#nick scratch angst

[hinamie]

congrats on your recovery n all yuuji but unfortunately for you I thought the scars were cool >:/

[xprakzif]

puppy love

chris sturniolo

pairings: chris x fem!reader (unestablished)

warnings: fluff/angst, cursing, none really

summary: chris doesn’t know how to express his feelings and now she thinks he hates her.

chris always seemed to have that narcissistic persona. any girl who came across him knew better than to try it, even if they attempted to get at him, he was quick to let it known he was uninterested. so why was he acting like this with her?

he didn’t even know. nick was great at making new friends, and she just happened to be at the same beach at the time they were. the triplets, along with nate, traveled to a smaller town that was typically quiet but had beautiful views and landmarks.

they were driving around until they spotted the rather empty beach. they walked along the tide talking for what felt like hours. they honestly lost track of time, and direction.

walking their way was a girl, she looked majestic in the sunset that made her skin glow. she wore a light pink bikini underneath a crocheted sweater that only covered her top half. in her right hand was a baby pink retractable leash, leading down to a small, harnessed, yorkie puppy that started to run up to the boys. she was ethereal, to chris atleast.

“look- maybe we can ask her how to get back to the car?” nate pointed to her, she was busy enjoying the sunset and didn’t notice them, until the dog began to bark.

“shhh, kiwi-“ she finally saw the group of boys coming up to her, gaining anxiety. usually people wanted to meet kiwi, she hoped that’s why they approached her.

“hi- oh!” nick started to speak until kiwi interrupted, barking in a high pitch while she struggled to get closer being pulled back by the pink harness.

“sorry, she’s friendly- she just wants you to pet her,”

matt wasted no time in bending down to greet the giddy puppy wagging her tail at the attention. he cooed and scratched at her fluffy ears.

“cute.. um this is gonna sound crazy, but we kinda lost our car-” nick explained.

“we aren’t from around here, my names nate” he interrupted nick, deepening his voice. chris was only watching, he’d never been so quiet before. even he realized.

“..okay, im y/n. where’d you guys park?”

“it was small lot in front of the surf shop building, when you get off the main road?” replied nate.

“oh- i parked there too! i can show you guys, we were just heading back home.” chris was surprised she had walked all this way, he was unaware that they were only walking for 40 minutes.

she was set in between matt and nick, walking ahead a bit to lead them. matt was eyeing kiwi the entire time. she noticed him walking close to her paying attention to everytime kiwi sniffed the sand or tried to drink the slow tide that came by.

“here,” she handed off the leash to him, gaining a huge smile in return. “don’t lose my baby, please.”

within the 40 minute walk back to the lot, nick made most the conversation, getting to know the girl. once again, chris realized how quiet he’d been. so did everyone else.

“here we are, this your van?” she pointed to the empty parking lot with only her car and theirs.

“yea, thank you so much. we honestly would’ve been deserted if it wasn’t for you- can i get your number? i’d love to hang out sometime!” the boys filled the car while nick stood outside with his new friend.

“of course!” she waited for him to pull up a new contact and verbalized her information. “i’ll see you, drive safely!” and with that she patted the drivers seat of her black toyota signaling kiwi to hop in, and went home with more than she came for.

meanwhile, the van was chaotic. matt and nate up front singing a song that came on, while nick interrogated chris.

“whats up with you? you haven’t said a word since we met y/n.”

he knew it too. he didn’t understand it thought. “i don’t know.. i’m fine.” nick could usually tell if he was lying, but this time it was unreadable. he let him off easily and went on his phone to text her about hanging out soon.

flashing forward to present day, chris had his mind made up. it all made sense why he acted that way. it was like his soul attached to her. he must stay focused though, so he denied, denied, denied.

she was at the triplets home. madi and nate were there too.

“we should make trevor and kiwi meet!” she suggested to matt who was laying next to her on the couch. his eyes lit up with kiwi cuddled to his chest.

“y’all are so obsessed with these dogs.” chris took a seat next to her listening in and placing his can of pepsi on the coffee table. his heart raced a bit when she looked him in the eyes. his remarks always came out defensive and ignorant. he couldn’t help it, he wasn’t used to this feeling and couldn’t make it obvious.

her on the other hand, thought he hated her. she grew aware of his personality but hers was naturally flirty and extroverted. he knew this as well. she was friendly with everyone. how was he supposed to know if she felt the same way?

“are you jealous that i like kiwi and trevor more than you?” she smirked. those eyes were the ones that made him nervous. the ones that drew him in every time.

his breathing caught in his throat, “nah..” he shook his head and reached for his drink to hide the smile plastered on his face.

she had an effect on him she had no idea about.

“so trevor’s going back to your parents during the tour..” she started indicating an idea that made matt excited and chris irritated. her and matt had a bond that was different from the others. they had a lot in common, something chris grew jealous of and tried to prevent in anyway possible.

it was his own fault though. he decided to stay quiet and let his fear of rejection control him. that could’ve been him in that position.

“absolutely not. we’re not bringing the dogs on tour, y/ n.” he assured sternly.

she shifted in her seat to face him, “chris! come on, i’ll be there to take care of them while you guys work, madi will be there too! right madi?” she motioned to the girl who was sat at the table with nick.

“don’t even try!” chris stated before madi could even speak.

“what’s wrong with that, i love kiwi and trevor!” madi disagreed with chris from the table.

“see its two against one!”

“three!” matt mumbled with kiwi licking at his face.

“don’t you want me to be happy?” she pouted and widen her eyes to tease him. he did want her to be happy, he was just being an asshole.

he looked into her eyes, the ones that made him fall too hard for her. almost stunned and lost for words he looked away, “whatever, fine.”

she squealed and hugged him tightly, shocking him in the process.

this was going to be a very long tour.

“okay- wait what if they fight?” she was holding kiwi tightly in her arms covered by a comfy sweater. they were currently loading the tour bus, situating their bunks, and trying to introduce the dogs.

matt was sitting on the floor with trevor in his lap.

“you said she was friendly with other dogs,”

“she is.. i just don’t want them to fight!” she gave in and sat on the floor with kiwi. chris came onto the bus to see what was going on. they had disappeared into the bus moments ago without telling anyone.

he stopped in his tracks and observed the scene.

she finally let kiwi down, sniffing the floor of the new area and approaching the other small dog. trevor did the same, eventually they began to smell each other to get familiar.

she spared a glance at matt who smiled in return. chris noticed this, his heart sank a bit. did she like him? he thought.

soon enough, kiwi and trevor were playing together after kiwi licked his nose.

“aww they love eachother!” she cheered and scooted forward to hug matt. a grunt was heard by the two, chris didn’t know he did that out loud.

“oh- chris, look!” pointing at the puppies, “let’s have them married.” she was playing around, he wasn’t having any of it.

“yea, we’re about to start moving so can you guys move?” once again, he didn’t mean for it to come off so abruptly. she frowned and picked up kiwi, pushing past him to get to the seats, trevor trailing behind her.

“dude, why you being so rude to her?” matt was genuinely curious, but it came off defensive. he loved her, but only as a friend. not like chris did.

“i’m not..” matt was about to just walk away, but he spoke again, “i just- matt?”

“yeah?” they stared at eachother.

“i think i’m in love with her.”

matt cheesed widely in excitement, chris took it the wrong way.

“no- you can’t tell her!”

that wasn’t even on his list, “i won’t. i’m just happy you can admit your feelings for once.” patting his brother on the shoulder and going to sit with the others.

in the bus, she sat next to madi. they were giggling at trevor chasing kiwi in a circle. nick was across from them scrolling through tiktok.

chris walked in, seeing the beautiful smile on her face light up the room. everyone noticed he walked in, he was more focused on her.

she glanced at him, the smile fading a bit.

“we’re moving, everyone sit! we don’t want any accidents.” a voice called out from the front of the bus, most likely the driver.

chris sat next to her on instinct. there was obvious tension.

“madi, look at this” nick motioned for her to sit next to him which she did. leaving the two to sit alone.

chris wasn’t one for apologizing, he wasn’t sure how. he had to say something though.

“you glad we brought the dogs?” that was his way of apologizing?

she was very forgiving to say the least. there’s been worse things he’d say to her. some of which made her go cry in the bathroom.

“very..”

silence. besides nick and madi scream-laughing across them.

“so- um, which state you most excited to see?” he was trying anything to start a conversation.

“oh- probably florida, i loved visiting there when i was younger,”

he didn’t know that though, he never took the time to get to know her for real. not like matt or nick did.

he was starting to hate himself for it. why couldn’t he just express himself correctly? it was a struggle for sure.

the bus made it to their first stop. everyone got out to stretch, matt and y/n letting the dogs use the bathroom.

they were away from the group, far enough for no one to hear their conversation.

“i’m so happy we brought them,” she started

“me too, not happy about this part though” he cringed at the sight of trevor using the bathroom that he would have to clean up.

“um.. can i ask you something?” she was comfortable enough with matt to have deeper talks, this was something she couldn’t get out of her mind.

“of course,”

she took a deep breath, “is chris like, mad at me.. or something? ever since we met he acts as if he hates me, do you see it too?”

after what chris told him earlier, it made sense. “no, no he doesn’t hate you,” he wasn’t sure how to word it in a way that wouldn’t out his brother. “that’s just how he is, but trust me he doesn’t hate you. we love you, y/n”

“i love you guys too.” his words were comforting, she felt some sense of relief. matt was always sweet to her, it was easy to get close with him. her mind still wandered to chris, there had to be more, right?

the rest of the ride was relaxed, for most of them atleast. madi and matt were asleep in the bunks, nick was sitting on a seat using his laptop.

chris was in a bunk, trying his best to sleep but his brain was wide awake. he didn’t know how he would manage going on tour with her, spending everyday with her, all with her being oblivious to his feelings that he couldn’t even let out correctly.

she was in the same room as nick, her head on his shoulder watching his skills as he edited a video for his business.

“hmm, i think i’m gonna go lay down before i go insane. you coming?” he shut the computer.

“i will in a minute..” she wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep this entire trip.

nick nodded and slid the door to the bunks open. she sat for a second, looking out the window to the starry sky blurring past. the lights were off leaving the only light casting from the window to dimly shine in the bus. the door slid open behind her, it was probably nick forgetting his phone before he left.

“y/n?” she turned to see the silhouette of chris.

she gulped unable to speak. “what you doing up?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” she said while he sunk into the spot next to her.

“can’t sleep..”

“me neither, are you nervous about performing?”

“why would i be?” he barked. there it was again.

“chris, am i supposed to read your fucking mind?” she even shocked herself, she was fed up with his attitude.

“i wish you could, maybe then you’ll understand how stupid you are!”

“seriously what’s wrong with you? why do you act like you hate me?!” she was a little too loud.

“what the hell is going on?” nick came from the sliding door, he hadn’t went to sleep yet and heard her shouting.

“nothing- mind your business!” nick looked like he was ready to tear chris apart.

she felt her face heat up, her eyes began to water. she got up and stormed to the back of the bus letting the tears flow. she couldn’t hold back.

“you better go apologize to her chris! i swear i’ll ruin this whole tour for you! if you have a problem with her than say that, she’s our best friend, even if she’s not to you.” he lectured him knowing how he treated her. everyone knew, they just didn’t see why.

chris sat there silently while nick went off. he didn’t even bite back. nick just stood there with his arms crossed waiting for chris to speak, move, anything.

“your right..” he whispered.

“what was that?”

“i said your right, damn.”

“that’s what i thought. now get to moving, i wanna go to bed, in peace!” nick emphasized. he waited for chris to get up and head to the back, following behind to go back in his bunk.

chris hesitated before sliding open the door to the back area of the bus. he heard sniffles from the other side, it felt like nick punched him in the chest before going to bed. he wasn’t aware he made her cry.

stepping into the small room, he saw her barley lit up from the moonlight and occasional passing car.

she looked up to see him, worried and a bit embarrassed. worried he would yell at her again. she didn’t like that he could make her crumble with such ease.

“y/n..” she hated when he said her name.

he sat next to her on the leather seat that was less spacious than the ones up front.

“don’t cry.. i-i’m sorry, okay?” he shocked himself making his body heat up. she wiped her nose with the soft sleeve of her sweater and turned to him.

“i don’t hate you, i don’t. i’m sorry for treating you wrong, i promise i’ll stop, okay?”

she nodded, feeling a smile creep on her puffy lips.

even in the dark, her smile lit up the room. he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and she embraced him tightly around his torso.

he loved the feeling. it was this easy? he thought. the flame grew with every second they touched, he wished it could last forever. but she pulled away and he craved it all over again.

“cmon, you need to sleep.” she got up indicating she was going to sleep before stopping. “goodnight, i love you.”

that. that almost broke him.

he knew it was platonic, she said it to all of them.

“goodnight.. i love you too.” but he meant it differently. she wouldn’t know that though.

“rise and shine, campers!”

kiwi and trevor were having a barking match trying to get to each other being too scared to jump off the bunk and waking everyone up.

“too early for you to be this energetic” madi groaned to nick while hopping down from her bunk.

“girl it’s 10am! we have a few hours till our first show!” nick exclaimed making his way off the bus. madi followed him.

the crew stopped to get breakfast before heading to the venue of the day.

“matt,” she poked at the sleeping boy in his bunk. “matt! wake up!”

he groaned, “what? where are we?” shuffling in the sheets.

“get up, we’re getting food. and you have to let trevor out!”

“it’s fine, i got it” chris came almost out of nowhere and picked up the small dog with the leash already in his hand.

her and matt both glanced at eachother confused before matt layed back down. she rolled her eyes playfully, her attention going back to chris who struggled with putting on the harness.

“trevor- stay still!”

she giggled and helped him after finishing with kiwi. maybe he was going to change after all.

“it’s time boys!” the triplets were at the venue backstage. they waited for the opening act to finish performing so they could go on.

“5 minutes till show time.” the crew member advised them to get ready to go on stage.

madi and y/n were backstage hyping them up. “you got this, you’ll do great! love you, have fun!” she hugged matt and nick as they left the stage room with madi, leaving her and chris alone.

“are you ready?”

he nodded and fixed his hair under his cap. “how do i look?”

“ugh, you never change, do you? you look fine!” she joked, smacking him on his chest. “okay, now go! they’re waiting for you!”

“alright, i’m definitely not stalling..”

“chris, you’ll do great! i love you so much, i’m so proud of you!” she was referring to all of them, but he took it personal. she embraced him in a hug- he was stunned. why couldn’t he move? something took over him, he just stared at her.

“i love you.” he whispered.

“good luck, chris.” she turned to grab kiwi from the floor, did she hear him?

“i love you, y/n.” he said it louder this time.

“i heard you, hun..”

he grasped her hand lightly before she could bend down to pick up her dog, making her face him. looking him in the eye.

“no, i don’t think you did- i love you.”

her expression was lost. “..what?

he couldn’t stop saying it. “i love you, y/n,” but he finally said the right one.

“i’m in love with you.”

can y’all tell i love animals yet or no

idk but tell him part three should be out soon stay tunedddd xoxo

[endereies]

One More Day - Matt Sturniolo

contains: Mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of depression and anxiety, happy ending, heavy angst - sorry not sorry

author's notes: i really enjoyed writing this, especially with sad music like take care or duster playing. that shit hits.

word count: 3954

Dealing with mental health wasn’t a new situation in your relationship with Matt. He has had anxiety problems since he was 11 and has always been open about it, whether that was to his family or to his fans. However, that was a skill that you lacked.

Matt was always talking to you whenever he felt anxious in a situation, finding that his concerns seemed to lessen when he was around you. He had often silently latched on to your hand in a public environment as he focused on the warmth between your palms.

He confided in you after a stressful day of filming and taking pictures addressing how he particularly felt in each moment.

And you would always accept these small rants of anxious build up because you didn’t want him to feel the same way that you did.

You had internally struggled with your own anxiety for a few years, more recently symptoms of depression.

You never told Matt about any of this, not that you didn’t trust him with the information, you just didn’t want to overbear him when he had his own anxiety to manage.

You blamed yourself for selfish thoughts whenever he felt anxious at the same times as you, often relying on the same hand holding that he did to simultaneously calm you both down.

Over these years of having anxiety, you learnt what your tells were when feeling anxiety build up inside and tried to hide them whenever you could. And when you couldn’t? You’d hide in your room and cancel plans until that overbearing feeling went away.

-

This type of day had grown to be typical for you, one that consisted of a growing pit in your stomach caused by emotions you no longer felt in control of. You were left in your bed scratching at your wrists, the actions only growing harder the more you couldn’t satisfy the ‘itch’ that tore through under your skin. One left behind from previous nights.

As much as anxiety wasn’t a new feeling to you, your self-harm methods were. Of course, you had known about it, and how bad it was to deal with. The addiction of the lines that changed colour the more the razor dug into the flesh, or the harshness of reality that stepped in and out of your mind. It wasn’t enough to deter you and last night you gave in once more. Wanting to feel something else consistently other than that pit that sunk more every day.

The feeling was addictive, but it grew harder to hide from people, especially Matt. The constant handholding or affection made you paranoid and so you pulled back from him. You didn’t want him to find out.

The more you pulled back, however, the more that Matt grew concerned.

You had overheard him talking to Chris and Nick about how he thought you were starting to fall out of love with him, but to you those accusations couldn’t be further from the truth. To you Matt was a break from that feeling, making you smile subconsciously on days when all you wanted to do was turn off from everything. It was selfish the amount of time you craved with him, selfish the amount of things you wouldn’t tell him, selfish the number of times you cancelled plans made in advance over something you desperately needed to control.

But as much as you loved him, and had tried to privately talk to professionals, this feeling grew way more than you had ever wanted, and it had begun to wear you and others down.

-

“Are you cancelling again, y/n? We’ve had this day planned for a week now.” Matt voice was tainted with disappointment, and it took me a while before I got the courage to respond to him.

“I’m sorry Matt, something just came up and it’s urgent.” My breathe shook after I had finished, hating the more lies I had created the last month.

“Can I at least come over tomorrow..?” As much as I didn’t want to, I felt like I needed to see him, in a hope that I would feel somewhat better.

“Yeah, course..” And with that I hung up the phone, before either of us got another chance to speak.

That night I got to writing, the mood from earlier spilling over my brain and into my tears that were evident on the paper. The words were messy but said all I needed them to. I just hoped that whoever read it, understood all I was ever silently saying to them. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.

-

After a rough night’s sleep and a few hours in bed I dragged myself out of it and towards the shower. I sighed once my skin made contact with the water trying to relax my arm under the sting of the water pressure.

 I made sure not to spend more time than I had to in the shower, needing enough time to get dressed and get something to eat before Matt arrived.

The outfit didn’t seem like much, but it did hide a lot more. I grabbed an old hoodie and tossed it over a plain black t-shirt. The sweatpants I threw on matched my shirt and hung loosely on my hips.

