcy flushed at his warm words.

“If you keep using that tone with me I’m not gonna be able to control myself,” she playfully warned, running her hand up his chest. Steve in a tux was a very impressive sight and she felt a strong urge to climb him like a tree.

“I’ve dreamed of this ever since I crashed into you in the hallway that first time,” she admitted, feeling his heartbeat beneath her fingers.

“Groping me or marrying me?” he asked in amusement.

“Yes,” she answered mischievously, making her new husband laugh and then kiss her again. When she’d finally regained her senses afterwards, she saw a very pleasing sight.

“Oh, look, babe, looks like Bucky’s getting cozy with Nat over there.”

Steve followed her gaze to see Bucky walking alongside Natasha very closely. He said something that made her throw back her head and laugh in a way that she very rarely did.

“Now that’s what I like to see,” he murmured.

“Right?” Darcy exclaimed. “I ship it so hard! They deserve it so much.”

“They do,” Steve agreed. “I hope they realize that. She spent so much time trying to find me a wife and now the shoe’s gonna be on the other foot.”

He rubbed his hands together, very ready to help the BuckyNat ship sail.

“First order of business when we get back from our honeymoon,” Darcy declared. “In the meantime, how about we sneak inside and find a handy closet where I can ravish you?”

“Much as I like that idea, you’d better make sure you’re done with pictures first, because when I get through with you…..” Steve playfully threatened, dropping his voice intentionally. Darcy gulped.

“Right. Good point. Excellent point,” she rambled, fanning herself. “We should probably quickly round up everyone for a group picture. I’ll go get Jane.”

She picked up her skirts and scurried off, leaving Steve to smirk after her and then head to round up his friends. This newlywed thing was going to be fun, he thought.

[thranduilsperkybutt]

⫷SECOND-HAND EMOTION⫸

Gif Source

Pairings:  Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings:  Angst/comfort, happy ending though it hurts to get there; break-ups and make-ups; some cursing; love confessions; minor proofreading tbh i only proof-read like half of this

Word Count:  6,492 words

Reader Gender:  Female

Author:  Meg

Summary:  ”I didn’t know what to do so I... I ran away.” It’s been months since you last saw him, the only man to break your heart. Hell, he’s the only one who ever could. Filled with regrets, it’s too hard for Eddie to lie to you this time, as circumstances beyond your control bring the two of you together.

A/N:  Eddie Munson break my heart challenge 😭❤ I’m cursed with a brain that gives me intrusive thoughts like, “What if Eddie Munson broke up with you.” On the bright side(?) for once I’m not writing smut---

“Just great,” slamming the hood of your car closed, you’re nearly on the verge of tears. You can’t help the angry curses that spew from your lips into the dead of night, standing dejectedly on the side of the road, “Piece-of-crap car—! Damn this town!”

Hawkins really was just as cursed as people say, because every way you turn, your life seems to fall apart at the seams the moment you step foot back here.

Blinking back the overwhelming frustration, you move around to the driver’s side of your completely dead vehicle, fishing out your bag and keys. There’s nothing for it, now, and if you were feeling especially self-loathing, you would admit that this was your own fault for ignoring that weird rumbling noise your beat-up Chevy had been making these past two months.

As if you had much of a choice in neglecting the car, with your mom’s hospital bills taking up any bit of extra money that you could’ve used to get it looked at. You barely have enough to make ends meet as it is with your job at the Family Video store. It was just about the only place in Hawkins that had been hiring over the winter break, and when your stay in your hometown had become more permanent as your mom got sicker, you’d barely found the time to get your head on straight, let alone find a better-paying job.

Work was where you were heading home from until you broke down on the side of the road, with one last rattling wheeze from your car before death claimed it. Having closed down at the store, it’s well past eleven in the evening, and this side of Hawkins is all but vacant at this hour. Shoving your work uniform’s vest into your bag, you begin the trek down the road. The 24-hour diner two miles away is where you’re betting you’ll find a payphone, but even the brisk walk you take up doesn’t keep the anxiety from creeping up your spine at having to walk alone at night.