Dishes has started to stack up in my sink, but I wasn’t prepared to wash them all and I was thankful that Matt never minded, as long as we were able to talk with one another. The food I picked out was just a small bowl of cereal that I have had for several days now but it was one of the only foods I was okay with eating. I felt too tired to finish the bowl and simply abandoned it next to the identical unfinished bowl over by the sink.

It wasn’t long before I heard a knock at my front door, and I instantly knew it was Matt. I gathered my mind and opened the door for him with a smile on my face.

“Hey baby, how was the ride over?” I shut the door behind him after he enters to lean on the door to take off his shoes.

“Traffic was okay, I’m just glad I get to see you again” As much as I know he meant well, his words stung a bit and made my heart drop slightly. Luckily, his back was still facing me, and he couldn’t see it happen.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you yesterday” Matt’s body faces mine once he pushes his shoes to the side and walks towards me with a meek smile displayed on his face.

“y/n, it’s okay, things come up. I get it.” He put his arm around my waist and rubs my waist lightly, just caressing the skin underneath, I pull away as quick as the touch begin and I feel his touch linger onto my skin, making my guilt apparent.

I wander around the kitchen for a moment, thinking of an excuse for leaving Matt until my eyes fall onto a selection of sodas and drinks.

“Want anything to eat or drink at all..?” my fingers trace the glass bottles slowly before landing onto the cans and picking a Pepsi.

“I’ll have a Pepsi with you, baby.” I smile as I hand him a Pepsi with my free arm and taking it back once I realise, I wasn’t watching how far my sleeve went up. I was grateful that he wasn’t paying any attention.

-

It had been an hour since Matt arrived and we had settled on watching a film, one that Matt had picked out several times before, but we never got bored of it. My duvet covers were shifted around to place both Matt and I underneath for comfort, but I took it as an opportunity for Matt to get close to me without being consumed with paranoia.

His fingers tangled in my hair and gently rubbing my scalp nearly nulled me to sleep. I felt safe enough to relax my body for the first time in over a week and my body ached after being tense for so long.

The feeling of his fingers stroking my hair brought me back to my childhood, one where I felt safely vulnerable in front of my mother who allowed me to watch cartoons while she braided my hair. Moments like these took away from the stress of those previous weeks.

“Do you want me to brush your hair, pretty girl?” I look up at him and weakly nod, feeling a little tired from him stroking my hair.

I have always loved when he plays with my hair and it became a token of affection after long days, and often I would return the favour whenever he asked.

He nods at me with a slight hum for a response before his body shifts under the covers. I sit up and lean off of his chest so that he can leave the bed. I take his place in the bed soon after just so that I can retain the warmth he left behind.

I notice him walking over to my desk and resting his wrists against the top of my chair as support while he scans it for my brush. I don’t pay any attention to it until he moves a drawer, not being able to locate it.

“Baby? It might be in the spare room; I was tidying there in there a while ago.” I try not to mumble within the tiredness I felt and offer him a small smile which he reciprocates.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a second then, want to pause the film?” I only nod in response, looking on the pillows for the remote to pause the show and once it does, Matt disappears to the hallway.

Matt’s Pov:

The spare room door was already open, and I simply pushed it open to glance into the room, the door was immediately put to a halt when it hit a box behind it. Luckily, I had enough of a gap to go through but I was met with more boxes and random items everywhere. This was so unusual for me to see in y/n’s house; she was persistent over how the house had looked and presented itself.

I stand among the clutter before focusing on what I entered the room for, yet once again it wasn’t obvious to me.

The boxes seemed to be filled with clothes and the items were old art projects I had seen her buy for fun, so I crossed those areas off as places to look.

I had been in this room before, yet it seemed so unrecognisable from the other places in the house I had been so used to over the years of knowing y/n. But the large white bookcase was still a standout against the dark blue walls. They didn’t seem as scattered as the rest of the room and so finding the brush became an easier task. Bright blue stood out against the white and I walked towards it to grab it, but I noticed a small stack of papers laid next to it. All folded sporadically with names scribbled all over them. It shouldn’t have peaked my interest but I had never known y/n to journal or write to people, so curiosity got the better of me. The top where names of family members, ones that even I knew well, but once I got through family members, I saw my name in a section next to Nick’s and Chris’s.

It stayed shut in my hand for me moment, my eyes not even deterring to place the pile back onto the shelf. The handwriting seemed rushed and scribbled and it only made me question these actions more. I shouldn’t have looked at the paper and I had already felt guilty for it, before it even happened.

I shouldn’t have opened it.

I started to read the letter to myself, and I sat on the spare bed on the small section that wasn’t already covered with the boxes and my heart sank.

Matt, I am so sorry for doing this, to you or anyone else. I’m still not sure about what I might do but I know that you’d want closure if I did. It’ll make itself clear. And I hope the main point you get from this is that this was never your fault.

I’ve just been feeling so shitty for weeks, maybe months at this point and honestly? I don’t see myself getting any fucking better.

Everything is stressing me out every day and it’s limiting everything I do, I can’t go outside often without someone there to ease my anxiety, nor can I even walk freely in my own home without any fear of being watched by people, and I’m rotting.

You were actually the only help I really had, not that you ever knew it.

I wanted us to last a bit longer than this, our three-year anniversary is in a few months but I’ll be lucky to not do this all by September.

I’ve planned a few things for you, love. I’ve saved all my money aside and sold things you would have trouble doing yourself. I didn’t want that burden on you. I wore several hoodies for you to have and slowly given things to you that I know you adore. That necklace you got me a year ago? The one of the gold star with the thin chain? I saved it for you, you were the wish I got from the stars I lay under in my childhood and I never want you to forget that.

I know this is selfish and I’ve done every way to rid of this feeling, good and bad. I’ve talked to people, talked to people who have gone through similar things and even talked to you about what helps you. I even started to harm myself. ‘Stupid’, I know. It only made me hide from you. Everything, from you.

My love, I’m sorry for this last burden on you, but after today you can rest happily without the castaway feeling I’ve shone on you the past few months.

I love you forever, y/n.

Y/n’ Pov:

“Shit, shit, shit” the words come out stuttered and repeat as I fling the covers from over my waist, realizing my errors.

Matt was taking a longer time than usual and when I looked at my phone, I realised it had nearly been ten minutes. I started to be confused and wondered what could’ve delayed him for so long. I mentally scan the spare room while I shift so that I can sit on the edge of the bed. I remember the boxes that were scattered and the things that were a mess compared to the other sections of my house. Was that a call for his curiosity? That’s when it hit me. The notes that I had left on the bookshelf was obvious and open for anyone to see. I started to panic.

I instantly flung the rest of the duvet off of me and slide off the mattress, muttering cuss words under my breath. I approached the spare room with a heavy chest and opened the door to meet Matt who was sat down on the bed with one hand holding his hair and the other gripping onto a slip of paper that I immediately recognised. His tears had dampened the paper similar to how mine did whilst writing, filled with heartbreak and torment.

It takes him a second to calm down enough and acknowledge that I had ran into the room, both of us with lingering heavy chests.

“Wha-” His voice escaped his lips in a raspy stutter.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked more firmly, some sort of emotion, thick in his voice. Though I couldn’t pull apart whether it was anger or betrayal, could’ve been both.

I tried to response but all that I was able to communicate were small stutters. My palms became sweaty, and the anxious feeling grew in my stomach on the brink of physical pain.

“y/n, tell me this isn’t what I fucking think it is.” His tone remained harsh and cold, but his tears made it sound brittle.

I didn’t want to say anything in fear of how Matt would react, but my silence answered his question for him.

“You have this all planned, don’t you?” His voice was unwavering making me shrink back into the corner by the door I entered prior.

“Don’t you.” I jolt when his voice becomes flat, making the only distinguishable teller of his emotions the tears that continued to fall past his cheeks.

My head nods in response, the small action making Matt take another shaky breath and face me dead on. He sucks in a harsh breath before facing me and speaking again.

“What’s going on.. wha- wh-..” His voice trails off with a break in his voice, making me internally wince.

“It’s nothing I just..needed an expel of stress..” My voice is monotonous but its shaking through the lies that we both know aren’t true. I just needed time to gather what I wanted to say to him.

“This is more than nothing, talk to me y/n.” When he stands up, I suddenly feel like a rabbit under a predatory stare and with my back against the wall, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. He notices a fearful expression in my eyes and creates distance between us, giving me a chance to step forward which I reluctantly took.

I was conflicted between the fear of how he felt towards me and the comfort I found in him, it was tearing me up inside and he could tell my thoughts were scattered. His own thoughts followed.

“Why didn’t you tell me a- any of this.” His words were swallowed harshly, and more tears threatened to spill over and I felt so guilty.

“You have your own shit to deal with. I couldn’t bore you with mine.” I look off to the side with a flat expression overtaken with so many emotions that I had started to shut down.

“Bore me? Baby this is your wellbeing we are talking about. Y-“ He takes a moment to regain his composure again “You could never bore me, especially with something as serious as this” He looks down at the paper, now slightly crumbled from the tight grip Matt had and the tears that fell.

“Is all of this true y/n, I mean the..self-harm”

I take a deep breath and exhale quickly when I nod my head and say yes with a whimper. My palm subconsciously rubs the fabric over my wrist, and I start to shake my hands with the raw shame of what I had done.

“I need you to know something, okay?” I meet his gaze which was full of compassion and for the first time in this conversation, I felt a little safer.

“I’m not mad at you”.

And with that my body practically collapses onto his and I hold his body tight. My arms wrapped around his waist and gripped the fabric while I choked out sobs into his chest. His own hands lay on my back, one holding the paper and the other rubbing the bottom of my neck back and forth. My heart simply broke with the pure kindness Matt still showed for me.

He broke down above me, hearing small sniffles when he lay his head on top of mine. He held most of my weight with his body and he lowered me on the ground and sat next to me, letting my legs rest under the pressure.

“I’d never, ever be mad at you for this, I just wish you came to me to talk about this. Any of it” Some words were mistakenly for others through the tears that ran down his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, i-“

“Hey hey.. look at me.” My eyes try and focus on Matt, but they stutter and shut tight, releasing the tears that blocked my vision. My throat starts to feel tighter and restricts my breathing slightly.

“Don’t apologise, jus- just talk to me.. what’s happened baby”.

I use a free hand to wipe my face and the breathes that I take in are shaky but are enough to relax my body.

“My anxiety just keeps flaring up, to the point where it’s almost constant and in any situation. Its why I’m cancelling so much on you. I keep feeling so guilty whenever I mess up and so after everything built up, I started to- to self-harm and I just kept getting worse. I didn’t want to bother you when you had your own anxiety to cope with” words spill from my mouth in some sort of word vomit, but it was the only way to say what I needed without feeling so overwhelmed.

I had started to scratch at my wrists gently and I didn’t notice until Matt took my hand in his and caressed the skin lightly, his touch allowing me to ground myself.

“Is this why you shut people out?”

“Yeah..it’s why I’ve been cancelling and distant.” I lay my head down onto his, seeking comfort from his touch.

“What can I do?” Calmness starts to rise through his words, getting rid of most the emotion that tore us down a few moments prior.

“What?”

“I want to help you, you don’t deserve this, baby.” The grip on my palm moves to my arm and shoulder and rubs it while pulling me slightly closer.

“You being here is enough. I was so scared to tell anyone about this, I was so paranoid that they would shut me out. But-“ my eyes welled up again but this time it wasn’t for anxiety. I wasn’t shaking anymore, and my throat eased up the pressure, finally letting me take my first stable breath.

“I’ll never leave, I’m always here to listen and talk when you, literally anything you want.”

My hand raises to hug him tighter, but my shirt gets caught on the skin of my scars and makes me wince and pull back.

“Hey, you alright y/n?” he sits up and hold my hand that pulled away from him and grabs the end of the fabric.

“Mhm just pulled some skin I- I’m fine.”

He looks between the hand he holds and my own gaze asking for permission but before he does anything, I pull the shirt back up towards my elbow. I hear a faint gasp from Matt followed by a shaky exhale, realizing the real damage caused by my mental health.

“Let’s bandage this up, yeah?” he stands up beside me and holds his hand before me to help me up, which I oblige.

-

I look at my arm again and my mind clears from my issues. The severity of my actions caused by my own hands. The person I once admired simply was torn through the skin and it was hard for me to look away. I only did when Matt placed his hand on my chin and made me face him, seeing how long I was staring for.

“M’sorry..” a tight-lipped smile crosses his face before he pulls me in for a hug and rubs my back in a soothing way. Falling into a quiet atmosphere.

“I love you, Matt”.

“I love you more, kid.”

We stay in silence for a bit, only breaking it to sniffle from our tears or to adjust ourselves onto one another.

I was finally feeling the peace I craved for months, and I was happy it was with Matt.

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerssturns @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @raysmayhem-72 @luverboychris @rootbeerworshiper

[ericshoney]

Fight ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You get into a fight at school, your brothers find out and aren't happy, until you tell them the reason.

Warnings: Fighting, violence, drama, bullying, name calling, shouting, sorry to all the Jenna's, angst with a happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't mind school that much. Sometimes it was hard, especially with your brothers' fans. You had a few friends who were real with you and didn't care who your brothers were, however, many tried to be your friends due to you having famous brothers.

However, today was a rough day. Your maths teacher was being a right bitch, your best friend was off sick so you couldn't talk to them and your hockey practise had been cancelled, which was one of your favourite things about school. You were planning on just going home at this point, already about to cry. That was until you saw Jenna at your locker, her little posse laughing as they crowd around her.

Jenna was your worst enemy. She wasn't a fan of your brothers, which you were quite grateful for, but she took that as an invite to hate you, which you gladly returned.

"What the fuck are you doing around my locker." You called, walking over.

"Oh, just a bit of, redecorating." Jenna said with a smirk.

She moved out of the way and you saw writing all over your locker. Lots of hateful words and names. Slut. Clout chaser. Dumbass. Many more. Which made your blood boil.

"What you gonna do, go cry to your brothers. They don't give a fuck about you, that's why they left when they could." She said laughing.

"Fuck you." You spat.

"Aww is the little baby gonna cry~" She teased.

"I've had enough with your shit, Jenna! Don't have to like my brothers I don't like you! But you don't have to a fucking asshole!" You shouted.

"Your just an attention seeking whore." She called. Which was the last straw.

You threw your bag down and shoved Jenna into the lockers. She screamed as you punched her in the face and then pushed her to the ground. She tried to defend herself, getting a few punches and scratches here, but you were stronger, you grew up with four older brothers after all. You didn't stop, seeing the blood pour from her nose and lips, until you were pulled off by a teacher.

"Principles office now!" They shouted.

You sighed and grabbed your bag, ignoring the blood on your face from Jenna's nails scratching you.

"Your being suspended for two weeks. You can't go around causing fights. This is your third one." The principle said.

"She fucked up my locker and said shit to me and about my brothers!" You screamed.

"You threw the first punch." He responded.

"Take the two weeks, we'll have you back and you'll still be on the hockey team." He added.

You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off.

"Argue with me and you'll be benched for the season." He said.

You sighed and slumped down in your chair, watching as he rang home. Nick, Matt and Chris were home in Boston for a while, but you thought they might be hanging out with Nate. So you expected your mum or dad to answer the call. You listened to your principle explain that you needed picking up about a fight. You looked at your shoes until he hung up the phone.

"Your brothers are coming, I will have a talk with Nick." He told you.

Shit you thought. You knew they would probably be mad, but you knew your mum would be upset as it was your third one.

"When you come back after your two weeks, your on thin ice. One more fight will lead to being expelled and off the team." He said.

You sighed again and sat quietly. About twenty minutes later, Nick walked in. You saw he wasn't happy. The principle explained the fight and your punishment before you were allowed to leave. Nick placed a hand on your shoulder as he led you to the car, where Chris and Matt were waiting.

"We'll talk once we get home." He said, his voice scarily calm.

You got in the car, both Chris and Matt gave you a look of disappointment before Matt drove home. It was a quiet ride home.

When you parked up and headed inside, Matt made you sit at the kitchen island as Chris grabbed a first aid kit, ready to clean up your scratches.

"It might hurt." Chris mumbled as he cleaned up the open wounds.

You stayed still, not wanting to make them more angry as he cleaned them up, the blood now removed from your face.

"What the fuck happened?" Matt asked, running a hand through his hair.

You started to explain what happened, from your bad day, to Jenna pissing you off. You were about to explain how she said shit about you and about them, but Nick cut you off.

"You can't go around starting fights just because someone doesn't like us!" He shouted.

"She said shit about me! Wrote stuff on my locker! Said shit about you! I wasn't going to let that slide, Nick!" You shouted back.

"You were defending us." Chris replied.

"Yeah, so what she doesn't like you. But it doesn't give her the right to say shit about you." You responded.

Your brothers fell quiet as you held your head in your hands. A few tears slipping down your cheeks.

"Mum and dad are gonna be so mad." You mumbled.

"I mean....we're not happy, but we get it." Matt said gently.

"It's my third fight." You admitted.

"What?" Nick called.

"Principle said if it happens again I'll be off the hockey team. Mum said if I had another fight I'd not go with you to LA this summer." You answered.

"We'll talk to mum and dad, okay. But what you need to do is find a way to release this anger in a different way. People don't like us, that's fine, we don't care. We have real fans and one is right in front of us. That's all that matters to us and your safety. You can't lose hockey, that's your safe place. But if this Jenna is a real problem, then we need to have a meeting with her parents too." Matt said.

"I'm sorry." You apologised.

"We understand why you did it. It's not the right thing, but we get it. So we can't be fully mad. Plus your not that injured so we taught you well." Chris said with a cheeky grin.

You smiled a bit as you looked at them, the three of them hugging you tightly.

"Well....I now have two weeks off school, so what should we do?" You asked with a small laugh.

"Your most probably grounded, kid. Don't push your luck." Nick answered.

You sighed as they laughed, but you knew they were right. You were just happy they didn't get really mad.

[suugarbabe]

Saving Grace VI

[Chapter 6]

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

word count: ~3.3k

warning: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, smut, slight male overstimulation, 18+ content MDNI

Your heart had never felt so full. Laying on the couch in the common room with Mattheo on top of you, his back to your front as he laid between your legs. His head was resting on your stomach, his arms draped over your thighs as your legs intertwined with his. Soft snores are coming from Mattheo as you continue to trace your fingers through his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp. 

You looked over his face, noting the different scars. The one along his right side, that went through his eyebrow and over his cheek, had been there before you met him. He told you he got it the summer before he came to Hogwarts, something about a ‘task his father had challenged him with’ went not quite as planned. You lightly traced it with your thumb and he seemed to unconsciously lean into your touch. 

He had a couple other small scars from nicks and such in fights, but your favorite one was on the bridge of his nose. It really wasn’t quite a scar yet, but you knew it would turn into one eventually. The scab across it was nearly healed, leaving a thick line of pink skin. The week after you two had made it officially official, Adrian had come to bother you again, this time trying to grab you away from Mattheo in the middle of the hall, yanking on your elbow. 