After all, Hawkins was far from a safe little town.

Every skitter in the pitch-black woods to your right has you picking up your pace, and when it starts sprinkling rain overhead, you’re begging to whoever’s listening that maybe Steve will be back from that date he’d been bragging about all shift by the time you get to a phone. You never thought that you would be praying for Steve Harrington to not get lucky, but here you were, practically in a full jog by the time you have the diner in sight, and hoping beyond all hope that Steve’s date has gone horribly in the last half hour.

The diner’s nearly vacant as you push in through the door, the ring of the bell alerting the lone waitress to your entrance. The rain has developed into a full-on downpour, and you’re sopping wet, tennis shoes squeaking on the tile as you step inside. The warm orange glow that the lights seem to cast on everything and the scent of fresh brewed coffee only serves to slightly calm your nerves, while you dig around your soaked bag for enough change to use the phone.

“Please pick up, please pick up,” you were muttering to yourself, listening to the lingering ring of Steve’s land-line. With every repetitive ring, your heart sinks, until finally you’ve hit rock-bottom with the sound of his answering machine picking up.

“How’s it goin’? You’ve reached Steve. I’m probably real busy at the moment, but I’ll be sure to call you back—”

Rolling your eyes at his recorded message, it drones in your ears until you hear the beep, “Harrington! If you’re home right now, pick up! This is an emergency situation. Steve? C’mon, pick up.” You groan, all but whining his name into the phone with one last hope that he’s maybe moping after a bad date, “Steve, please!”

You’re not that lucky.

Clanging the phone back on the hook, you groan. What are you going to do now? Your mom’s still recovering from her latest stint in the hospital, and if only Robin would ever bother to get her license, you would be able to call her up. It’s not like you remember any numbers from the group of people you used to hang around with in highschool off the top of your head—

Your breath catches in your throat at the thought. There was one person’s phone number you could never forget, regardless of how many months have passed. It was muscle memory at this point, with how often you’d dialed it over those three years between Sophomore year and the summer after Senior year.

The breath you take is shaky, and you don’t even want to consider calling him right now, not after how you left off. There’s still a space in your heart that he once occupied, and the mere thought of hearing his voice again after all this time sets a deep, empty ache in your chest.

Truth is, you’ve never quite gotten over what had happened between you and Eddie Munson.

He had been your first everything, and when he broke your heart, you’d lost pieces of it in the process that you don’t think you’ll ever grow back. Hell, you hadn’t even had a relationship since him. Maybe a date here and there, most recently set up by Steve or Robin, but an actual, committed, bona-fide relationship? No chance. No way.

That version of yourself who could learn to love again was still lost in the past, with him.

You still remember the words he’d said when he had torn you to pieces on his uncle’s living room floor. The distant, cruel tone he’d spoken with rings in the back of your mind like you were standing there this very second, and the heartbreak that tears through your soul is just as fresh.

“You need to wake up. We both knew from the start, this was never going to be a long-term thing—” he must have been the only one, because in your silly lovestruck mind, you still thought you would be Eddie’s girl for the rest of your life, even as he pushed you away. “You’re going off to college this fall, right? So now’s the perfect time for us to break up. We had our fun, but it’s time to go our separate ways, y’know?”

He had been so cold, barely able to look at you. There was nothing perfect about that day, or the way you had started to cry, ugly, with the more he said. For the first time since you met him, he’d managed to make you cry from something other than laughter, and the contrast of your reality versus what you’d come to expect from him was so jarring that some part of you had been left hoping this was all just another joke. Only when you were wiping tears from your face did he look at you, but while he only stood a few steps away from you, you felt more distant from him than ever.

“But, Eddie—” you were so broken that even your voice was shattered, barely able to get past his name before another sob bubbled up your throat.

“What? Did you seriously think this was serious?” he cleared his throat, and looked down at his arms crossed over his chest like it was difficult to look at you, as if the notion of it disgusted him.

It was pitiful, the way you bared your neck for him to hurt you, but you couldn’t stop the words falling from your lips, “I told you, we could make long-distance work! Why are you acting like this?”

Biting, he had only cut deeper, “Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want you hanging around here. You’re just embarrassing yourself—”

“I love you, Eddie,” came so quickly, you hadn’t realized you’d sobbed it, until his brown eyes widened, finally staring you dead in the face. In that moment, you could have sworn you saw a hurt of his own reflected back at you. A crack in the unfeeling shield he’d crafted with his words until the small sliver of heartbreak broke through, but he had just forced his eyes away from you once again, and said the one thing that he knew would send you away.

“I don’t love you, don’t you get that? I. Don’t. Love. Y—” you hadn’t let him finish, before you ran. Escaping the trailer that had once been a second-home to you, but right then felt like nothing more than a mausoleum. A tomb for the piece of you that he had killed on the spot, with a cruelty and indifference you had never witnessed from him until that very moment.

Eddie had always been so sweet, so kind, to you in particular. He had completely blindsided you with the break-up. One minute, you were planning out how to spend the holidays that you got off of college together, and the next there was no together at all.

You spent the better part of high-school so entirely infatuated with the boy, that by the time he finally mustered up the courage your Senior year to ask you out, he could do no wrong in your eyes. Maybe it had blinded you. Maybe if you’d spent less time trying to be his friend, and later his girlfriend, you would have seen the red flags.

Or, maybe not, considering that you still hadn’t quite figured out where your relationship turned south, even after spending months replaying every second over and over again in your mind. You had missed it entirely, simply figuring that any annoyance or anger on his part had been directed at the fact that he’d failed senior year for a second time.

Maybe he blamed that on you. Maybe you had distracted him too much. Maybe—

“Order up!”

The kitchen bell dinging breaks you from your downward spiral, bringing your thoughts back to the diner, and the payphone you still held onto for dear life. Your throat is dry, as you stare at the phone for a moment more, dread swirling in your stomach like the milk a patron beside you was stirring into his coffee.

You try to take a deep breath, but fail at even that, because it comes out shallow, shaky, and entirely uncertain of the decision you’re about to make. Even your hands shake, as you pluck the phone off the receiver and slowly bring it to your ear, pushing the last of your change into the machine, and tapping out the numbers that are imprinted in your mind even after all this time.

You don’t know if it would be better, or worse for him to not pick up the phone at all. Part of you wishes his uncle would pick up instead. Wayne had always liked you, if only because you made sure to leave him the leftovers whenever you’d cooked dinner at the trailer in those days. You know it’s just wishful thinking, though, because you doubt Wayne’s quit his steady night job at the plant.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t come get you, even if he did pick up the phone. You had once thought you could rely on him for anything and everything, but after the break-up, you were less certain in him. Questioning everything about your relationship and the man you once thought you knew had become second nature by now.

You’re so lost in the stress of the moment that you almost miss the sound of the ringing halting abruptly, and the lazy-sounding, “Yeah-lo?” that cuts through the line. A beat passes that you’re too stunned at having reached him to even so much as speak, before Eddie drawls with a little bit of impatience, “Munson residence? Hello?”

“Eddie?”

You said it so soft that you’re left for a second wondering if it had even been loud enough for him to hear you. With how quiet it gets on the other line, if it weren’t for the absence of a disconnection tone you would have thought he hung up.

Then, “Yeah,” comes through, just as soft, with a tinge of awkwardness at hearing your voice again, “It’s me.”