You had seen Mattheo fight plenty of times, but this time it was like all he could see was red and all he wanted was Adrian dead. It took Theo, Draco and Blaise to finally pull them apart. Mattheo came out with just one deep gash on the bridge of his nose, while Adrain was in the hospital wing for a week. Mattheo got a month’s worth of detention, the last of which he served today. 

McGonagall made him reorganize the quidditch locker rooms and their respective closets. It took him nearly all day, hence his exhausted and sleeping figure on top of you. But you didn’t mind, you loved when he was able to be more vulnerable and loved that he felt safe enough to be that way with you. He was always displaying himself as so tough and unbreakable, you often had to remind him that he, too, was merely human and would break if he didn’t allow himself time to relax and recover. 

You were so engrossed with how pretty your boyfriend looked sleeping that you had zoned out, completely forgetting the other people around you. Pansy’s snapping is what finally broke your trance as you looked over to the couch across from you, giving her an apologetic smile. 

“Merlin, you two are so lovesick on each other,” she teased, causing the others to smile along with her. 

“Thank Salazar you finally admitted your feelings for him, I swear we were all going mental just waiting on you two to make it actually official,” Theo stated, lighting a spliff and taking a drag. 

Your face turned into one of confusion, “What do you mean ‘finally admitted my feelings for him’, what are you on about?” 

Draco rolled his eyes, “Cousin told us you guys were faking it.” You went to sit up a little straighter, however Mattheo’s grip on your legs prevented you from moving all together. 

“You mean you all knew it was fake? I mean, it’s not anymore, it hasn’t been for a while, but you all knew in the beginning?” You looked at each one of their faces. Enzo looked guilty, Theo and Draco both wore annoying smirks while Blaise and Pansy just had huge smiles. 

“To be fair, we didn’t know until after your little show at that first party,” Theo wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Still think about it sometim-” he was cut short thankfully by Blaise throwing a pillow at his head. 

Blaise turned to you then, “At first we thought he was just bringing you to the party as his date for the night, you know, like he was known to do. We played games and had a lot of fun. But during your little performance I noticed someone watching the two of you, specifically you, very closely.” 

You rolled your eyes, his name coming out like a grumble from your mouth, “You mean Adrian.” 

Blaise couldn’t help the slight smirk on his face, “Precisely. So, the next morning, when we were all a little more sober, I decided to ask Mattheo what was going on.” 

“At first he tried to deny everything, saying it was just for the night or whatever, but I could see right through it,” Draco pipped in. “Eventually, he told us how Adrian was being a proper creep and you asked for his help -”

Enzo interrupted him, “And Matty boy was talking about you for months before that.” The rest of the group seemed to nod in agreement. 

You couldn’t help the look of shock on your face, “W-what are you guys talking about? Months before?”

Blaise smiled at you, “That’s right sweetheart.” You looked back down at Mattheo’s sleeping form, admiration clear on your face. You traced your thumb over the apple of his cheek and he stirred slightly. His long eyelashes fluttered open, his voice thick with sleep as he spoke, “You lot talking ‘bout me?” 

A few members of the group laughed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, “All good things, love.” He grumbled slightly, turning over so he was now laying on his stomach, burying his face into your jumper covered chest. 

“You still sitting with me at the match tomorrow?” Pansy asked excitedly, finally able to have another girl with her to watch the boys play. 

Eyes still closed, Mattheo answered for you, “Course she is, gonna be wearing my spare jersey.” You smiled at Pansy, nodding your head in agreement. 

“And here I thought she’d be wearing mine,” Theo, ever the sass-master, felt the need to interject and quickly regretted it as Mattheo fully opened his eyes. You ran your hand through Mattheo’s curls, essentially soothing him back to a calm state before giving Theo the finger for riling him up.

xx

You wanted to curse whatever founder decided that deep into Scotland was the best location for Hogwarts as you pulled your stocking cap down over your ears. You also wanted to curse whoever decided that quidditch season needed to be in the bloody winter. 

“How the bloody hell do you look so cute but I look like a bundled troll?” Pansy poked the stuffing of her jacket near her stomach. You huffed out a laugh, “Oh please, Pans, we both look like stuffed olives. Green is normally so flattering to me, but right now I feel like a pickle.” 

You and Pansy continued to make comparisons to different green foods back and forth, not being able to contain your laughter as you found your seats in the stands on the Slytherin side. You weren’t sure if it was your relationship status, or if you and Pansy just got lucky, but you managed two front row spots in your house section, giving you the perfect view of the pitch. 

As both teams came out from the locker room tents you joined your fellow students in cheering loudly for green and silver. As members of both teams started doing warm up laps around the pitch, a particularly curly haired captain was hovering right in front of you and you couldn’t contain the grin that spread over your face. 

“Well don’t you look adorable this brisk afternoon, princess,” Mattheo was balancing on his Firebolt, leaning over the banister at the front of the stands. You stood from your seat, leaning closer to him, “I know you love pickles so I figured I’d copy the look to keep you motivated.” 

Mattheo let out a hearty chuckle, “S’that what you think you look like?” You nodded, biting your bottom lip to suppress the grin threatening to spread across your face. “Well you’re correct as always love,” Mattheo closed the gap between you two, placing a gentle kiss to your lips that ended far sooner than you wanted, “I love pickles and you look delicious.” 

You giggled slightly as you pushed his shoulder, effectively pushing him farther from you. With a wink he was soaring back down to the ground, meeting Madam Hooch and the other team's captain. As Madam Hooch released the bludgers and the snitch your adrenaline began to rise. When she tossed the quaffle in the air you were off your seat, keeping a close eye on Mattheo as he maneuvered around the pitch. 

Quidditch games were not foreign to you, you’ve even played it a little on holidays with your friends and such, but there was something about watching Mattheo, watching your boyfriend that made it all the more exciting. 

It definitely helped that Mattheo was a wiz at the game, gliding through the air, catching the quaffle like he’d been playing the game since he came out of the womb. He was especially cheeky this game, though, throwing a wink or a point your way every time he scored. 

The game was so exciting and Mattheo managed to pay you so much attention that you nearly forgot that Adrian was also on the team. That is, you forgot until you saw a bludger head straight for Mattheo. Thankfully he saw it and ducked out of the way. 

You followed the path that the bludger came from expecting to see the colors of the opposing team. Your eyes narrowed to slits as you saw Adrian Pucey hovering on his broom, bat in hand and a smirk plastered on his face. 

Adrian had arrogance, that was evident when he made eye contact with you and sent you a wink. You're sure your face was displaying a scowl but you held up both hands with middle fingers for good measure. 

You weren’t sure the game Adrian was playing at, but you knew Mattheo could finish it. After two more goals you saw Adrian smack another bludger, again heading straight towards your boyfriend, whose back was turned. 

You thanked Merlin for Theo as he came bolting towards Mattheo, using his own bat to beat the bludger in a different direction. Mattheo turned around, confused at the commotion as Theo very obviously shouted something at him. 

Mattheo then flew over where Draco had been, who was very obviously on the hunt for the snitch. Draco’s eyes were darting around the sky, searching for any glimpse of gold as he took in whatever words Mattheo was speaking. 

In an instant Draco was off, the Slytherin section erupting into cheers as he presumably found what he was looking for. Mattheo flew over to Theo, exchanging words. Theo nodded his head in understanding. 

The heat of the game was happening but your eyes stayed glued to Mattheo as he flew to the other side of the pitch towards Adrian. Cheers and shouts erupted around you, leading to an understanding that Draco likely caught the snitch and Slytherin had won. 

You watched as Mattheo all but dragged Adrian off his broom and to the tunnel leading from the pitch to the locker rooms. You watch as Mattheo’s fist connects with Adrian’s nose. Everyone else is seemingly distracted by the victory but you can't tear your eyes away from watching Mattheo beat the living shit out of Adrian not ten meters from everyone else. 

When you see Mattheo walk away from a crouching Adrian on the floor and head to the locker rooms you immediately follow, ignoring Pansy’s calls about where you were going. You rushed down the steps of the stands, taking as large of steps as your legs would allow as you reached the opening of the Slytherin locker room tent. 

The locker room was empty as everyone was still on the pitch celebrating. You walk further into the room, hearing a shower running. You shed some of your layers, taking off your hat, scarf, Mattheo’s extra jersey and your thick jumper. You toed off your shoes, pulling your socks along with them. 

The steam from the showers curled around your legs as you entered the shower stalls. When you finally reached him you saw the water at his feet run pink against the tile. You were sure the majority, if not all, was Adrians. You step into the stall, not caring that your clothes were essentially going to get soaked. You placed a tentative hand on his back.

He flinched at first, relaxing quickly into your touch. “What did he say, Teo?” He kept his back to you, doing his best to have a jovial tone, “If you wanted to see me naked again, love, you could’ve just asked. No need to storm the showers.” 

You rubbed your hands up and down his back, massaging his obviously sore muscles, “Mattheo…”

He let out a long sigh as he placed his hands on the wall in front of him. You saw a few cuts on his knuckles that you made note to heal later. “He deserved it,” his voice strained slightly, like just talking about it was making him angry all over again. 

You nodded, though you knew he couldn’t see it, “I’m sure he did, love, but what did he do this time?” 

His muscles tensed again, “It was about you. Had your name in his filthy fucking mouth. He..” Mattheo took another deep breath, you rubbed up and down his back, encouraging him to continue, “Well first he tried to knock me out with two fucking bludgers.” 

“I saw, right coward move if you ask me,” your rested your hands on Mattheo’s shoulders. He placed one of his on top on yours as he continued, “Then when I dragged him down, asking him what his problem was, he started talking about you. Starting saying foul things about you, saying he could have his way with you if he tried hard enough, that you being with me was all a lie and if he asked he could ‘have you up against a wall and calling his name’ and I just lost it.”

He turned to face you, hands gripping at the wet fabric on your waist, “I’m sorry princess, I just…I couldn’t stop myself.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, neither caring about the vulnerable state Mattheo was in in the shower stall. 

His posture indicated he felt bad for his actions, or at least feared that you might be mad at him. In reality you were anything but angry. You know it shouldn’t, but seeing Mattheo fight just…spurred you on. 

You tugged lightly at his curls and he lifted his head up, soft brown eyes meeting yours. “I love when you fight for me, Teo,” you twirled a curl around your finger at the base of his neck. Mattheo’s mouth upturned ever so slightly, “Yeah?”

You could feel his fingers dip under the hem of your shirt as you nodded your head, “Yeah, I know it’s kind of bad, but when I saw you hitting him earlier,” you pushed Mattheo back slightly, gripping the bottom of your soaked shirt and peeling it up and off your body, Mattheo’s eyes shot straight to your green lace bra, “I just wanted to get you alone and show you how much I really,” you popped the button of your jeans, “truly,” you dragged them down your legs and stepped out, “appreciate it.” 

He knows he’s seen you bare before, but there was something about you standing in soaking green lace that had his body responding before his mind could control it. Mattheo, for once, was at a loss for words, but you didn’t mind taking control for a moment. 

You placed a hand on his strong chest, pushing him back with the slightest pressure as your trailed your hand down his abdomen, feeling the dips and curves of his muscles that quidditch helped sculpt. His eyes held contact with yours as his back hit the tile wall.

Your hands continued to explore his body, thumbs dipping into the v-cut of his hips before grabbing him fully in your hand. You stroked him with light pressure, Mattheo’s eyes rolling as his head leaned back against the wall, “Your teasing me, Princess.” The statement came out in a breathy moan. 

“Just trying to show my boyfriend how thankful I am that he’s always there to defend me,” you slowly fell to your knees, dragging your nails down his thighs as you did so, eliciting a soft groan from Mattheo. 

You hold your mouth open, sticking out your tongue. You hold him in your mouth for a moment, just feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue. 

You’ve only been any type of intimate a few times since officially being called ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’ but you had made a mental note to take your time and enjoy it all in the beginning. 

“P-please, Princess. I n-need you to do something,” Mattheo’s begging went straight to your core. You pulled him from your mouth slowly, trailing your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

You wrap your hand around him, small strokes up and down as you kitten lick his tip. His hand finds home in your hair, lacing his fingers through the wet strands. 

You flatten your hand at the base of his cock, fingers spread across his pubic bone. You do your best to open your throat as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth. Your thumb applying light pressure where his balls meet his base, massaging the soft spot there. 

“F-fuck, holy shit, love, do that again,” Mattheo pleads. You hum in acknowledgment, repeating the action. Mattheo’s eyes roll in the back of his head and he knows he’s not going to last long. 

When you cup his balls, rolling them lightly in one hand as you deep throat him and hollow out your cheeks, Mattheo can’t even stop himself before he’s shooting hot ropes down your throat. 

You continue to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks out again and milking him for all has. Your hand is back at what won’t fit in your mouth. 

“Fuck, Princess, no more, I can’t,” he hissed through his teeth, grip tightening in your hair. You feel his thighs twitch under your palm but you don’t stop, wanting to push him just a little bit farther. 

His eyes roll to the back of his head and his upper lip quivers, you hum along his shaft, tapping his thigh to silently tell him to look at you. 

He stares down at you, eyes glazed over with lustful stupidity and that’s when you slowly drag him from your mouth with an obscene pop. You give one last long lick from base to tip before kissing his hip, grasping on to his forearm to help you stand up. 

Mattheo is still spent, leaning against the tile wall with shaky legs, one hand on your hip while the other cups your cheeks. 

“You tryna kill me, Princess? Where the fuck did that come from?” He’s breathless as he strokes your cheek lovingly. 

You shrug your shoulder slightly as your wrap your arms around his waist, “Just saying thank you.” You batted your eyelashes, doing your best to look innocent. 

Mattheo used his thumb to tilt your head up slightly, slotting his lips with yours. It was slow and sweet, his lips wet and heavy against yours. When he pulled away you found yourself lifting to your tip toes trying to chase after him. 

He chuckled slightly at your response, thumb tapping playfully at your bottom lip, “Cmon, love. Let’s get dressed before the rest of the lads get in and then we can go back to my dorm and I can,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “return the favor.” 

You slapped his chest playfully, “Cheeky offer, but you don’t have to do that. I’m more than happy with what transpired just now.”

Mattheo smiled your favorite dimpled smile as he grabbed a handful of your ass, “Oh, love, but I want to.”

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[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 3) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 2.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You struggle to keep your secret. Maverick's birthday dinner is off to a disastrous start.

Series Master List

Master List

It had been about two weeks since Phoenix and Coyote’s wedding and you hadn’t slept well a single night since. There was a weariness to your movements that wasn’t there before. Jake’s words were still echoing around in your head, threatening to upend what was left of your sanity at any second. 

And you still didn’t know what to do. 

Jake was pretty much ignoring you, doing what you did to him before the wedding. He dodged your calls, didn’t answer your texts, and the only thing that you hadn’t done yet to get his attention was show up at his apartment. You did have a key, but you were worried about pushing too much into crazy ex-girlfriend territory. 

And you weren’t even his ex-girlfriend. You were just the woman he fucked around with and knocked up. 

But could you really raise a baby on your own? Maybe. After all, your mom was a single mom for most of your life. And you knew that even though Maverick and Rooster would go apeshit for some time after finding out, they wouldn’t turn their backs on you. You would have help. You would have support. There was no way that your family would leave you and the baby to fend for yourselves. 

But was that the future, the life you really wanted? 

“Are you okay?” Emma asked you as you slowly worked on Maverick's birthday cake.

You were standing in Maverick’s kitchen with your sister-in-law, preparing Maverick’s surprise birthday dinner. Emma was cooking dinner with some help from Bradley, though his real job was to go out and grab ingredients that his wife forgot to buy, Penny was distracting Maverick for the day, and you were in charge of baking the cake. 

You always found baking soothing. It took you back to the Sunday afternoons that you spent with your mom while she taught you how to make everything from scratch. Bradley never really had an interest in baking, just eating, so it was always your alone time with your mom. And after she passed, you always turned to baking when you needed some kind of comfort or a simple, meaningless task to focus on. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you murmured, lazily frosting the cake in front of you. 

“Are you sure? You haven’t really been like yourself for some time.”

“I’m just tired.”

It wasn’t even a lie. You were exhausted. And it didn’t help that your stomach decided when it was happy with the food that you gave it and when it wasn’t with the flip of a coin. You felt so tired and drained already. Pulling the cake closer to you, you started writing out ‘Happy Birthday’ with the tube of blue icing. 

“Is it something with work?” 

“No.”

“Something wrong with your apartment again?”

“No, it’s just . . . it’s nothing.”

Since Jake walked off at the reception, you hadn’t told anyone else about your pregnancy. Penny asked you about it once a few days after the wedding and you just told her that you were still trying to tell the father and that was it. You didn’t really have the strength to mention the fact that Jake was ignoring you and you were very quickly beginning to spiral. 

“Alright,” Emma replied softly, going back to chopping vegetables. She left you alone for about a minute before turning back to you. “Did you want some wine? Bradley nicked some bottles from the reception. Including that rosé that you like so much.”

“No, I’m alright with water.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m . . . not drinking right now,” you replied awkwardly.

“Really?” Emma asked, sounding honestly surprised at your poor attempt to get out of drinking that evening. “So, no more Wine Down Wednesdays then?” 

“Not for a bit, no.”

“Alright,” Emma replied quietly, now more than a little suspicious. 

Emma had known you for longer than she had known Bradley. The two of you went to the same college and knew each other through sports. She was one of the captains when you were a freshman and took you under her wing. And when she moved out to San Diego, you offered to take her out for a drink at the Hard Deck. Rooster was there and you introduced them and the rest was history. 

And she knew that something was off with you.

Emma knew that both you and Bradley had a tendency to shut yourselves down when you were feeling a lot of emotional stress. She chalked it up to unresolved childhood trauma, of which you both had a decent amount. 

And it was written all over your face. You were stressed. You weren’t sleeping well. You weren’t eating well. You were cutting yourself off from the world around you. And she was getting seriously concerned about you and your health.

Emma set down her knife and slowly turned to face you, though you ignored her gaze, and gently called your name. You kept your head stubbornly down, focusing on the design on Maverick’s birthday cake, piping meaningless designs to just try and bide your time away from the conversation with your sister-in-law. 

“Did something happen at the wedding?”

“Can you drop it?” you snapped, finally turning to face Emma. 

She paused, not looking offended, but all the more concerned. Sighing, you set down the icing bag and walked out of the kitchen. Emma didn’t follow after you immediately, giving you some space to breathe for a moment as you stepped out for some fresh air. But when she saw you starting to cry, she hurried outside after you. 

As she approached the bench where you were sitting outside, you didn’t look up. But when she sat down beside you and gently pulled you in for a hug, you immediately turned to her. Latching onto her, every emotion that you plugged up inside since the wedding just came pouring out. She brushed your hair and just let you cry, not entirely shocked by your reaction. 

“You know, if you tell me anything, whatever it is, I’m not going to share it with Bradley without your permission, right?” Emma spoke softly, rubbing your back supportively. “And that goes for any topic here, okay?”