He doesn’t ask why you’ve called, and you take that as a good sign, or at least a sign that he was too stunned to refuse listening to your request, “I wouldn’t have called you so late— or… at all. I know you don’t want to hear from me anymore. I don’t want to bother you— but I really need some help right now and there’s no-one else—”

“Woah, hold on— What’s wrong?” comes clearer this time, but you know there’s no way he could be worried about you. Not after everything he’d said.

But you’re on the verge of tears anyway at the sound of his voice, trying to hold it together despite the crushing frustration that everything in your life building up to this moment has caused, and you’re certain he can hear it in your voice when you start anxiously rambling into the phone, “I was on my way home from work, but then my car broke down out on Dawson Road. I had to walk two miles to the diner, and it started pouring, so now I’m all wet, and Steve won’t pick up the phone—”

“Steve?”

“Harrington,” you sniff, “From work—”

“You’re workin’ in Hawkins?”

“Yeah,” you pause, debating on if it’s worth even telling him, before you cave, “I’m working at the Family Video, now.” It’s almost a relief, telling him about your life. There was once a time when he would’ve wanted to hear all the details, but you keep yourself from spilling more than that. You’re certain he doesn’t care to know anymore.

You can practically hear his confusion in the way he hums into the phone, and it reminds you of the late-nights you’d spent blowing up the phone bill to talk to him in high school. This isn’t high school, though, and you lost more than a boyfriend last summer. That’s what hurt the most, and the deep ache that’s throbbing in your chest tells you as much, because you really wish you could talk to the part of him that had once been your best friend right now, but there’s a cage around the words. Stopping them in your throat, as fear laces your tongue with each passing moment that he’s quiet on the other end of the line.

“What happened to college?” he questions you, and there’s a rustling noise in the background, “Wasn’t it your dream… to get into that program?”

You sigh, clenching your eyes shut. You don’t want to get into it all, especially not on the phone.

Swallowing, you murmur, “Eddie, I used my last twenty-five cents to call you, and I’m sure it’ll take at least another quarter to buy the time to explain.” The sound of his huffed chuckle is bittersweet, and shouldn’t make your stomach flip like it still does. It’s your destiny to be tortured by his every action, you suppose, because you’re torn between regretting ever calling him in the first place, and relishing in hearing the sound of his voice again when you ask, pitifully, “Would you mind… coming to get me, just this once?”

If he refused, at least your torture will be short-lived.

But he grunts into the phone, and you hear the sound of keys jingling, “Yeah, just give me, uh, a couple minutes.”

The relief that washes through you is tinged with nervousness, and your voice shakes when you breathe in, “Alright… I’ll be waiting here.” And you did wait, shifting foot to foot near the window, looking out into the pouring rain with the anxious anticipation of seeing him again.

You’ve had enough time to talk yourself in and out of whether it was a terrible idea to have called him, by the time you see the familiar van’s headlights through the pouring rain. The diner is a ten minute drive from his trailer, but he’s made it here in seven minutes, undoubtedly because he still drives like a bat out of hell, even in the heavy rain.

You don’t give him a chance to put the van into park before you’re pushing out the front door, bell chimes fading with the roar of the rain. Running through the downpour to reach his passenger side, and panting slightly when you wrench the door open to haul yourself inside.

It smells just like you remember, and the sense of peaceful relief that washes over you at the familiar scent of air freshener and faded cigarettes is gone as soon as your eyes cast upon him when you shut the door behind you. The Black Sabbath cassette playing drowns out in your ears at the sight of him, hair just slightly damp, raindrops on the leather of his jacket. Dark hair framing the dark eyes that look at you in a way that was almost too intense to fully distinguish what emotion swirled there, and for the first few moments, you’re both struck by silence.

There’s so much to say, and yet you can’t think of a single word. You had never thought you’d get to be this way with him, so closed off and yet yearning to tell him everything. Knowing far too much about each other, perhaps more than anyone else, and yet just as lost in this uncertain place, strangers to what you had become.

You weren’t even friends anymore, were you? But, he had shown up for you.

And he looked just as terrified as you felt.

You should say something. Anything—

“I guess I shoulda’ got out with an umbrella to get you,” he starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “You’re, uh, soaked.”

Looking down at your wet clothes, you shake your head, “I got caught in the rain when I was walking to the diner from my car, so… it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Oh…” and the silence settles in again. Tense and just as terrible as the swirling grief in your soul at sitting here again, with him. Pain seeping into your heart with the sight of him, with how he was just the same as he ever was, and yet you both felt so different, now.

Once upon a time, talking to Eddie had been as easy as breathing. He used to run his mouth all the time, but right now he’s silent as he pulls out of the diner’s parking lot. With each passing second, you feel the cracks in your heart spread, canyons in their wake with the unexplainable heartbreak that was your complete inability to find the words to say, because what was there to possibly say?

I’m still just as angry as the day you left me? I’d really like it if you gave back the pieces of my soul that remained with you? I wish I could force myself to stop loving you?

You would die first, before a single admission of the truth consuming you passed your lips.

And, so, you sat in silence.

A shiver creeps up your spine, wet clothes allowing the cool air from the A/C to seep into your bones far easier than it would have otherwise, and you draw your arms around yourself. Eddie notices, reaching to turn the air down with a sharp jerk of the dial from cool blue to the warm red, sparing a glance in your direction before his eyes are glued back to the road. Hands planted to the steering wheel, he’s just as stiff as if this were his driver’s test all over again.

He should say something. Say something, damn it!

“You, um,” you blurt out, before trying to collect your jumbled thoughts. They come out just as uncomfortable as you feel, “I’m sorry about this, Eddie… I know you probably have a million other things you’d rather be doing tonight than driving out this late to save my ass…” Your chuckle is forced, and it sounds like it, even to you, “But, uh, it’s real decent of you, you know? So… Thank you… You really didn’t have to come get me. I appreciate it.”

He scoffs, almost like he’s annoyed, “Of course I did.”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t gonna’ just leave you stranded like that, so of course I had to,” he stops at a red light, casting his dark eyes back to you like it should be obvious. Like he’s offended you would think any less of him. Like it hurt for you to act like he would treat you that way.

“Oh…” you murmur softly, trying not to read into his words. You’re desperately trying to hold yourself together as it is, and the agonizing joy at seeing him again churned with the grief until your whole mind was so muddled that you don’t know quite what to make of him right now.

The light turns green, and his eyes are back on the road before you can dive too deeply into them. Fighting the dwelling silence is an uphill battle, because it’s too easy to just ride this out in silence. You don’t want to do that, though. You don’t want to take the easy way out.

You’ve missed him so much. You’ve missed your best friend, and even if it tears you apart, you wish that some part of yourselves could be like that again. Even if you were left spending the rest of your life wishing for something more, if this is to be it between you, you can’t have your last memory of him be on bad terms.

Friends tastes bittersweet on your tongue, but you would like to be his friend again, at the very least. Perhaps you could get to that place, after the time that’s passed. It’s a hopeful lie to tell yourself, but your wretched heart clings to it regardless.

Giving up is easier than trying, but you always were a fighter, “How’s your uncle?”

“He’s alright, I guess,” is all you get from him, and you can’t help the way it deflates you into the seat beside him.

Coaxing him into conversation is easier said than done, but at the risk of annoying him, you try again, “That’s good. I haven’t seen him since… well, a while… so it’s good to hear he’s alright.” God, you sound absolutely dumb right now, but you can’t stop. Desperate to fill the silence in some way, to urge him into talking with you again. “My, um, mom isn’t doing so great… You know how she was sick… Well, it’s only getting worse, I guess. She’s had to go to the hospital a couple times…”

The car is blowing hot air by the time he looks back to you, defrosting the chill in your bones more than his awkward, “I’m sorry to hear that,” ever could.