You wanted the first person you told about your pregnancy, minus Penny that is, to be Jake. He was the one who knocked you up. This was his baby. But Jake wasn’t listening to you. And holy shit you wanted to get some of the burden of this secret off of your shoulders. You wouldn’t last much longer just holding onto this by yourself. 

“You can’t tell Bradley, okay?” you whispered out shakily, causing Emma to nod. 

“Lips are sealed,” Emma promised you, giving you a supportive squeeze. 

You pursed your quivering lips together, just trying to take a moment to pull yourself together so that you didn’t start sobbing again. Sniffling, you buried your face into Emma’s chest a bit more, thinking for a moment about how your mom would have reacted to this situation, before finally letting it out. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

You could feel Emma tense up, but she didn’t say a word. Your stomach started to grow tight as the stress and anxiety of the last few weeks reached a new peak. But right as you started to go down the train of thought that you were truly on your own, Emma pulled you in for a tighter hug and steeled her own emotions in the moment. 

“You’re sure?” she whispered, rubbing your back again.

“I took three tests. Penny knows. She was there when I took them.” 

“Have you been to see a doctor?” 

“No,” you croaked out, straightening up on your own. Wiping away your tears and snot, you stared down at your lap for a moment. “I got an appointment. But I don’t really know what to expect with the whole . . . situation.” 

“And how are you feeling about it all?” Emma asked softly. 

“I’m . . . I’ve been better,” you replied lamely, wiping some more tears away. 

“Has the . . . father been supporting you through this? What did you say when you told him?” Emma questioned quietly. 

“Well, I haven’t told him yet,” you stated, causing Emma to nod slowly.

“Do you want to?” 

“Yes, of course,” you responded a bit sharper than you meant to, turning to meet Emma’s concerned gaze. “I meant to, but he’s . . . sort of . . . ignoring me now.” 

“Ignoring you?” Emma demanded, frowning protectively. “Why do you think he is ignoring you?”

“I sort of . . . pushed away from him after I found out I was pregnant and then he tried to talk to me about it when I wasn’t ready and I tried to push it off a little bit more and then he got mad and stormed off and hasn’t spoken to me since.” 

Without digging too much into how much the situation reminded her of petty high school drama, Emma straightened up in her seat, trying to come up with some sort of plan to get the father of your baby to grow the fuck up. 

“Who is he anyways? Does he live around here?” 

“You’re not going to break down his door,” you sighed, rubbing your face. Biting your lip, you turned to your sister-in-law. “I would tell you, but I think that you’ll freak out.” 

“I promise that I won’t freak out,” Emma assured you. 

“The father . . . is Jake,” you announced after a few moments of silence.

“Jake who?”

“Hangman,” you rephrased, a bit harsher than you intended. 

“Hangman?” Emma repeated, clearly trying to manage her tone and expression. When you nodded, she tried to manage her expression further. “The father of your baby is . . . Hangman. And he’s the one ignoring you?”

“Yes,” you stressed, your anxiety starting to spike again. 

Before Emma could reply, the sound of the fire alarm inside caused you both to get to your feet. Running and swearing, you raced inside. Smoke billowed out of the oven as soon as Emma pulled it open. She hurried to turn it off as you started to open the windows and beat the smoke away from the fire alarm. 

“What the fuck!?” Bradley cursed, running into the house after returning from the store. 

Grabbing the fire extinguisher by the front door, he ran over and put out the fire. You kept fanning the smoke away, but soon the smell of burnt food caused your stomach to roll and you were rushing into the bathroom. 

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned as you yanked the lid up. 

Emma ran into the bathroom once the chaos in the kitchen dwindled down and Bradley got control of the situation some more. Cursing, she kneeled down beside you and delicately pulled the strands of hair that unfortunately made their way into the bowl. 

“Sorry,” she apologized, wincing as you wretched again. “I forgot to turn off the oven before I ran outside after you.” 

“It’s fine,” you sighed, picking your head up. “It’s just how my life’s going at this point. What’s another disaster?” 

“Well, it’s all settled,” Bradley sighed, walking over to where you and Emma were in the bathroom. Spotting you leaning over the toilet, he quickly stepped into the room, concerned. “What happened to you?” 

“The smoke just made me nauseous,” you replied softly, not meeting your brother’s gaze. “I’m fine, Bradley.” 

“This is like the tenth time I’ve seen you throw up,” Bradley stated, folding his arms over his chest, like he always did when he was about to lecture you. “I think that you should see a doctor at this point.” 

“I’ve got an appointment,” you sighed, closing the lid and flushing your stomach’s contents away. “I’m a big girl, Bradley.” Sitting on the floor and leaning against the vanity, you looked up at your brother. “How’s the cake?” 

“A little smokey, but it should be fine. As for the rest of it . . .” 

“There’s always take out,” Emma stated, standing up. “But maybe we should host it somewhere that isn’t so smokey.” 

“The only other option is my apartment,” you replied, getting to your feet. 

“Great,” Bradley sighed, earning a nudge from his wife. “I mean, that’s great.” 

“Hilarious,” you muttered, getting to your feet as well. “I’ll text Penny and tell her about the change in plans. I’ll take the cake and go set up at my apartment. You two clean up here and figure out dinner.” 

You left Maverick’s house shortly thereafter, returning to your apartment. It didn’t take too long to set up the cake and dinner. Bradley and Emma arrived with the food about thirty minutes later and the three of you were hurrying around trying to make it look homemade. 

“Shit,” you cursed when your doorbell rang. “Just hide the containers in my pantry.” 

Rushing over to the door, you pulled it open, just expecting it to be Maverick and Penny. But when you looked up and saw Jake standing there, you instantly tensed up. He stared at you for a moment, looking a bit nervous, but with that usual reserved air of confidence about him. 

“Jake,” you breathed out, gripping the door so hard it hurt. 

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[emsgwenstan]

I need you when I sleep.

Larissa Weems x fem reader. (Angst)

Words: idk like less than 1k? It’s short and sweet.

Warnings: nightmares, mentions of blood and abuse

Note: I really couldn’t be bothered to continue, kinda angsty. (Italics are for the nightmare.)

———

They were taking her, I don’t know who, I don’t know where, but what I did know is that whoever they are dragged Larissa away and they were going to hurt her. I couldn’t move, practically paralysed, I could only scream out to her, I could only plead for them to take me and let her free, but nothing I did could stop the inevitable.

I don’t understand what they want with her, hasn’t she suffered enough? It feels the same as when I found her lying on the cold stone almost lifeless after laurels attack.

I couldn’t bear to have her taken away from me again, the rage accumulated in my veins seemed to take its toll as I retracted enough to completely rip out of their grasp and one by one I slaughtered every one of them with my bare hands, ripping, pulling, scratching and gouging, yet when I ran to her she wasn’t getting any closer, she was so close but not enough for my reach.

Hoards of people came to drag us further apart and I wasn’t strong enough to fight against them all, so slowly, ever so painfully, I watched as they beat her and ripped at her clothes, I saw the way her blood trickled down her face and blemished her porcelain skin. I screamed and screamed and screamed until my throat was raw and stinging. The light and the string of life was barely hanging on by a thread as I saw her tired body no longer struggling.

———

Larissa paced back towards her quarters after sneaking down to the staff room to nick a tea bag and make a hot tea for herself, the insomnia finding hilarity in her drowsy state, she sat in the room scrolling through her phone until the cup was empty, then headed back to her quarters.

However the halls weren’t very quiet for 2:30 in the morning. She could hear yelling that became screaming quickly in the span of 30 seconds, she started to walk faster than turned jogging to the noise, she realised that it was coming from my room, she rapidly knocked on the door but with no answer or pause in the distress she pulled out her keys fumbling to find the master that opens all the doors.

Finally she found it slotting it in the key hole and ripping open the door, the room was dimly lit by a singe candle and the red alarm clocks numbers, she could see my thrashing silhouette in the sheets of my bed and ran to sit on the side of my mattress, Larissa grabbed my sheets and pulled them away for better access. “Shhh darling, you’re alright, come on wake up sweetheart.” She said trying to coax me out of the state. She dragged my body to lay in her lap and gently shake me awake. “No don’t!” I yelled. “Wake up honey! Come on.” She demanded. “Don’t hurt her please!” I screamed. “WAKE UP!” She yelled.

A gasp filled my lungs finally being jerked away from the terror, I looked up to see Larissa’s troubled expression, my body was shaking and exhausted. “Rissa, you’re alright…” I hummed my eyelids blinking slowly. “I’m ok? Y/n…?” Larissa curled her knees up, sat on her hip and elbow peering down at me concerned stroking the sweaty hair from my forehead. “Oh thank goodness.” I sniffed, tears rolling down to temples and into my hair. “You can’t leave me again, you can’t die.” I mumbled into her shoulder. “I’m right here I’m not going anywhere, it was just a very bad dream.” She said cupping my cheek.

After a few minutes I had fallen back to sleep, this was Larissa’s queue to carefully hop off the bed and fetch a cool washcloth from my ensuite to pat down my hot sweat ridden face, neck and shoulders. Gently she folded the cloth and wiped carefully until I lulled awake again. “Please don’t leave.” I whispered with my eyes peeling open just a fraction. “I’m not going anywhere darling.” She lowly spoke back, with my eyes closed again and my hand wrapped around her wrist I said. “I love you, Larissa.” Her eyes widen slightly and her movements are relinquished. Before she could respond I was asleep again.

Larissa discarded the cloth, toed off her flats and removed her floor length robe to get in the bed with me. She didn’t care about keeping her propriety, she didn’t even think twice about how inappropriate it is to share a bed with her employee, because that’s not what I was to her, since the day of her near death Larissa vowed to herself that she would not push me or others away to keep her feelings safe, because if she had in fact died that night what would she have to show for it, no family, no lover, just a home and position she’d leave behind.

Comfortably rested in the sheets Larissa pulls my body closer to hers and ever so softly, she lifts my head to remove the hair from my neck tossing it up against the pillow and guide my neck into the inside of her bicep. Her brows are deeply creased due to the concern, but the longer she looks at my sleeping form it softens, her tense muscles relax, her mind slowly coming to ease. “I love you too, my sweet darling girl.” She whispered, hesitantly she placed a light kiss to my cheek, then finally falling asleep herself.

———

As I rolled over, I noticed that I could feel a dip in the mattress and warmth radiating from right beside me, Larissa. My heart starts racing at the prospect of the woman I love in my bed, asleep in all her glory, my eyes meet her glistening porcelain skin thats illuminated by the streak of sunlight casting over her face from the unclosed curtains. She’s bare of any make up, her usual blood red lips are a soft pink, the scar more evident and more beautiful that wonderfully taints her soft feature, her eyelashes a light blonde completely contrasting to the cobalt blue eyeliner and mascara.

In a moment of confusion I found myself staring at her so intensely that I hadn’t realised she had woken, her eyes fluttering open adjusting to the bright light. “Morning sweetheart.” She said, her voice is deep and laced with sleep, I could feel it vibrate from her chest. “Hi…” I said softly. “Are you feeling alright?” She asked shifting her head out of the sun and onto the pillow I occupied. “I’m fine… what exactly are you doing here?” I asked sheepishly. “You don’t remember?” She asked, her brows furrowing. “I’m afraid not.” I mumbled. Larissa took a big inhale of breath through her nose and stretched her long limbs, as she did so the strap of her silky tan nightgown slipped down her shoulder.

“Early this morning, you were screaming. You had a nightmare and I came in to wake you, it was quite terrifying, I thought you wouldn’t wake… but, you asked me to stay.” She said, her reasons seemed valid, it’s easy to believe the nightmare part especially. “I don’t remember it-… wait.” The memory of the nightmare hit me like a bus, I hadn’t realised I’d been screaming in reality. “Yes, yeah I do actually, it was me and you-… it was awful.” I huffed, I extended my hand and pulled up her strap as if were stoping me from focusing. “I apologise, for the noise, particularly things I might have said… what else did I say?” I asked, pulling the braid from behind her shoulder to trace the pattern in her hair, unconsciously not seeing how intimate this is.

“A few things… you asked for me not to leave you, you were worried I was going to die… tell me, how long have you been having these nightmares?” She asked, tucking the hair in my eyes behind my ear, away from my face. “Since you were attacked. I’ve never been able to get the picture out of my head.” I said. “What do you mean? you saw me?” She asked confused. “Who do you think found you Larissa?” I asked looking directly into her eyes. “I took you to the hospital, I stayed with you every night, every morning, every waking moment of every day, I couldn’t bear for you to be or feel alone.” I said slightly ashamed of how invasive it sounds. “You what?” She asked propping herself on her elbow. “I’m sorry… I was just worried sick, I thought that… never mind.” I said sitting up letting the blanket fall down onto my lap as I covered my face with my hands, rubbing my eyes until I could see kaleidoscopic patterns.

A silence filled the air until it was broken by a whisper. “You said something else last night.” I removed my hand and rapidly blinked for my eyes to readjust. “What?” I asked matching her tone. “You said…” she started, sitting up to be face to face with me. “That you love me… Is that true?” She asked with hopeful eyes. “Yes.” I responded without hesitation. “I thought I would never have been able to tell you that… that I love you, that’s why I was so afraid when you were almost taken away from me… I understand that you don’t feel the same but there’s no sense in denying it, because I do, I love you, so much, and I’m constantly in torment when I sleep because I’m so scared you won’t be with me anymore.” I breathed starting to cry.

Larissa had tears rolling down her cheeks before I finished the statement, she didn’t respond with words, but I knew I was wrong by saying she didn’t feel the same when she took my face in her hands and kissed me gently. “I love you.” She whispered on my lips. “I love you.” She said again. “I need you too.” She said with her lips pressed to mine. Her hands traveled into my hair and my own raised to her neck. Everything felt like it was falling into place.

@sabraaabra @barbarasstar @readingtheentrails

[thefallennightmare]

One Night: Noah's POV-three

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

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Noah's POV of his one night with Reader.

Authors Note: I'm so excited for this chapter because this is going to be completely new for everyone! THIS SERIES WILL BE FOUR PARTS! THE NEXT PART WILL BE THE FINALE! Something completely new and fresh, none of you knows what happens!

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The door closed behind Y/N, leaving me alone in my hotel room for the first time in seven hours. The silence was loud in my mind as I let out a shaky breath, running a hand through my messy hair. My eyes snapped over to the small bar always stocked in each hotel room I stayed in. If this were four years earlier, I would have drowned myself in alcohol to forget the image of a woman leaving me in a hotel room, but now was different; I was different.

At least, I thought I was.

I told myself I’d never get attached to someone, for my own mental safety and personal issues, but here I was, drowning in self-misery that a woman I barely knew on a personal level, left me standing in the middle of my hotel room in shambles. But the second my eyes landed on Y/N, I knew that every essence of my being would be overtaken by her, no matter how hard I tried. I thought, for a moment, if I didn’t have this deal with her things would be different. I wouldn’t feel so attached but knew it wasn’t because of that. Regardless if we spent the night together or not, I knew Y/N would leave some sort of lasting impression on me.

“Fuck,” I muttered while dragging a hand over my face. “How did I let her sink her teeth in this deep?”

Deciding not to dwell on these feelings, I retreated into the bathroom to pack up my things. I needed to meet the guys on the bus in about an hour. As I stepped in front of the mirror, I took in the sight of myself; hair a mess from hands running through it, neck littered with various bites, and scratches ran down the tattoos on my shoulders and back; Y/N leaving her marks all over my physical form and soul.

I never believed in that soulmate bullshit but there was something about her that when our skin touched, everything felt right; everything clicked into place.

A firm knock on the hotel room door made me jump slightly, bringing me back to the present, and with a sigh, I opened it to find Nick standing on the other side of it. His eyes took in my appearance and raised a brow.

“Rough night?”

I grunted while letting him in the room so I could finish packing. I busied myself by picking up the discarded clothes from last night, forcing myself not to think of her, but when my fingers brushed against a soft, unknown material, I sucked in a breath.

Y/N’s shirt. She left in such a hurry, she might not have realized she threw her sweatshirt on without her shirt. Underneath the shirt was a small, black lace, garment and I realized after picking it up what it was; her choker. My cock twitched as a flashed image of her on her knees, staring up at me, with her mouth stuffed full of me. I remember hooking my fingers in her choker to keep her close to me.

“Hm,” Nick hummed. “That looks familiar.”

I stuffed the choke in my pants pockets then the shirt in my suitcase, pulling out a shirt for myself.

“It’s nothing,” I mumbled under my breath after tossing on the shirt and zipping my suitcase.

“Right,” he shrugged. “Are you almost ready?”

I nodded. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I was ready to leave this room, forget Y/N’s scent as it engulfed the entire space, while also trying to forget the way she made my heart stop at the mere thought or mention of her name.

“Did you at least make sure Y/N had a ride home?” Nick asked once we walked out of the room.

I stopped dead in my tracks momentarily, heart stuttering in my chest before I cleared my throat and continued walking in step with him.

“She called an Uber.”

Nick gave me a sideways glance. “You didn’t even offer us to drop her off?”

“I couldn’t even offer to walk her outside before she ran out of the room,” I said as we came to a stop in front of the elevator.

“You’re insane to think one night would be enough, Noah,” Nick admitted.

“The idea of us is insane. There’s no way a relationship would work between us. She made that clear.” I swallowed the noise in my throat.

“Goodbye, Noah.”

Y/N’s parting words ached deep within me, knowing the reason she hated uttering that word. But yet, she still said it to me seconds before slipping through the door with my heart in her hands.

I’ve gone through my life making a lot of mistakes but I made the biggest one that night.

Letting Y/N walk out of my life.

I sat on the couch in the green room of the venue, hours before our show, my head hung low as I stared down at my phone, an unsent text teasing me for never finding the courage to send it. It’s been like this for the last handful of months, me typing up a message but never sending it because of the doubt.

Me: Hey, it’s Noah. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. I read online that you’re getting ready to publish a book. Can’t wait to read it.

The pad of my thumb hovered over the green send button, almost ready to click it, when the doubt crept in.

If she wanted to talk to you, don’t you think she would have reached out?

Y/N only wanted sex with you, she never cared for a relationship.

How do you think a new relationship would survive on the road?

I slammed the phone down on the couch next to me, yet again not sending the text, and I saw the look Jolly gave me.

“Don’t fucking start,” I warned while leaning against the back of the couch.

He let out a long breath while sitting across from me. “How many times are you going to type up the same message but not send it? That’s not why you asked Britt for Y/N’s number.”

“It’s difficult, Jolly. Trying to forget her these last handful of months has been anything but. I thought with how busy we were in Europe with shows and press it would help but it only made it worse. I expected to see her every time I looked out into the crowd. Every passing face I thought was Y/N. I’d known this girl for less than twenty-four hours and she fucking clawed her way into me.”

My knee bounced as my hands clasped together, hoping to stop the shakes.

Jolly hesitated for a moment. “Can I be honest with you?”

When I nodded, he continued. “I was afraid, we all were, for a moment after Y/N left that you’d find yourself in alcohol once again. I’d never seen you so hung up about a girl before.”