Still, you blunder on, “It’s why I’m back here… in Hawkins, I mean. Yeah, I did my first semester and then crap hit the fan, like it always does. I had to transfer to the community college, because I have to be close enough to home to help out my mom right now… so… I’m staying here again.”

“Oh…” Eddie breathes, and you think that’s all you’re going to get, until he shifts in his seat, fingers flexing on the steering wheel, “I didn’t know you were back in town, until you called.”

“Yeah… I guess there’s no reason you would’ve… I’m usually going between work, home, and school, so…” glancing out the window, you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your wet shirt as you try to think of something else to say, growing frustrated at how hard it was to get him to engage in the conversation. “Oh! I saw Jeff, though. At work. He came in to get some horror flick, like a month ago.”

Eddie bites around a forced smile, sounding more than a little annoyed, “Jeff saw you? It must’ve just slipped his mind to tell me.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel, like he was trying to redirect the anxious energy anywhere other than his voice, but he sounds strained anyway.

You murmur under your breath, “He probably didn’t want to upset you…”

But he catches it anyway, eyes snapping towards you as his breaks hit hard at a stop sign, “Why would it upset me?”

You can’t help your own annoyance from seeping into your tone when you huff, “Well, we didn’t exactly leave off with hugs and kisses, Eddie…” He’s struck back into silence at that, and you mentally kick yourself for letting your bitterness seep through. Sighing, you apologize, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you’re right.”

You want to say more, but before you can, you realize he’s pulling into your mom’s driveway. Pushing the gear into park, you sit there for a second, before glancing from the rainy view of your house to the man beside you. He stares straight ahead, fingers tapping on the steering wheel still.

“Thank you, really, Eddie,” you begin, licking your lips as you try to muster the courage to ask him what you want to. It takes a moment, but you get there, “If you want, sometime we should meet up, you know?” Eddie chews the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes on your house, but you’re determined to get through it. You’d hate yourself if you didn’t take the chance, “Like old times… back when we were friends, you know? We should catch up, or something… Honestly, I… I wouldn’t mind being your friend again.”

Your heart beats so fast that you’re certain not even the best drummer in the world could compete with it. Thrumming in your ears, you grip your bag, waiting for a response. Anything, from him, but he just sits in silence, looking out the front windshield towards your house.

“Eddie?” you call his name, almost begging for him to speak. Look at you. Something.

But as another beat passes, it’s clear you’re not going to get it from him. Hurt, red-hot anger washes over you then, because who does he think he is to treat you like this?

What had you ever done to him to deserve it?

“Actually, just, forget it,” you hear the way your voice chokes off in your throat, feeling the burning behind your nose, but you’re determined not to cry. Not this time. “I don’t know why I even bothered to try to fix things between us. You clearly don’t care anything about me, but what else is new? You don’t even want to be my friend. I get it. Fine. Whatever.” Pushing open the door, you hop out into the rain, feet hitting the gravel driveway. Fueled with all the anguish you can muster when you call back at him, “Don’t worry, Munson, I won’t bother you ever again! Have a nice life.”

Slamming the door, you could scream, but you push yourself towards the house. You can’t fall apart, not yet. Not until you were inside. Not until he couldn’t see you—

You’re halfway up the driveway when you hear the sound of his door opening through the rain, feet hitting against gravel as he shouts your name. You ignore him. You can’t do this anymore. It hurt too much. Whatever had happened between you was too hard for you to try to unravel anymore, and you were done begging him to care about you.

But he keeps calling your name, and you’re practically running from him by the time your feet hit your front porch, only for a hand to catch you by your arm, turning you so quickly that you nearly slip down on the wet concrete. He’s steady, though, pushing you against the wooden column of the awning and breathing heavily down at you.

Eddie’s just as soaked as you are now, rain dripping down his hair and off his nose, parted lips and angry eyes glaring right back at your own when he says, “Won’t you wait, for just a damn second?”

“What?” you bite back, unable to help it.