“I’m not hung up. I’m just-,” the words died in my mouth for a long second, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone which doesn’t make fucking sense because I don’t even know her.”

“Folio mentioned she doesn’t have any social media?”

I nodded, a small smile pulling at my lips. Y/N was like me in that aspect, wanting to have parts of her life so personal.

“Personal, no, but she has an Instagram where she promotes her upcoming books,” I informed Jolly.

Shortly after our night together, two days to be exact, I searched for Y/N on Google where the only thing I found was her website and Instagram which again, she only ever used to promote her upcoming books. I still followed them through Bad Omens pages, hoping for some kind of update. Almost immediately after our page followed hers, Y/N returned the follow. But that was as much interaction between us since then.

Nine months later, the only thing she ever posted was a cover page of a Word document that had six words:

One Night. Coming later this year.

The title alone made me question if she was writing about our night together but once again, the doubt that plagued my mind forbade me from asking her.

I thought about either asking Britt or Folio if they talked to Y/N, wondering how she was doing, but she wasn’t mine to ask about. Her life wasn’t meant for me to know.

“I know her leaving wrecked you, Noah. It was a dark point in your life, one we were afraid you wouldn’t pull yourself out of. I had to watch you hole yourself up in the studio for days on end when you weren’t hiding in your room,” Jolly said.

“I don’t know how to explain this feeling,” I played with the silver chain on my wrist. “We only agreed to one night together, I thought that once Y/N left, I’d be able to go back to my normal life.”

“Why haven’t you called her?” He questioned.

“She hasn’t called me,” I shot back while sinking farther deeper into the couch, this anxious feeling running through my veins never faulting.

“Do you miss her?”

My heart dropped at Jolly’s question as my voice was just above a whisper. “All the time.”

Just as he was about to respond, the door to the green room opened, a flow of people and loud voices entered; all familiar. Some old friends of Virginia followed both of the Nicks into the room and with one final look towards me, Jolly silently told me we’d finish this conversation later. I cursed myself, almost forgetting I agreed to these friends coming to the show tonight. We were a few hours from the town where we grew up and maybe that’s the reason I felt so anxious.

Conversations were had with everyone but I couldn’t focus, my mind elsewhere. Overtaken by one singular force; Y/N.

The way she looked on her knees, hands tied behind her back.

The way her pussy felt gripping my cock as I sunk deep in her.

Her pretty little moans echoed throughout the room; my name falling from her lips in a prayer.

These were the thoughts that kept me up at night, either in my room or in the small confines of the bus bathroom, hand wrapped around my cock.

She overtook every aspect of my life, day and night. There was no way to forget about her, no matter how many times I tried. I often asked myself the same question: What if I could never forget her?

What if in all my life, if I met someone new, I could never fall for them because they weren’t Y/N?

Nothing would compare to Y/N. I didn’t bother even gazing towards another woman in the way I did Y/N. None of them mattered to me in that way, the only one I wanted was Y/N.

How could you when she broke your heart?

Internally, I snickered at that word: heartbreak. No one could give the correct definition of it. Heartbreak is something you feel deep within yourself, everyone has their own way of describing it.

My heartbreak felt as if my heart was literally broken as if Y/N leaving stepped on it and shredded it into a million pieces.

Heartbreak is when you have this constant pain in your entire body, unsure how to heal it, yet it’s numb at the same time.

Heartbreak is when you decide to finally give up. Finally, figure out that maybe you weren’t good enough for her, you weren’t what she wanted. It made me feel like if I wasn’t good enough for Y/N, I wouldn’t be good enough for anyone else.

Heartbreak is when you try to forget about her, stop thinking of her, and try with all your fucking might to move on.

Heartbreak is when no matter how hard you try, you don’t forget her. You never stop thinking about her and you fall for them even though they’re not here with you.

“Noah.”

Snapping my gaze away from the dirt-riddled floor, I noticed Folio was showing me his phone; a picture.

“What?” I asked with furrowed brows.

Until I looked deeper at the picture, realizing it was of two women, with bright smiles on their faces. I recognized the one on the left as Folio’s girlfriend, Britt. But the one on the right was the one that took my breath away; my heart falling out of my ass at the sight of her.

Y/N.

Her hair was shorter than the last time I saw her, almost to her shoulders, and the light behind her eyes was brighter than ever. I immediately noticed the new tattoo design on her leg, something she didn’t have that night. She was a brand-new woman. The life change was good for her; what we went through together helped her to move on. While I was proud of that, part of me wondered if she truly moved on from Jacob.

I licked my dry lips and choked on my words. “Wh-when was this taken?”

“Yesterday. For Britt’s birthday. I have plans with her next week when we are in their hometown. You should see if Y/N wants to join, double date,” Folio spoke.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that this was Britt’s doing, trying to get the four of us together.

“You can tell my cousin that she needs to stop playing matchmaker,” Nick chuckled.

My breathing was erratic and unstable, and the corners of my vision faded to pure white, an incoming panic attack sinking its claws in my lungs. All day I’ve felt like this, anxious for reasons unknown, but as soon as my eyes drank in the sight of Y/N, it became clear.

Standing up from the couch with a start, I rummaged through my bag, doing my best to take deep breaths, and snatched my AirPods.

“Where are you going?” Jolly wondered.

I waved him off while slipping from the green room and straight through the back door of the venue, the fresh air helping a little with the crushing pain inside of me. With shaking fingers, I searched through the Calm App to find the perfect meditation to help center myself. I quickly sat on the swing that hung from an older tree’s branch and shoved my headphones in my ears. Soft meditation music filled my senses as I let my eyes close shut, my breathing becoming lighter, less crushing.

“This is The Death of Peace of Mind,” I gave a somber smile into the microphone as we started up the last song on our setlist.

The entire afternoon into the first few minutes before our set began, it was filled with a constant state of anxiety no matter how often I tried to breathe or meditate. I thought that performing in front of the sold-out crowd would help but my eyes wouldn’t stop staring out into every face in front of me to search for her; something I did every night. It was only the fifth show of this month-long tour but that didn’t stop me. Hell, I even did it while in Europe, thinking maybe Y/N would show up there.

We performed this song almost every night and every single time; I thought of Y/N.

I stepped on the platform next to Jolly’s side of the stage, bending at my knees. “I miss the way you say my name. The way you bend, the way you break.”

Y/N bent over the table as I tasted every part of her essence.

“Your makeup running down your face.”

Y/N was on her knees, choking on my cock, as mascara mixed with the tears over her cheeks.

“The way you fuck, the way you taste.”

Y/N’s body was exposed in front of me as I speared her open on my cock, her round breasts mere inches in my face.

I moved around on stage, singing the lyrics that at first weren’t meant for my angel, but now, I’d sing to her whenever she let me.

Once perched back up on the platform on Jolly’s side of the stage, I stood straighter and gripped the microphone tighter in my hand, closing my eyes. The lyrics poured out of my soul, as a siren cry to the one who held my heart in her hands, unknowingly.

“You come and go in waves. Leaving me in your wake. You come and go in waves. Swallowing everything.”

The moment my eyes opened, my gaze was pulled to one specific person in the crowd, a few rows back from the stage. That familiar iris’ stabbed into my soul and my jaw dropped slightly as I almost dropped my microphone.

Angel.

Nearly missing my mark, I composed myself as best as I could to finish out the rest of the song; eyes jumping back every so often to the section of the crowd where I thought I saw Y/N. Except now, her form was only a vision in my mind.

“Uh, Jolly?” I spoke while walking out of the greenroom bathroom, fully dressed in street clothes.

He looked up from gathering his things in his backpack. “Hm?”

I rubbed the back of my neck with nerves. “Ah, shit. Never mind, it sounds crazy.”

“What is it?”

Halting packing my bag, I sighed while shifting on my feet. “I saw Y/N tonight; in the crowd.”

Jolly’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“I-uh,” I sighed again while putting on my white hat. “I don’t know. It looked a lot like her but I only saw her briefly for a few seconds.”

He didn’t say anything, but again, he didn’t have to; Jolly was apprehensive about my observation.

“Noah,” he began.

I threw my sweater over my shoulder, gushing him with a shake of my head. “It’s crazy; I’m seeing things that aren’t there.”

Yet again, before we could finish our conversation, the door to the green room opened with familiar faces of some of my friends from back home ushered us out of the room. We had plans to go to a local bar but the prospect of Y/N being in the same city as me made my heart flutter wildly. I needed to know if she really was here or if I was imagining it; like I always did.

“Where’s Folio?” I asked as we all walked through the back hallway of the venue.

“He’s already by the bus. Said something about wanting to call his girlfriend,” Bryan said as we caught up to the rest of the group.

Jealousy stabbed my heart, wondering why I couldn’t have that. I wanted to call Y/N after a show to let her know how it went and then ask what she spent her day doing. But no, I had to let her walk away. I was too afraid to ask her to stay.

As we stepped foot outside, the cool night air encasing me, I did my best to laugh along with one of my older friends at a joke he said. But something deep within me urged me to look to my left and when I did, my heart stopped dead in my chest; breath hitching my throat.

Y/N stood on the other side of the barrier that kept the fans away from the tour bus, Folio watching this interaction with a smug smile. Her hair was pulled back into two buns on top of her head, and one of our merch shirts was tied up to the middle of her stomach, showcasing her unholy skin that I begged to taste again. The jean shorts she wore were cut off just below the swell of her perfect ass and those damn fishnet tights had my cock throbbing with desire.

The corner of my lips turned up in a grin, realizing what I saw tonight was true and standing in front of me.

“Hi,” Y/N’s voice was quiet as her hands shook at her sides.

"Hi,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

Neither of us made a move towards each other.

Folio, who was still on the other side of the gate alongside me, watched our silent interaction with a lazy smile.

“She’s been waiting for you. You took so long she almost bailed and wanted me to keep it a secret,” he muttered while smacking my shoulder as he walked past.

“Not cool!” Y/N narrowed her eyes while calling after him.

My gaze burned into her, setting her ablaze as she ran her hands over her thighs; the nervous tick was something that hadn’t changed.

“What?” She asked.

I licked my lips. “I saw you tonight. In the crowd.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.”

I kept my voice steady, not wanting to give away about how I was feeling. Just because she was here didn’t mean I was ready to jump back in with her. My heart was still broken, needing to be mended back together, something that would take longer than one night.

“Why didn’t you reach out?”

Even though my heart was pounding in my throat, I merely shrugged. “Why didn’t you?”

“Noah, I-.”

Hearing my name being called, I turned slightly back to the group waiting for me and gave them a quick nod. As I turned back towards Y/N, she immediately threw a thumb over her shoulder.

“You know what, I should go. The show was amazing but I’ve got a long drive back home.”

“Y/N.”

Her name fell in a hushed whisper, begging her to stay, as my fingers grazed over the skin of her wrist. She looked from my hold on her up to my eyes, brows furrowed with confusion. Even this simple touch brought back the memories of our night together, of how the simple feeling of her skin on mine caused every cell to live within me.

“Why are you here?” I asked, slightly bouncing on the soles of my heels.

Her eyes shifted between mine. “I wanted to see the show.”

“Bullshit,” I scoffed, suddenly angry that she kept beating around the true answer. “You drove three hours to see us when next week we have a show that’s minutes from where you live?”

“Why are you here?” I pressed again with a slight squeeze to her wrist when she remained silent.

“I wanted to see you,” Y/N admitted with a long breath.

Hearing her finally admit to what I knew was the reason made my face twitch in a smile. “Why?”

As her lips parted to speak, Davis called for me.

“Noah! Are you coming or what?”

Mother fucker.

“I won’t keep you, Noah. It was good seeing you but I’m going to go.”

My eyes sliced into her with a look that made her locked in place on the other side of the barricade. “I swear if you keep threatening to leave, angel, I’m going to bend you over and smack that ass in front of everyone.”

Her lips mimicked a fish now as she peered up at me through her long lashes; those plump lips begging to be ravaged.

Fuck it.

Reaching over the guardrail, I grasped her hips to lift her up and over it with ease, setting her down in front of me.

“What are you doing?” Y/N squealed in delight, it echoing throughout the parking lot.

Not saying a thing, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, the familiar heat clouding us again, and led her toward the group that was waiting for me.

“Noah,” she tried to stop me by almost digging her feet into the ground.

I ignored her as we reached the group and squeezed her shoulder. “Hey guys, this is Y/N.”

Everyone nodded a greeting to Y/N, Jolly smiling at her.

“We knew we saw you tonight,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I wanted to see the show,” she shrugged.

Nick chuckled lightly. “Right, that’s why you drove three hours when we’re in your hometown next week?”

Something in her shifted and when I stared down at her, I noticed her eyes were cast at her feet.

“You guys go ahead. I’m going to hang back with Y/N,” I said motioning to my friends.

“You should go out with them,” Y/N peered up at my through lashes, her doe eyes pulling me in closer.

Biding them goodbye, I led her towards the bus, and when I took the first step; I extended my hand towards her; she took it with slight hesitation before we ascended the quiet bus together.

“You won’t get in trouble for having me in here?”

I snorted while motioning her to follow me. “Come on, there’s an area in the back that’s private so we can talk.”

Talk.

I wasn’t sure what exactly we would talk about. There were a lot of things that we left unsaid the last time we saw each other but now that she was standing in front of me I had no plans on letting her not know the truth.

I fell onto the couch of the back area of the bus with a huff, quickly picking up that Y/N was running her hands over her thighs. 

“Nervous?” I raised a brow. 

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. My heart was beating like the wings of an angel in my chest. 

The only noise she made was a low growl while stuffing her hands in the back pocket of her shorts. 

I patted the spot next to me. “You can sit. I’m not going to bite, well unless you want me to.”

I deflected my nerves with the only way I knew how; flirting. 

Hesitantly, Y/N sat down next to me, purposely leaving space between us. My eyes tracked up the entirety of the fishnet stockings and I bit the inside of my cheek. 

“Why didn’t you go out with your friends? Folio mentioned they were old friends from Virginia?”

I snapped my eyes up towards the softness of her face; the freckles that peppered her nose bringing a smile to my lips. 

“The thought of spending time with you sounded better.” 

I assessed every single movement Y/N made. Her intertwined fingers, the corners of her lips pulled down in a slight frown. The reddish hue spread across her cheeks. And the way her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took. 

"You're staring.” 

I blinked, a smug smile on my face. “You look good, angel.”

 “Thank you.” Y/N brushed a piece of loose hair behind her ear. 

There was this burning ache deep inside of me and I desperately needed to hear her answer to help kill the ache. 

“Has he called you at all?” 

I never uttered his name, but I knew I didn’t have to. Y/N knew who I was talking about. 

She shook her head. "Jacob hasn't bothered me since that night. I think he realized I wasn't going to take him back after he heard us together."

This question rolled off my tongue before my brain caught up with it. "Have you called him?"

Usually, soft eyes, now hardened with anger, sliced into me.  "No, I haven't. In fact, I haven't been with anyone since that night. You kind of ruined the idea of being with anyone else."

Good,” a proud grin spread to my face. 

"You're unbelievable," Y/N scoffed. 

I leaned towards her, resting my elbows on my knees. "I haven't been with anyone else, either."

She snorted. "Congratulations, I bet that must have been so hard for you. Do you want a medal?"

Oh fuck. 

Hearing the sass fall from her lips made my cock twitch and I rolled my tongue over my bottom lip, humming low within my chest.  "Such sass coming from that mouth. Do I need to stuff it with something else?"

I may have been laying it on pretty thick with her tonight but I knew that it turned her on; the way her breath hitched in her throat or the way she shifted on the couch next to me, almost to alleviate some of the pleasure I’m sure was building between her legs. But as she noticed the burning desire behind my eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned farther back into the couch; remaining silent. 

"I didn't hear a no," I tsked. 

"Is that why you invited me on your bus so you can tease me?" Y/N cocked her head. 

Even though they shook with nerves, I raised a finger to brush away another loose strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear, purposely letting my fingers brush against the skin behind her neck. 

"Believe me, Y/N. I want to tease you in so many ways."

She swallowed thickly as my fingers now crazed over her collarbone. 

"You can say no but with how hard your heart is beating, I know the truth,” I whispered when I felt her erratic heartbeat underneath my palm. 

I was hoping we’d be able to talk before falling back into our old ways, my cock begging to have some sort of release. 

"Noah.” 

I tracked every movement of her tongue as it darted over her lips. 

"I need to tell you something."

My hand fell from her into my lap as my heart stilled in my chest; fear suddenly filling my senses.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" I joked.

Y/N’s eyes almost doubled. "If I was pregnant, don't you think I'd be showing by now?"

I shrugged with a chuckle while leaning away from her, back in my previous spot. "I know you're not. I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

For the both of us. 

I wasn’t used to this kind of tension between us so I didn’t know what to do to help disperse it. 

Realizing she didn’t find my humor funny, I ran a hand over my face with a tired sigh. I didn’t have to check the time to know it was late, the exhaustion of the day starting to weigh heavy on my bones. 

"You're tired," Y/N spoke quietly. 

I nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yeah, it's been a long day. We're only four shows in this tour but I'm already exhausted."

But then I locked eyes with her while pointing my finger. "If I didn't want you here, angel, I wouldn't have invited you. I want to spend time with you, no matter how exhausted I am."

"When do you guys have to leave for the next city?" She wondered, a slight smile on her lips.

"Tomorrow morning. Everyone wants to get on the road by 9 but depends on how hungover they are," I laughed a little.

"Oh.” 

There was a hint of something in her voice; something I couldn’t quite pick up on as she glanced at her phone, almost groaning at the time.

"Are you driving back tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah, so I should probably get on the road soon."

My heart fell into the pits of my stomach; to Tartarus if you will. I didn’t want her to leave yet, I needed to think of something to make her stay longer. I let her go once before, I refused to do that again. 

"Why did you come here tonight, Y/N?" My jaw clenched. 

Even though she sighed, I still didn’t let her speak. 

"We both agreed to have one night together, one of the best nights I had in a long time. It killed me to have you walk away. Ask any of the guys, your leaving wrecked me,” I admitted, almost out of breath. 

Fuck, it felt good to get that off my chest. It had been building and building for the last nine months, eating away at me like a fucking disease. 

Y/N blinked at me, lips mimicking a fish, and I scoffed. 

"Then eight months later you show up, out of the blue, expecting what?" I questioned with narrowed eyes. 

Yes, she already admitted she came tonight because she wanted to see me. But there had to have been another reason, right? Someone doesn't drive three hours just to see someone they were never meant to see again.

"No-nothing. I wanted to see you," the words stumbled past her lips. 

I ran a hand over my jaw, doing my best to keep my anger in check, but watched in slight arousal and awe as Y/N stood to her feet, blazing eyes glaring down at me.

"If it wrecked you so bad why didn't you stop me or call me?" 

It was me now who stood tall, closing the distance between us. The heat that emanated from her brought me that sense of peace that I only found with her. 

"You walked away, Y/N!" I reminded her with an edge to my voice. 

My words didn’t match the way I felt inside. 

"It's what we agreed on!" Y/N bellowed while raising her hands. 

With my hat tossed on the couch, I ran a hand through my hair. 

"We also agreed on never seeing each other again but here you are," I waved towards her.

Y/N let out a deep, wavered, breath. "Fuck, you don't make any sense, Noah! You tell me you're happy to spend time with me but then in the same breath complain that I'm standing in front of you!”

I took a small step in her direction. "Why did you come tonight?"

I needed to hear her admit the truth. I fucking needed it more than oxygen at this point.

"Oh, here we go again," she briefly pinched her eyes shut. "I already told you, I wanted to see you.

Another step towards her, I pressed my question once again. Any anger that lingered in my voice was gone, overtaken by the desperation of needing to hear her admit it. 

"Why?”

Y/N hesitated by licking her lips, but the fear in her eyes continued to hold her back. 

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head. "You're leaving in the morning and we'll go back to where we were before I came here tonight."

"Come with me,” I blurted out, without even thinking of the ramifications. 

Y/N blinked for several long moments. “Wh-what?”

I closed the distance between us with my fingers grazing over her exposed thigh, tangling in the web of her stockings; she shivered underneath my touch while peering up at me. 

"Come with me," I almost begged. 

It was the only option. I didn’t want her to leave but couldn’t spend time with her because I was too busy on the road. 

"I can't. I  have work and-."

"I thought you were an author and worked from home," I interrupted with a furrowed brow. 

Y/N reared back, almost in surprise that I remembered that. 

"We barely know each other, Noah. We might get annoyed with each other after the first night," she tried to argue

I grazed up from her thigh to her hip, squeezing it. 

"It's a big bus, plenty of space to have some time apart. We could use the time to get to know each other,” I ran my fingers over the exposed skin of her back, capturing her warmth. 

“Nobody knows their partner when they first start dating," I finished with a shrug. 

"We're not dating, though.” 

The corner of my lips turned up in a sly smirk. “Not yet.” 

"You seem pretty confident that I'll say yes," Y/N chuckled. 

My lips ghosted over hers, not quite closing the distance. "You came to see me tonight, angel. It's safe to say that I already have you."

She whimpered under my touch as my hand wrapped around her throat to tilt her away, exposing her neck to me. I left gentle kisses along her jaw before trailing to that one spot on her neck I knew made her weak. I made sure to keep my other arm around her back to keep her upright. 

"Come with me," I breathed. 

Y/N tried to deny me but the moan that fell from her precious lips gave way to how she truly felt.

"Wh-what would the guys say?"

I scraped my teeth along the shell of her ear. "They won't care."

It was a lot to ask of someone, to pack up their life to live on the road for the next four weeks. I wouldn’t force Y/N into doing this, especially if she was apprehensive, but I couldn’t let her leave again without knowing how I felt. 

"What if we realize that all this relationship is just sex?"

I briefly pulled away from the mark on her neck, grip still tight on her chin. "I can promise you, it's not just that. I want to get to know you, angel. I could wait until the tour's over to spend time with you but I don't think I can let you leave again. Not when I have you this close to me.” 

Y/N leaned into me but still had some resistance. I kept my strong gaze on her face, trying to read her expression. 

"I can't. Being with each other every day could push us apart rather than bring us together." Her hands were sprawled over my chest. 

It was true. But my heart began to hurt with his constant denial. If she cared about me like I thought she did, why wouldn’t she agree?

"Why are you so against coming with me?" I pulled away. 

Y/N scoffed. "Can you blame me? I barely know you and you're asking me to spend weeks with you."

"You barely knew who I was when you let me fuck you that night," I shot back with narrowed eyes. 

She averted my gaze. "This is different.”

"Is there someone else?” I wondered with rigid shoulders. 

"No, I've already told you; I haven't been with anyone else since you. You're all I can think about, Noah,” she enunciated her meaning with a stern shake of her head. 

I went to reach for her but felt my stomach drop as she took a large step away from me. 

No. 

"I should go," Y/N sighed. "It's late and I hate driving in the dark."

Not again. 

My lips parted to speak but quickly pulled in a tight line. I laid everything out on the line with her, letting her know how much I’d want her to stay with me. The rest was up to her. I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, one last longing glance between us. Y/N’s eyes were wet with tears but refused to let them fall. 

The aura radiated from her, bringing that familiar sense back deep within my bones as she walked past me. 

Fuck it. I’m not letting her leave again. 

With one swift movement, I pressed Y/N against the door, my thick thigh between her legs. Her beautiful doe eyes gazed up at me while mine stared down at her lips before locking our gazes together; it was over. 

Our lips attacked each other in a fiery, earth-ending kiss, and Y/N moaned into my mouth. At first, it was a fight of dominance between the two of us until she reluctantly molded into me, allowing my tongue to taste every inch of her. Her teeth dragged over my bottom lip, pulling it deeper into her mouth. The door behind her rattled as I pressed my thigh against her clit, a silent invitation; one I hoped she understood. 

Y/N leaned her head against the door, a deep moan crawling its way from her throat.

"No," I said while bringing her lips back to mine. 

It was just like how it was before between us; passionate, fire building deep within our souls as they danced together in pure euphoric bliss. Y/N’s nails scratched at the skin of my abdomen and I shivered underneath her touch. 

"Come with me," I begged against her lips. 

Her movements against my thigh were erratic, hands grasping at my skin to push and pull me. Y/N’s bottom lip jutted out and I nipped at it. I knew her body like I knew the lyrics to all of my songs. I knew what she needed to finally let go and sing for me. 

"Noah!” 

My name was choked on her tongue as her body writhed against me, scream echoing through the small area of the bus; her orgasm sounding like music to my fucking ears. 

"Fuck, angel," I covered her mouth with my hand. "You need to be quiet, okay?"

There were muffled noises from the other side of the door, indicating that everyone had returned from the bar. Y/N nodded, breathing the last bit of her orgasm into my hand while I picked her up to lay her on the couch. 

As her hands reached for my shorts, our eyes locked, as I waited not so patiently for her answer. 

"Please fuck me, Noah."

We lay on the floor, tangled in each other's webs, as my fingers traced circles over her bare shoulder. Y/N rested her cheek against my bare chest, her breathing becoming slow and even. Every part of me screamed in exhaustion, eyes begging to close even for a few moments of rest, but the nagging voice inside my mind was a pest. 

"Y/N?"

She merely hummed, unable to speak. 

I brushed my lips along her forehead, breathing in the familiarity of her scent. "I won't ask you again to come on the road with me. I told you in the beginning I won't force you to do anything you don't want to but can you promise me that when the tour is over, we can give this a shot?"

"I don't know, Noah. My last relationship fucked with my head so much I don't know how to be in something so normal." Y/N looked up at me and left an array of kisses along the tattoos on my chest.

"You don't even want to try?" I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

Suddenly, Y/N sat up with a sigh to tame her hair. "Like you said, maybe once the tour is over we can talk about things."

Slowly following her movements, I sat up with a deep sigh. "Sure."

Her breasts were round and perky as she took deep breaths. My tongue darted out to wet my bottom lip, wanting to taste her nipples once again. I drank in the curve of her spine, the softness of freckles that peppered her shoulders, and the tattoos that created an art piece on her skin. 

Now after the sex haze had faded, the tension returned, and I hated how fast a good thing between us was ruined all because I couldn’t find the right words to say to make her stay. 

Why do you? All Y/N did was fuck with your feelings and heart even more. 

Broken eyes watched her as she quickly gathered her clothes, and got dressed; never once looking my way.

"I should leave. It's late and I have to drive home. I'll see you later?" 

I swallowed the large lump in my throat, ignoring the way my heart ached deep within the confines of my chest. With my elbows resting on my knees, I nodded. 

"Bye, angel."

I sat on the edge of the bed in my hotel room, phone in one hand and black lace choker in the other. Y/N left a few hours ago and we decided to get whatever hours of sleep we could in an actual bed before hitting the road once again. I couldn’t sleep, however, my mind racing so fast I could barely keep up. 

My fingers twisted around the choker, remembering how alluring Y/N looked that first night we met. I knew I should have given it back to her, the shirt as well, but a part of me felt as if she was close while so far away. The shirt was tucked neatly in my dresser back home, the scent of her fading months ago, but I brought the choker with me everywhere, almost like a good luck charm. 

Which was something I needed right now. 

I had this feeling of dread. I was missing her deeply. This is an ache that resonates within the core of our being. It's a profound sense of longing as if a vital piece of our existence is temporarily absent. Every fiber of our being yearns for her presence, her touch, her voice. That night was burned into my memory- it was never enough. 

For the first time since I had her number, I quickly dialed Y/N. The ringing echoed throughout the darkness of my room since it was on speaker, and my knee bounced with anticipation. 

“Shit,” my heart dropped when her voicemail picked up. 

I could say so many different things but only four simple words fell from my lips. 

“Please come with me.” 

The bed next to me dipped suddenly but did nothing to wake my sleeping form. That was, until, soft familiar hands wrapped around my bare chest, lips dancing across the tattoos there. I stiffened in the embrace, one eye slowly opening to see those familiar doe eyes staring up at me. 

"Fuck, I'm so tired. Can you scoot over a bit? I'm about to fall off," Y/N yawned while covering the both of us with the blanket. 

She lay next to me, the familiar presence that I yearned for almost every night for the last handful of months, was here. She came back. 

Y/N was here.

Rolling on top of her to lock her underneath me, I breathed in the scent of her neck. 

"You came.” 

She ran a hand through my hair and then kissed my forehead. "You called."

Our lips met instantly, teeth smacking against each other, as my tongue forced its way into her mouth. I pressed my hips deep into hers, a groan sounding in the back of my throat; one that was swallowed by Y/N. 

“I missed you,” she breathed against the pulse point of my neck as she left marks along the apple and then the snake. 

I hissed in pleasure as my hands worked fast to pull at her leggings, stripping her clean of them. 

“Wait,” Y/N grabbed my hands. 

Immediately I halted my actions. “I’ll stop if you want me to.” 

“No,” she rushed out, breathless. “I’m not stopping you. It’s just-.” 

Y/N motioned to the other side of the curtain, where everyone else moved about the bus. I smirked while leaning over her, chin resting in my palm. 

“You’ll have to be a good girl and keep quiet. Can’t have them hear how pretty you sound,” I laid a chaste kiss on her lips. 

A whine-like-whimper erupted from her throat and with a quick nod, I continued to remove her clothes; Y/N soon lay naked in front of me. 

“Angel,” I breathed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this sight.” 

She hastily reached for my shorts, and soon we both lay bare in front of each other. Heated eyes grazed over every single one of my tattoos, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

I patted her thigh. “Face the wall for me.” 

Doing what I asked, I laid back down on my bunk, behind Y/N, and raised her leg over my hip, spreading her wide for me. I slipped a finger between her folds, gathering her wetness to her clit, and began rubbing in small circles. 

“So wet for me, angel,” I groaned into the back of her neck.

“Yes,” she nodded. 

I bit down on her shoulder, her hissing in euphoric bliss. “Only for me.” 

Y/N swallowed thickly. “Only you, Noah.”

With a tight grip around my aching cock, I angled the head in the perfect position; between her wet folds. 

“Keep quiet,” I demanded as I fully sank inside of her. 

Keep quiet she did not. Y/N’s moans filled the entirety of the bus so I smacked my hand over her mouth. 

“You don’t want to displease me do you, angel?” 

She shook her head in my grasp. 

I rumbled low in my chest as my pace was languid. I had her for the next four weeks, and I planned on taking my time with her. 

Y/N’s pace began to meet mine, pushing herself back against me, and I groaned with pleasure, forehead falling to her back. The tightness of her gripped my cock perfectly like it did every time, and I reveled in the burn that spread across the base of my spine. With a hand clamped over her mouth still, I started to fuck her faster and deeper. 

“Touch yourself,” I rasped, gone in ecstasy. 

Y/N’s dainty fingers began rubbing herself in quick circles and she clamped down around me. My cock throbbed inside of her as the warmth spread the entirety of my spine now with my orgasm that was so close to getting me off the edge. I placed my foot on the wall of my bunk, this time getting deeper within Y/N, and she cried out into my hand when I slammed into her; the sound of skin on skin without a doubt being heard by the guys either up front of the bus or their own bunks. 

I gazed down at Y/N and noticed the screwed lines on her forehead. 

“Safe word?” I asked, suddenly worried that I was hurting her with how hard I was slamming into her. 

“No,” she ripped my hand off her mouth. “I’m so close, Noah. Please. Harder.” 

Not wasting another second, I fucked up into her, using the wall as leverage. I wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezing the air from her, as I pulled her closer to my chest. Our limbs were tangled together but she still felt far away from me. 

The actions on her clit became sloppy and I knew she was about to jump off the edge. A white haze brushed in the corners of my vision as my cock stilled inside of her briefly before I emptied inside of her with a groan. 

“You came,” I kissed the back of her shoulder blade, almost not believing that she was lying in front of me. 

I was afraid I would wake up from this dream and we’d be hundreds of miles away from each other. 

“You called,” she keened as her orgasm ripped through her in a tidal wave.

[tinyidle]

feel much better - jyh

based on, not only coachella, but the aftermath where he poured his heart out on toktoq (🥹). im doing this on a whim from the amount of thoughts that have been going through my head. could have been a network submission but im lazy rn. tagging @strayteezsimp before i forget. wc: 1.9 k

warning: smut, slight angst + fluff, nick-naming (love, big boy, baby, miss), tons of kissing everywhere, teasing (grinding, praise, slight degradation if yousquint), morning sex (fellatio, riding [cowgirl]), unprotected sex ofc be careful irl, implied aftercare at the end, aftermath chellateez!yunho, sub!yunho ft.servicesub(?)yunho, tall!reader yes im catering you girlies for once, fem reader (girlfriend), dom!reader (mainly soft), all fiction ofc

it was the morning, and you woke up to yunho saying 'have a good night, tinys' before ending the live and switching off his phone, sniffling. you were instantly worried, thinking someone hurt his feelings.

"yun, are you okay?" you asked, hand reaching out to wipe his cold cheek stained from his previous tears.

making sure to compose himself for you, he wiped the rest of his stray tears before turning around to answering you. "yeah, im fine."

you weren't having it. "yunho, don't lie to me. your eyes are red, and you're breathing heavy. what happened?"

the man couldn't hold it in anymore as he let the dam break. you immediately went to his aid, cupping his face as you sat up some more from your previous lying position, letting his face rest on your chest as he broke down. "i was telling the live how grateful i was for being in the position im in, especially when i thought many times of giving up."

"shh, it's okay, baby." you coo at him, caressing his head as his cries slowly but surely die down. you did your best to turn his face to yours, wiping away the last of his tears before leaning down to give him a loving kiss. he reciprocated it back, love beaming all over his eyes, fully reflecting your own. "yuyu, listen to me. you made it because you didn't give up. friends family, and fans have supported you and the boys. i loved and supported you since. be proud of yourself, okay?"

the man fully relaxed in your arms now, nodding and smiling when you mentioned how you helped change his life for the better. "okay, thank you, love."

you smiled back before giving him another loving peck on the lips. "besides," you started with a slight smirk," you looked sexy on stage earlier."

yunho's eyes widened as his ears tinged red. "really?"

"of course, baby," you confirmed, moving your hand from stroking his cheek to massaging his scalp, occasionally scratching it the exact way he likes. "it was all over the internet. they wanted to know who my big boy was."

"yeah?" yunho looked up at you with a shy smile. his demeanor was contrary to the sensation that was traveling rapidly to his length. he never means to be this horny this fast, but whenever you give him praise about his visual appearance, he can't help but get at least a bit excited.

"yeah," you reassured, giving his forehead a peck. of course you knew that he was getting hot and bothered from you mentioning the compliments strangers gave him online.

you never minded, though, since you knew that he was only hard because you made it known to him that you agreed with what everyone else was saying. and only you are able to see him in all his visual glory.

trailing a hand from his raven locs to his chest, carefully palming over it as to not scare him by going too far too soon, you asked the question that honestly needed no answer from you: "can i help you feel much better, yun?"

the man almost got lost in your almost fiery touches. it was only in his hair and on his clothed chest, but he was feeling needy for you. with a small clearing of the throat, along with a nod, he gave you the go-ahead, "please, miss."

you grinned before delicately resting yunho's head on a pillow while straddling his lap. you held on to his face above him, adoration all over you before leaning down to show your appreciation through your lips on his. yunho happily kissed back, soon after wrapping his long arms around your torso. unfortunately for you and him, the kiss had to end, with you giving him one last peck on the nose before trailing your kisses down to his jaw.

you gently sucked him there on the right side of it, making the man whimper out. "miss.. m- feels good," he praised you as his arms were now weakly holding on to you, hips grinding onto your pretty still ones. you chuckled at him already crumbling but decided not to tease him any further and simply get to where he needed you most.

wiggling down to his knees, you held onto yunho's waist bands of his shorts and boxers. you looked up at him for permission, and you were met with a small, 'please'. as you pulled his confinement down, yunho's length displayed itself: long, thick, girthy, and veiny-- as if he was edged for hours. it's only been half an hour.

"aww, look at my big boy's needy cock," you cooed at him, holding on to it with great care as yunho shifted from having himself get touched by you for the first time this week. you giggled as you heard your boyfriend whine and lightly buck his hips up, slapping his thigh for being impatient. he huffed a bit, but lay back down as you gently pushed him down.

your legs were hanging off the bed, but you didn't want to be kneeling on the edge of the bed, so you decided to arch your back high as your knees reached your chest while leaning down to your boyfriend's length. the view in yunho's was magnificent: your shorts-covered ass was unintentionally up in the air for him to see, along with your beautiful face close to where he needs relieving the most.

all thoughts about how you looked in front of him went away as you pressed chaste and gentle kiss after kiss to his hard shaft. with every smooch you complimented him. "your dancing captivates many," smooch! "you have the most elegant body known to man," smooch! "despite your caretaking persona, you are a softie, my baby boy," smooch! smooch! smooch! "i love you so so much, yuyu."

yunho constantly said thank you after every line of praise, only moaning loud as your kisses became very sloppy, to the point that you had his tip in your mouth. preparing yourself, you sucked on him deeper and deeper, until there was less than one inch left of him to see that wasn't in your mouth. you shifted yourself a bit to get rid of any potential numbness in your thighs, which only aided to the look of your ass swinging side-to-side for him.

he was close. "mommy, im about to cum! please, let me cum," yunho begged, hips being uncontrollable as the last bit of him was now unconsciously forced in your throat. helping him reach that high, you cup and massaged his balls nearly the same way you do to his scalp. "nngh~" he whined, gasping as his cum caught in your throat when he finally orgasmed. you happily took in every drop, making sure to lick his slit clean of anything else.

however, you weren't done yet. "m-miss?" yunho slightly panicked as he saw you get off him and strip down to nothing. you then tugged on his shirt, to which he took off with slight confusion. sure, it was currently hot in the room, but why not turn on a fan?

you once again straddled your boyfriend, this time on his pelvis, and grinded on him like before. yunho groaned as he felt your wet center reach the base of his re-hardening length. "i want you to make you feel much better in me, and then i would like you to make me cum. does that sound okay, baby?" you suggested as you made a puddle on your boyfriend's lap.

yunho was close to crashing again, but once he heard your proposal, he quickly bobbed his head up and down, saying, "whatever you, want, love."

smiling, you lift yourself up and hold yunho's length to your aching cunt. slowly getting down, you feel his head piercing through your hole. despite the dull to semi-fiery burn, you kept going down until you sat completely down on your boyfriend's length. after getting yourself together, you looked at yunho to see how he was doing.