His voice sounds just as desperate as you feel, but his words cut through you just like they did last summer, “I don’t want to be your friend. I can’t ever just be your friend—”

“Why do you hate me, Eddie?” you can’t stop yourself, sniffing back the burning urge to cry with the distress of it, “I don’t know what I did to make you to hate me so much—”

“I don’t hate you— I could never hate you!” there’s a rising panic in his voice, as you shake your head at him. Fingertips digging into your arm, his touch burns, but you don’t try to pull away. You couldn’t if you tried. You don’t have the willpower to move from this spot, with how your heart has melted into the ground.

Your voice rises with his, until you’re both shouting over the rain and the roar of your heart in your ears, “You do! Eddie, you do! I see it— You can barely look at me, let alone talk to me—”

“I love you!” he shouts, like it hurts him to say it, or maybe it hurts him to hear you think otherwise, because when he says it again, it’s a whimper of all the regrets he’s carried since the break-up, “I love you, damn it! I don’t hate you— You could run me over with my van right now and I still wouldn’t be able to hate you! I can’t be your friend because I’m in love with you!”

You’re left slack-jawed for all the time it takes for the rage to boil up, and now tears are brimming at your eyes, when you shove him away, “Don’t you dare mess with me right now, Munson! That’s a sick joke after everything—”

“I’m not joking—!” he regains the ground just as quickly, hands coming to your arms as if he can soothe you somehow. Like a simple touch can solve how broken he’s made you.

“If you love me, why did you break up with me?!” you’re screaming now, but you don’t care. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, and you can’t stop them, because you’re so overwhelmingly confused by him that you don’t know which way is up anymore.

“I messed up, okay!” he shouts back at you, his own tears brimming in his eyes, until he backs away to bring one ringed hand up to press his index and thumb against his eyes, wiping the water and tears away. “I fucked everything up last summer, because I was scared!”

Your fists clench at your sides as you lean against the column, watching him until he looks back to you, “You were… scared?”

“I was so sure I was gonna’ graduate with you last year. We were gonna’ finally get the hell out of this town,” he gasps out a bitter chuckle, gesturing widely with his arms, “and then Mrs. O’Donnell’s bullshit class just screwed me over again! I had to watch you walk that stage without me, right beside Steve The Hair Harrington, who is apparently your best buddy now—!”

“We work toge—”

“---and you were going all the way to Indiana State! You didn’t need me to be dragging you down here every couple of weeks, and what if you met someone there? I couldn’t handle it if we just grew apart because of the distance and some,” he grits his teeth, stepping towards you, “some random college guy… So maybe I self-destructed!” Eddie swallows hard, struggling to get out the rest, “I didn’t know what to do, so I… I ran away.”

“You…” you breathe, trying to remain calm, but the outrageous edge to your voice gives how upset you are away, “You broke up with me, because it was easier than us putting in the work?!”

“No,” he steps closer, staring at you with such a grief-stricken intensity that it takes your breath away, “I broke up with you, because if I was gonna’ lose you anyway, I wanted to lose you on my terms, but all I wound up doing was ruining my life, and hurting you, like the stupid son of a bitch I am.” His voice breaks, when he continues, “I thought you would be better off without me. That you’d move on and forget about me, or something… but when you told me you loved me that day at my house, I almost couldn’t do it. I thought,” he clears his throat, “I thought that I wasn’t being selfish by letting you go, but I know that’s a lie. I was only trying to save myself the pain of losing you, but that clearly didn’t work out, ‘cause I haven’t gone a single day since without missing you.”

You’re so mad at him, but the pieces of you that would always love him— that are still in love with him— keep you quiet. He was rambling his heart out to you after so long of you wishing he would just speak to you, tell you what’s wrong, and now he was. You still remembered what he’d said to you the day he broke your heart, though, and he had been far too convincing for his words now to mend your worried heart this easily.

“When you called me tonight, I… I didn’t know what to say, or do. I don’t know how to fix this after how badly I’ve messed everything up,” Eddie brushes his tears away again, huffing out the anguished sound of your name, “I don’t blame you if you hate me after all this. You were supposed to be my girl, and— I treated you wrong. I’m so sorry.” Pushing back his hair, he looks out past the pouring rain, towards the van’s headlights, voice catching in his throat before he takes a breath, “I wish I could go back to that night and take every stupid thing I said back. I wasted so much time that I could’ve spent loving you being terrified of the way you make me feel.” His lip quivers as he tries to breathe steady to no avail, “I should’ve been here for you. Shit! I didn’t even know about your mom, for God’s sake—!”

He’s crying too much to stop it when his dark eyes look back at you, unable to keep the redness from his cheeks any longer, or the tears from falling, despite how he tries to push them from his jaw, “I’ve missed you so bad. You are— you were my best friend, and now I really have lost you.”

Trying to breathe steady is as much a struggle for you as it seems to be for him, but you carefully construct the words on your tongue, “You told me you didn’t love me.”

“I lied,” it comes out broken, in as much anguish as you’ve been these past months. “I was so fucking stupid—”

“You’re not stupid, Eddie,” he watches you carefully as you move towards him, close enough that you can reach up, brushing your hand against his jaw to wipe the tears trailing there with your thumb. “You just overthink everything, and it’s something I’ve always loved about you, even when it backfires.“

“Well, boy, did it backfire, this time,” it’s a dry joke, and a weak smile that he forces at the corner of his lips as he leans into your touch. His fingers come to rest along your shoulder, sloping up your throat as you tilt your head into his warmth. A shuddering breath falls from him when you drag his lips down to yours by the grip you take up on his leather jacket.

He kisses you like not a day has passed, as if the burden of your heavy hearts weren’t weighing you down this very instant, but there’s an edge to it. Some desperation to the way you cling to one another after everything that’s been said and done. Fingers catching in his wet hair, you drag him as close as possible, but even that doesn’t seem enough. You don’t care if he can tell how terrified you are, so scared that the moment you release him he’ll leave again. That all this won’t be real again.

But his hands on your skin are warm, and just as real as he’s ever been. Tilting your jaw into his kiss as his lips move feverishly against your own. If your neighbors were to look out their windows, they’d be shocked to see you and Eddie Munson making out on your front porch at nearly twelve in the morning, but you don’t care who sees. You never have.

You don’t care if the whole world knows how in love with him you are. All that matters is if he knows it.

And you desperately want to believe that he loves you, too. Eddie could break your heart all over again, if it meant he truly loved you for even this moment.

His lips part from yours, breathing against them, so low that if you weren’t so close he would’ve been drowned out by the rain, “Can you ever forgive me?” Blinking up at him, you watch the way the night’s shadows cast along the worried lines of his face with the headlights that still shine on the both of you from the driveway.

“Only if you promise to tell me you love me again.”

“I’ll tell you I love you as many times as you like,” he smiles softly, leaning in to kiss you once more, shorter this time. “I love you. I’m so sorry I ever told you anything different.”

“I love you, too, Eddie,” you hum, “but if you’re coming inside, you better go turn off your van’s headlights before the battery dies.”

He grins this time, one of those wide ones that had always made your heart swell to see, “I’d better go do that, then.” Instead, he takes another moment to kiss you again, before letting you go to jog across the gravel driveway through the rain to his van. Your key’s hit the lock of the front door by the time the lights go out, and he’s jogging back your way when you open it.

Reaching out to him, he takes your hand, and you intertwine your fingers against the silver bands of his rings to drag him into your house, “I missed you, too, you know.”

Eddie follows you, and you have a hunch he’d follow you anywhere, “I got a lot of time I gotta’ make up for.”

You chuckle when he kicks the door closed behind him, locking it, “You can start by telling me you love me again.”

“Like I said, sweetheart, as many times as you like—”