"how's my, mmh, baby doing down there?" he was fucked out, to say the least. his mouth was unironically open, his breathing was shallow and his length was repeatedly pulsing inside of you. meanwhile he was feeling you squeeze him in the best way possible, your thighs heating up his own as they almost meshed together with the heat of you both.

it took him a while before he could reply to your inquiry, "feels very good, mommy. you're so tight-- draining me."

"oh really?" you smirked. you knew that staying in this position would torture both him and you, but you did want to have some quick fun with him. kneeling above him with him still inside of you, you swung your hips down on him, slamming yourself down. you held in a shriek as you unintentionally reached deep inside of you.

yunho, however, hiccupped with a high-pitched squeal from the impact, tugging onto the sheets next to him as he watched you. you soon enough found a rhythm that would help your legs not burn, while your boyfriend's face was burning from the amount of passion you put into every one of your slams on his length. after a while of you bouncing, you went all the way down and squeezed yourself on him the best way you could. hearing the man whine and groan, you whispered in his ear, "cum for me, baby boy."

and he did. you continued to lightly bounce on his still-hard length as he came inside of you. you stilled as you felt the last of his fluids enter you. gasping and whimpering, he held onto your hips now, very ready to have you fall apart on him. "please, miss," he pleaded, eyes now glossy from you still squeezing around his length as you grinded on his length, "please let me fuck you. wanna make mommy cum."

if not for you wanting to release, you would have teased the living daylights out of him. instead, you rested your head onto the crook of yunho's neck, kissing the area behind his ear before whispering, "make mommy cum, baby boy."

gripping the area between your hips and ass, yunho found wat little strength he had left in him to hoist his lower self up, knees bent as your feet almost touched his. you were only a few centimeters shorter than him, but it sometimes felt a bit off to be doing positions like this unless it's initiated. yunho, being desperate to get you off yet too tired to fuck you any other way, thrusted himself up into you repeatedly, causing you to actually shriek this time.

"fuck, yunho. fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" you cried out on his neck. he was directly hitting your sweet spot with quick succession this way, causing you to try and squeeze him with every thrust in you can. yunho was falling apart just as quick as you were.

with one final thrust, you orgasmed, repeatedly praising yunho with how well he could use his endowment. he was also cumming once more, a very sobby cry as he continuously thanked you. "mommy's the best, i love your pussy so much-".

thankfully today was a rest day, so all that you two could do is clean up, cuddle each other, and possibly have a round 3 in the evening.

literally listened to 'carnival' by ys (kanye west and ty dolla $ign) while making this, which has the famous line she ride the dick like [a] carnival. kind of fitting if you ask me

[pixxiies]

hii, how are you?? i've got a req for you to write! (the explanation is a little long please bare with me) anyways to sum it up, its kinda based of the song casual by doja cat. if you dont really the idea i think you'll kinda get it once you listen to the song, (and im not really good at writing) but to sum it up, reader and chris have got a situationship, or like their just casually hooking up w/ eachother (i dont know what the label is 😭😭) but they act like lovebirds tg, like im talking cuddling when their watching a movie w the boys, getting eachother gifts, ALL that mushy cute shit.. chris realizes that he's inlove w/ reader, and y'know how hes like afraid of commitment and proper relationships? so instead of telling her that he is, he avoids her for like 2 days,and tries to fuck with someone else to forget about her for a bit. when she comes into the house to hangout with nick, she hears him fucking another chick, and she gets JEALOUSS let me tell you. she pulls that poor girl out of the room, telling her to get dressed and when the girl leaves she starts going off at chris (gettin a lil angsty). but like the whole point of me wanting it to be based off the song was kind of so that you could realize it was based off the song, so maybe u can add lyrics! (idk, just a thought) "if you is a player, i dont think ima play with ya" , "if you wanna lay with her, why don't you just stay with her?". he tries to deflect, and i guess reader kind of confronts him about how she thinks he wants more then hooking up and he denies it, but she knows hes lyin. "you say you don't want a girlfriend but when we are in person, you always act so different, you make it all seem perfect", "you hold me when we wake up, say you like me with no makeup", "is it casual, or are you tryna spend your life with me?". anyways in my lovely optimistic mind, reader tells him its ok because shes inlove w him too, and he finally doesn't deny it. she tells him shes scared too, but they'll go through it together cuz their in luvv 😛 anyways lets just say the night ends with some slow soft sex between reader and chris. "take it off, follow me out, let me in don't shut me out" i understand if you can't do this req, but i saw your post saying you needed reqs to write on a trip tmr, and i thought of this on the spot so sorry if its really shit 😭

ꨄ ⌒ ⋆｡ ˚ CASUAL

│⊹ warnings ⋆ ;; angst if u squint, y/n is used like twice sorryyy, p in v, pet names (baby nd mama), unprotected sex, lowercase intentional, and word count is 2.2k

│⊹ pairing ⋆ ;; chris sturniolo x fem!reader

│⊹ haven’s notes ⋆ ;; hey.. how y’all doin 😙.. sorry for being gone AGAIN i keep having writers block but i wrote smth for my script so i got motivation to write again 🤌

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you have been waiting impatiently at the triplets front door for about five minutes now. finally, chris opened it for you. “took you long enough.” you scoff with a smile as you walk in. “sorry, matt almost started a fire.” the brunette boy replied, scratching his chin when closing the door.

“what?” you laugh while kicking off your shoes and leaving them on the shoe rack. "oh by the way, i got the shirt you were planning to buy." you giggle softly, handing him a bag. "oh shit! thank you!" he says excitedly as he pulls you in for a warm hug. "of course, c." you give him a toothy smile. you notice how his facial expression changes a little bit once you smiled but you brushed it off. the two you walk up the stairs into the living room and kitchen. you saw both matt and nick try to cook dinner or something. “matt! your gonna burn it’!” nick exclaimed before turning to see you.

“what are you guys even making?” you snicker as you walked up to nick to give him a small hug. “burgers but matt almost started a fire trying to grill the meat.” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “let me help” you say, walking to the stove and shooing matt away. “but at least i didn’t, i wont do it again!” he stated while crossing his arms. “matt relax, i got this” you say while flipping the patty. the boys talk for a while and from time to time offer to help but your stubbornness always said no.

chris left an argument that he was talking about with his brothers and waddled over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders. “you sure you don’t need any help?” he asked which you reply with a nod. once you finally finished making the food, you plated them nicely on the table. “bon appetite!” you laugh while sitting down next to chris.

the four of you eat while talking about a random topic or plans of what to do for the following week. “do you guys wanna watch something?” matt offered when he finished eating. “im down” you reply and the two others agree as well.

now, nick is currently putting the dishes in the sink as you, matt, and chris are all sitting down on the couch to debate what to watch. “nah i don’t wanna watch a horror movie.” chris whined when you suggested for them to see one. “ugh fine, maybe batman again?” matt quickly agrees, of course.

chris had been laying down on your chest for about an hour or so into the movie. your hands rested on the back of his head, your fingers scratching his scalp gently from time to time and he let out small hums whenever you did. after a few minutes you desperately needed to go use the bathroom. "chris" you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear. "hm?" he hummed while looking up at you. "gotta piss, get up" you state as he slowly got up from your chest.

after you did your necessities, you walked back to the living room and sat down next to chris. only this time he patted his chest, signaling you to lay down on it. of course, you don't mind since you and chris were always so touchy so you did. while watching the last 30 minutes or so of the movie, you heard his heartbeat start pounding against his chest rapidly. mentally, you started to count each one. and you did this till the movie ended.

"thanks for coming over!" nick said to you as the triplets started to walk you downstairs. "of course! i love hanging out with you guys." you reply, looking at each of the small smiles on their faces but except for chris. he looked rather stressed and confused. instead of saying anything about it, you simply just brushed it off. you said goodbye to the three boys then left.

it had been two days since you heard anything from chris. you asked nick and matt about him and they both said that he was okay and didn't know what was wrong with him. you began to get worried, scared if it was something you did or said. so, to clear your head you decided to invite nick to the mall since it was somewhere you guys both enjoyed going together. you got to the familiar entrance of the sturniolo home, quickly seeing an excited smile from nick as soon as you knocked on the door. "hey! you ready?" you ask while pulling him into a small hug.

"yeah! let me just go grab my things real quick." the brunette boy said as he let you inside. you didn't bother taking off your shoes since you two were about to leave. upon walking up the stairs you saw matt's face that was mixed with discomfort and trying not to laugh. "what?" you and nick ask him. "whatever you do, don't go downstairs." he mumbled while grabbing something from the fridge then walking back to his room. you give nick a look, he gives you one back that obviously meant to go see what matt was talking about.

hesitantly, you leave your bag on the couch and then walk downstairs to chris' room while nick grabs his things. upon being about three steps down, your ears immediately fill up with moans. both chris', and someone else's. another girl. your cheeks get red as your feet think before your mind and now you're in front of his door. with no hesitation, you grab the knob and swing open the door. as soon as you did so, chris looked back quickly. your eyes observed what was going on. you saw the mystery girl completely blissed out with her face dug inside a pillow and completely naked. you saw chris' hands wrapped around her hips firmly and how his front pieces of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. "what the fuck chris?"

you feel your cheeks burning up in frustration as you watch chris struggle to put his pants back on. "dude! get out!" he said while the blonde girl turned around and saw you at the doorway, quickly blushing out of embarrassment. "no, you get out!" you tell the girl in his bed loudly, her getting up as soon as you said anything towards her. you and chris make heavy eye contact as she got changed and got her things.

she closed the door upon leaving and you immediately start bashing chris. "chris what the fuck is wrong with you? you ignore me for two days and I find you fucking another chick?" you argue as he quickly tries to find something to say. "you can't just hook up with me casually then ignore me then hook up with someone else." your sigh is shakey, trying not to start crying in front of him. "I feel bad for her even because you're probably just gonna ignore her and then hook up with some-" you were finally cut off by chris.

"why are you arguing about this like we are more than friends y/n?" he argues back, taking a breath to continue. "you're saying this shit like we are together, we aren't anything but friends." the brunette boy said while crossing his arms. "friends that hook up almost every week?" you laugh sarcastically, you process what he said for another few seconds. "don't act like I don't know about how your heart was racing when i was layin' down on your chest the last time i came over." you note. "is we hooking up something casual for you or are you looking to spend your life with me?" your voice is unstable and shakey, biting back the tears coming up on your waterline.

"fine, i'll admit, y/n." he finally said, his voice evenly shakey as yours. "I realized that i'm in love with you that night. you know im scared of commitment. i ignored you 'nd hooked up with another girl to try to get over you." chris sighed and his eyes softening. "im scared of being in a relationship, you have seen what my fans say even if im standing next to a girl—" you cut him off by walking towards him and shutting him up with a soft kiss. you can tell he is surprised when he hesitated to place his hands on you. “im in love with you too chris, and i am scared too.” you say softly as you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“but you know we can work it out together.” you sigh while your eyes look up into his. chris’ hands planted on your waist, rubbing small circles on them. “you think so?” he whispered. you nod in reply, pulling him into another kiss. “‘m sorry.” he whispered again, desperately kissing you like his life depended on it. you start to tug on the hem of his black tank top and backed up a little bit so he could notice that your trying to take it off. he pulled it over his head himself and quickly went back for a kiss. he turns you so your back is facing the bed and he guided you to it. you lay back on his bed and he quickly reaches to the waist band of your shorts. “can i take these off?” he asked with his tone laced with need. you nod eagerly, him taking not another second to pull them down. he then went to your shoes, untying both laces and placing them on the floor.

you watched in awe as he touched your body so gently. he cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, his tongue grazing against yours lightly. he backed up with a smile, and looked into your eyes for a few seconds. with one hand, he went down in between your thighs and hooked his fingers on your panties and pushed them to the side, with the other hand pulling down his shorts.

he held onto your hip while he slowly slid himself inside of you, both of you letting a little hiss. his thrusts are slow but firm and his grip on your hip was light. you whimpering softly and let your body relax as his hips moved in and out of you. chris grabbed your leg and hooked it around his torso, being able to plunge deeper inside of you. “fuck, such a good girl f’me.” he panted with a little smile on his face. you whine back in reply, completely blissed in ecstasy and pleasure. his hips rutted a bit faster inside your puffy cunt as it suctioned his cock. “fuck, feels so good.” you sigh while leaning your head back into the pillow. “yeah? m’cock feels good mama?” he groaned quietly, you nod weakly.

you let out a small moan when his tip grazed that sticky patch inside of you. you arch your back off the bed as the knot in your stomach began to tighten. “‘m so close-“ you gasp gently while the brunette boy started to drill deeper inside of you. “mhm, gonna cum for me baby?” he whispered gently as his thumb went down and rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, this just sending you over the edge. “fuck! do-dont stop please please” you whine as your mouth fell agape. the knot in your stomach slowly started coming undone from his thrusts. “‘m cumming!” a small squeak left your lips. “shit, im right behind ya’” he whimpered as his hips remained the same pace. your stomach muscles clenched together as you came on his cock, then you felt him fill you up with his lukewarm cum. he fucked both of you through each other’s high before he stopped.

“you okay?” chris hummed while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. you nod shyly while attempting to sit up. “i should go then, nick is probably waiting for me.” you chuckle a bit, whining quietly as chris pulled out of your pussy. “alright, i’ll still see you today then?” he asked as he helped you clean up and change. you hum in reply, standing up and wobbling a little bit. he put his boxers and shorts back on before turning back to you. “drive safe.” he smiled, pulling you in for a little kiss. “i know, see you later chris.” you smile back. you left his room with him behind you, your shoes in his hands.

upon going up the stairs you saw nick with his headphones on, thankfully. “ready to go?” he asked, his tone annoyed since you took so long. you nod with a laugh as you grab your bag and shoes from chris. “i’ll put them on in the car.” you say while you both start walking downstairs.

“what took you so long by the way?” the brunette boy asked when putting his headphones in his tote bag. “sorry, something happened with chris and i had to help” you lie terribly. nick could tell in your eyes that you were lying. “you fucked him didn’t you?” “nick!”

│⊹ haven's notes part two ⋆ ;; IM FINALLY DONE !!!!1

│⊹ taglist ⋆ ;; @deftonesmatt @mattsluttywaist @luverboychris @sturniol0s @mattscoquette @xoxo4chrisss @sweetstars-posts @bambi-slxt

[hellishjoel]

what happens after

2.9k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader

← masterlist | notifications blog

summary: A string that pulled you out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar. And what happens after. 

warnings/information: swearing, alcohol consumption, minor injury, blood, light angst, allusions to smut, one-night stand vibes, soft!joel (thank you kiwi!)

A/N: I have been working on multiple wips, but then this idea struck, and I wrote it in a day and a half flat! Thank you to @kiwisbell for beta-ing this one shot!! It would not sound as clean as it does without her <3 love you kiwi!! And thank you @thetriumphantpanda for being my cheerleader when I was screaming about this idea and obsessively writing it <3 Lastly, I've decided to start using banners because I was introduced to @saradika's blog and I'm OBSESSED! Please consider reblogging and checking out their masterlist!

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“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Shit,” the first-name-only man named Joel mutters. 

You’re standing in his kitchen, feet circled in glass shards. The light above the kitchen sink spotlights a small droplet of blood that glides with vigor down your foot. You barely feel the cut, but the sting is underlying. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you blurt, the reality of what’s happened finally hitting you. You were just filling a glass of water. Perhaps you were snooping inside the handsome stranger's home. You were curious about the older, southern-charm-filled man with the barely-there smile who took you home after an hour of casual flirting over drinks. 

Joel grabs your waist since your feet are frozen in place, afraid to move. He uses his upper body strength to hoist you up and out of harm's way, assuring that he doesn’t step on any spare shards himself as he rests your body to sit on his countertop. Your hands gently grip onto the breadth of his broad shoulders, fingers delicately pressing into his warm skin as your body lightly shudders from the chill of the counter.  

“Sit,” he barks. 

You nip at your bottom lip, soft and tired eyes glancing at the blood that trickles onto his floor. 

“Did you step on any?” he presses, wetting a paper towel, gathering the pieces on the floor, and carefully navigating them into the trash bin. 

“No, didn’t step on any. But when it broke…” You tilt your head down, Joel following your eyeline to see how a shard had nicked your skin after the glass had shattered into tiny fragments. He sighs quietly and flattens his hand to coast up and down his stubble-filled jawline in thought. You purse your lips and hesitantly meet his eyes. 

“Just a scratch,” you say, shrugging it off. 

Joel brings your foot up, heel resting on the edge of the countertop as he observes the two-inch-long scrape that barely breaches the surface of your skin. He grabs a tissue and lightly wets it, placing it over the scratch and adding pressure as you wince. He instructs your hands to take his place. “Stay,” he says before exiting the kitchen. 

“I’m not a dog, you know! I know more commands than just sit and stay.” You huff as you lean your head back, gently thudding your skull into one of his cabinets as you echo out your pain with a whispered curse. 

A light flicks on down the dark hallway, and you observe his quiet home in silence. The glass of water was your initial goal. After Joel fell asleep beside you, tuckered out after midnight activities, you caught a second wind of energy and found yourself staring at the ceiling in boredom. 

Sneaking out from under the covers, cupping your tits as you searched the floor for your underwear. Everything was a mess, socks thrown about and shoes a tripping hazard in the middle of the doorway. You pulled on his shirt he wore at the bar. It smelled of pine and a little bit of Old Spice deodorant. Attempting not to wake him, you quietly felt your feet meet the cold hardwood as you snuck out of his bedroom. You didn’t know much about him besides that he was a casual flirt. The southern accent gave his origins away. And god, did he know how to press you up against his truck just right. 

His body was perfectly chiseled marble. Broad body with a stocky torso and large, calloused hands that melted into the soft skin of your cheeks. His tongue licked your lips before he explored your mouth. Your hands were in his dark chocolate hair, those wispy curls that lined his forehead, and the perfect crow’s feet by his eyes. It was all a blur after that. The amount of times you came was damn near blinding, which made it all the more frustrating when you couldn’t sleep. You slept the best in your own bed, not a stranger’s. 

The hallway light flicks off, and Joel returns with a small first aid kit. He doesn’t look at you but rather focuses on cleaning the small wound with a little soap and more warm water. He’s controlled the bleeding; the cut was too small to make a real fuss anyway. You whimper as he adds an over-the-counter antiseptic cream to prevent infection. 

“Shush,” he whispers in false annoyance, brows furrowed in concentration as his body looms over yours, foreheads barely brushing as you both watch his hands carefully mend you. 

“You shush,” you counter, watching as a small smile breaks across his face. He playfully scoffs after he applies a small brown bandaid across the expanse of your foot. 

“What, were you sneakin’ out on me?” he asks, voice low and drenched with sleep. You feel bad for waking him. 

You tighten your lips in a furled smile, your soft hand gently cupping his rugged cheek. “I don’t do that. Anymore.” 

Joel scoffs playfully, his hand reaching up past you to the knob of the cabinet by your head. He slyly picks up a glass and fills it with water at the sink before offering it to you. 

“Thanks,” you mutter with slight embarrassment, the back of your neck catching some heat as you gently sip on the cold water. 

Joel crosses his arms, curiously gazing over you adorning his shirt. He had worn it earlier to the bar. He was meant to meet his brother, Tommy, but he never showed. Joel decided, since he was already there, that he could kick back an ice-cold beer or two. You were looking too pretty, silently staring at the flatscreen above the bar, playing with the straw in your drink. 

“Seat taken?” he had asked, to which you gave him that gut-clenching, glowy smile. The first thing he found himself sneaking glimpses of were your perfect lips. Whether you were grinning, speaking, or sucking on your straw, he wondered where else those pretty lips would look so perfect. 

For the next hour, his singular goal was to kiss you, to taste you. Anything after that was considered a bonus. He had never felt this feverish for a kiss in so long. To taste someone. To melt. So when you batted your eyelashes and gently landed your warm hand on his upper thigh, he was hooked. Luckily, so were you. 

After midnight and his head hit the pillow, he was out. Until he woke to a crash coming from further inside the house, and the other half of his bed was empty. He found a pair of sweats and, half-asleep, found the source of the noise. And there you were, bare-legged, shirt dangling by your upper thighs, and your hand outstretched, holding nothing but a figment of air. He looked down at your feet, seeing that a glass must have slipped through your fingers. 

“So if you don’t sneak out on men anymore in the middle of the night,” Joel continues as he helps you down off the counter, your feet still cautious as they hit the ground before you both exit the kitchen, “what were you doin’?” 

You follow him to his living room. He pulls the string to a standing lamp before he settles down in a large chair. From the looks of it, that’s his chair. He falls into it perfectly, like he’s probably done a million and one times after a long day of work or a lazy Sunday watching football. You settle on the taupe couch beside his chair and set your glass of water down on the side table. 

“I just had a hard time falling asleep. I thought maybe a glass of water would help.” 

Joel nods slowly, eyes grazing over your body: your bandaged foot, accompanied by bare legs and his worn shirt that hung oversized on you. He liked the sight. His eyes flitted back up to your own, watching as you slowly surveyed his living room with a hint of curiosity. 

You abandon your spot on the couch, walking up to a bookshelf with your hands lightly clasped behind your back. Despite being a tad quiet and very broody, he seems like a complex guy. His interests are scattered, from a manual on the birds of North America to a collector’s edition of Fitzgerald’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Your fingers stroke the old book's spine, turning to a small framed photo of him and a young girl. He has a daughter—of course he did. 

Joel looks younger, hugging the girl at his side with his arm wrapped around her shoulders while she dangled a set of keys in the air, an impossibly infectious smile on her face that made her cheeks glow. Joel’s hair was a lot darker. Thankfully, he still had all of its fullness. Pretty curls licking at the ends of each strand, no salt and pepper in sight like he has now. Aging suits him. 

“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?” 

Joel watches from afar as you admire the silver frame and its contents. That picture was from several years ago when Sarah was a teenager, and she had just passed her driver’s test. On her first try, too. They did lots of practicing in the shopping mall’s parking lot after hours. She was no natural, though. And Joel wasn’t the best teacher, with only a pinch of patience to his name. But she begged him to practice nearly every damn day after school. She wanted to be the first of her friends to have her license.

“Sarah,” he says with a fond smile, just happy upon speaking her name. “She’s at Texas U, studying…” He pauses and shakes his head, always forgetting the long and strung-out major. He closes his eyes and puts his head down to think. “Geosystems engineering and hydrogeology. What that means, don’t ask.” 

You give him a crooked smile before placing the photo back in its rightful spot. You picked up a few other pieces, Joel explaining them in a sentence or less. 

“Photography books?”

“Sarah’s. She does it as a hobby.” 

That explains the vintage camera one shelf down. Your fingers find the neck of an acoustic guitar that was resting against the bookshelf, playfully wiggling an eyebrow at him. It was beautiful, finished with a light wood stain, and the strings were just freshly tightened. He played, and often. Now you noticed all the small guitar picks of varying colors that littered nearly every shelf. He could play guitar, but could he sing? You decided it was a tad too personal to ask, but you’d keep it in your back pocket. 

You hum and hold up an old football trophy with his name etched on the nameplate, cocking your eyebrow playfully. 

“MVP?” 

Joel simply closes his eyes and shrugs as he purses his lips, his silent way of saying no big deal. 

You both sneer playfully, admiring the other little tidbits of Joel. And now you had his last name from that trophy. Joel Miller. He disappears into the kitchen while you keep exploring. Old southern cookbooks, more sports memorabilia, plant and nature guides, along with a hiking pamphlet for the local area. 

Tiredness sets in behind your eyes. You can feel it in your body, the way you’re slowly growing heavier, and standing is too much of a chore. Your eyes flick up to the window once you’ve sat back down on the couch, seeing the distant orange of a rising sun through his windows. 

Joel returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand, with hot steam rolling off the top like billowing smoke. 

“You take cream? Sugar?”

You shake your head and take the coffee as it is, letting your fingers get accustomed to the warmth of the mug. “This is fine. Thanks.” 

Joel tips his head, chin pointing to the door. “I’ll grab you a blanket. We can sit on the porch swing. If you’d like,” he offers, to which you nod. Joel grabs the blanket that's folded at the end of the couch, and you follow him out the front door. It’s a little chilly. The grass is glistening with morning dew. Joel sits down first and puts his arm around the back of the porch swing. 

He puts out his hand, offering to take your coffee. You wrap the blanket around the top of your shoulders and pull it tight around you, small hands clutching it around your chest as you fall in beside him. You settle your head on his shoulder, and once he’s returned your mug, he gently runs his hand up and down your covered arm. 

Joel can smell distant perfume and the eucalyptus shampoo you’ve recently used. You can feel him set his chin at the top of your head, both admiring the sun starting to rise beyond the houses huddled around the street’s small cul-de-sac. The morning chill disappears once the sun arrives for its shift, humming as you feel the warmth that seeps through your stomach from the coffee. 

“You make one hell of a cup of joe, Joel.” 

He lets out a breathy chuckle through his nose. 

“Thanks.” 

As the sun rises higher in the sky, you feel that it’s time to go. Not because Joel is rushing you or things are feeling awkward after a one night stand. It was just time. 

After you finish your coffee, Joel walks you back inside. He sets your mugs in the sink, tiredly rubbing his eyes before he follows you to his bedroom. With his help, you’re able to piece together your wardrobe from the night before. 

He snuffs out a laugh as you turn your back to him to take off his shirt, changing into the one you came with. 

“S’nothing I haven’t seen already.” 

“Wouldn’t you like that, Miller,” you tease before you secure the top, grabbing your purse and assuring you have stuffed your cell phone, wallet, and keys inside. 

Joel pushes himself off his bed, a strange feeling inside him as he watches you get ready to leave. That’s how this sort of thing worked, one-night stands. But he enjoyed you and your company beyond what happened in the bedroom. You’re delightfully chatty and a tad clumsy, but there’s no denying that last night into this morning was one of the best days he’s had in a while. 

“Do you need a ride back to the bar? To get your car?” he asks once you’ve returned from the bathroom, vying for more time with you. Perhaps he could make breakfast, or you both could finally fall asleep after a long night. 

“No, thank you, though. My friend is on her way to pick me up.” 

Joel nods gently and stands silently with his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweats. He walks you to the door, his living room flooded with the orange hue of early morning light. He sees a car slowly pull up to his driveway, to which you look up to him with a light, tired smile. 

“Get some rest,” Joel mutters quietly, his own voice laced deep with a need for sleep. “And take care of your foot.” 

“Thanks. Will do.” You playfully salute him, and he opens the door for you. He walks you down the porch steps, both of you casually smiling in an unsure way of how to say goodbye. Joel is the first one to make a move. His hand settles on your waist, stopping your movements as he pulls you into his front. His head dips down, and he shares one last kiss with you. The lips and smile that lured him in the first place. Soft and gentle, unlike the hungry and eager ones from last night, where he pressed you up against his truck.

You can’t help but smile and lace your arms loosely around his neck, kissing him back as a gentle thank you for everything and sorry for breaking your water glass. You smile as you pull away, just a few inches as one of the hands you had weakly resting on his broad shoulder moves to cup his grey stubbled cheek. 

He was so handsome, too handsome to only see just once. You place one last peck to his lips before he releases your waist with slight reluctance, sighing as you step inside your friend’s car. Joel watches as the car circles around the cul-de-sac, making their way down the road. Joel clears his throat and bends down to grab the newspaper that was tossed by the grass. 

Once inside, the house felt utterly empty again. No woman had been here in so long, looked at him the way you did in ages. He wouldn’t pull two mugs down from the kitchen cabinets for a while. He wouldn’t share his bed any time soon. He’d wondered if he’d see you again. And maybe you two could just talk because, frankly, he enjoyed that part too. 

Sex and the physical connection he shared with you was one thing, but what happens after might be what he’ll cherish the most. The banter, the conversation, falling asleep beside one another, or at least the attempt to do so. Joel would remember those fragments of happiness, the little things that brought him warmth that spread through his chest. Until then, or until he sees you again, he’ll revel in the memories shared. 

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[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 8

Warnings: swearing, angst, references to sex

The compound was tense the week after Cookie left. Tony was still pissed that she was gone and he couldn't get his favorite cookies. On top of that, fixing the Avengers gym was a major undertaking thanks to the holographic projectors that were used for team training simulations. Tony stood and watched as Bucky did most of the clean up before the tech team went in to replace everything he had destroyed.

Everyone was walking on eggshells as they waited for Nick Fury to return from off world. Of course he already knew what happened but was looking forward to bitching out the people who pushed her to leave. He was due sometime this week.

Sharon tried to get close to Bucky but he wanted to wallow by himself. He also shunned Nat who tried to distract him with her Widow seduction techniques. Anytime they were in the same room with Bucky, they were trying to get his attention. They would flirt, wear sexy and revealing outfits, act helpless so they could turn to him to open a jar or reach a higher shelf or something equally dumb. Bucky didn't really see through their efforts like the rest of the team did, he just didn't care what either of them said or did.

One morning Nat slid up to Bucky and started rubbing his arm as he drank his coffee. He looked at the hand on his arm then picked it up and pushed it away from him like it was diseased. Sharon stepped in and tried to get between him and Nat but he rebuffed her as well. It ended in a fight in the common room, both women ended up in medical, Sharon had a broken nose while Nat had cracked ribs and both had various scratches and bruises.

Bucky had just turned away from them and leaned on the counter to finish his coffee, seemingly oblivious to the women fighting right behind him.

Tony had enough and had Friday lock both women in their own rooms until Fury returned and decided what to do with them. He snapped at Bucky "I'm getting really sick of your little harem with their attempts to seduce you and fighting with each other. You need to find a way to convince them you aren't interested."

Bucky shrugged "I don't know what you want me to do, Stark. I don't speak to either of them, except to tell them to leave me alone and I don't do anything to encourage them. I don't want either of them and I keep telling them but they won't stop." He sighed "I just want Cookie."

The morning after Cookie went to the Harlan Thrombey book launch, Bucky was sitting next to Steve, both eating the omelettes Sam made for them, when Nat entered the room "Gee Barnes, looks like your precious Cookie has moved on already."

Bucky sighed and shook his head but didn't say anything.

Nat took that as a sign to keep going "She ended up in the gossip pages, seen leaving a book release party with Boston's most eligible, and notorious, bachelor." She smirked when she heard Bucky's breath catch "Ransom Drysdale has a different debutante, model or actress on his arm every week but this new woman is a mystery." She quoted the article she was reading on her phone. "There's a bunch of pictures of him with other women. Cookie was definitely a step down for this guy."

She snapped at Bucky "Why are you pining for some dumpy little analyst when I'm right here?"

Bucky could feel his control waning he turned and snarled at her "I don't fucking want you! Leave me alone. What the fuck are you doing out of your room?"

Nat shrugged "I have my ways"

Tony skidded to a stop, out of breath "There you are, Romanoff. Do I need to put you in a holding cell? The big guys room? Stop trying to stir up more trouble and leave Barnes alone!"

Nat scoffed "Fine, I'll go." She rubbed her shoulder against Bucky and purred "You know where to find me."

Bucky pulled away from her, then looked over at Tony in shock, he never imagined Tony would stand up for him. He softly spoke "Thank you, Tony."

Tony nodded "I think we need to have Romanoff and Carter checked by medical again."

He looked at Bucky and smirked "You're not hideous but they have a level of obsession with you that doesn't seem natural. I want to be sure they are both completely clear of that serums influence before we even consider putting them back out in the field."

Bucky nodded, thinking "It's interesting that I'm fine and we haven't had any problems with Yelena, maybe she'll know something more about that serum and the 'cure'."

Tony hummed "Well, you have the super soldier juice and they mentioned having to dose you repeatedly but yeah, maybe Yelena can shed some light. Friday, where is Miss Belova?"

"She's in her quarters, boss. She hasn't left since returning from kidnapping Cookie."

Tony nodded at Bucky "I'll let you know if I find anything. If Romanoff bothers you, tell Friday and we'll put her in a holding cell until Fury returns."

After talking to Yelena and consulting with Bruce and Dr Cho, And a trip to Antonia's holding cell, Tony discovered that Antonia had used an updated version of the serum after Yelena released all of the widows. The cure worked but only partially, and it seemed that the orders that Sharon and Natasha had been given were still floating around in their heads, making them act out. Yelena had voluntarily locked herself in her room after all the drama with Antonia, as she took being controlled again very hard and didn't trust herself.

Tony called the team to move Nat and Sharon to holding cells since Nat had escaped her room once but when they went to find the women Sharon was still in her room but Natasha was nowhere to be found.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same morning, outside of Boston...Cookie woke up, closing her eyes as quickly as she opened them. Too bright, the room was all windows. She groaned as she became more aware, she felt some new aches in her body, most noticeably between her legs. She also felt an arm around her waist and that she had no clothing on.

A warm body behind her moaned "Relax. It's early and Sunday." Pulling her closer.

Cookie turned to look at him, in the early morning light and with his messy bedhead, she realized the man looked a lot like Steve Rogers. The thought made her giggle, until he turned her so she was facing him and pulled her close until she felt his morning erection pressed up against her "I know you're not laughing at me, sweetheart." He started kissing down her neck and grinding up against her until they were caught up in each other again.

A few hours later Cookie felt her stomach grumble "Ransom" she whispered with no response "Ransom."

She pushed on his shoulder and he groaned "nooo"

She started tracing down his side until he choked back a laugh and grabbed her hands "What is it, Cookie? I'm tryna sleep here."

"Ransom! I'm hungry so you need to feed me or I need to go home and get some food."

Ransom started pushing up against her "I've got something to feed you, right-"

Cookie elbowed him in the ribs "Really Ransom? What are you, 12? I need some food." She sat up "I should get home, I've got chores to do"

Ransom scoffed "Chores? That's what maids are for."

Cookie got up and found her clothes "Yeah, well not all of us have trust funds so we can afford to hire help."

He sat up and watched as she dressed.

Once she was somewhat respectable looking, for a walk of shame, Cookie turned to Ransom, who had started playing with his phone once she was dressed. After leaning down to give him a kiss she stood to leave "Thanks, Ran, I needed that. It was fun. Maybe I'll see you around."

Ransom looked up "Do you need a ride or something?"

Cookie smiled "No, my uber is almost here, I'm good."

He leered at her "I don't do relationships, baby, but you have my number if you wanna do it again."

She giggled "Yeah, sure. I'm going to wait out front for my car, so I'll see you."

When Cookie arrived home she took a long hot shower and went over her memories of the last 24 hours. She certainly never expected to meet Ransom Drysdale and spend the night with him. His reputation was justified, the man had a wicked tongue and impressive stamina for someone with no enhancements. He definitely satisfied but wasn't someone to get caught up with, as his reputation also warned. She wasn't in Boston to find a new man anyhow, she was getting over one. He didn't compare to Bucky but she tried not to think about him, everything was too confusing and messy.

Cookie sighed, she missed him and the friendship they had before Sharon showed up to ruin everything. Even though she knew it wasn't really Sharon's fault, Cookie couldn't help the anger that tried to bubble up. She pushed it back down as she dried her hair and went downstairs to find something to eat.

Cookie didn't feel up for cooking so settled for a bowl of cereal, sat at the dining room table and picked her phone up only to be hit with dozens of notifications. She felt her stomach drop, apparently Ransom was big gossip and the new unknown woman he left the book launch with was Boston's biggest mystery. Some of her coworkers were asking if it was her while Annie just tagged her with a winky emoji. Maria Hill texted a question mark and 'call me'.

Cookie's head fell into her hands, she knew she wasn't in any trouble but hadn't expected her little fling to get so much outside attention. This was a potential complication that she didn't need. At least she knew Ransom was on the same page and didn't expect anything more from her.

She jumped when her phone rang but was relieved to see it was Sam.

"Hey babygirl, sounds like you're having some fun in Boston. Don't forget us little people while you're hanging with the world famous writer and his family."

Cookie laughed "Please, it was one party. I'm still the nerdy intel analyst you know and love."

"Well I hope so. You didn't hear it from me but Robocop is turning green."

Cookie scoffed "Right, he has them to keep him occupied."

"Yeah, they are fighting over him and he's ignoring them. It's almost entertaining, at least until I had to help pull them apart. I got scratched in the face, those ladies are ruthless."

Cookie laughed "Poor, poor, Sammy. Beat up by those mean ol girls. I'm sorry I'm not there to stitch you up."

"Pffft, wasn't all that. Just annoying." Sam whined "I miss you, when are you coming home?"

Cookie sighed "This is my home for now. I miss you too Sammy but the compound was just too much. You should come here, there's lots of history."

They ended the call with Sam promising to visit when he could get away after Cookie told him she would make his favorite cookies.

After they hung up, Cookie started going through her mail. A plain white envelope with the compound as the return address caught her eye. The simple block writing made her heart race as she realized it was Bucky's writing. It was the first time he'd tried to reach out to her since the night they spent together and she was afraid he was finally rejecting her friendship outright instead of just ignoring her. Being ignored had hurt but there had been some hope, however foolish it might have been, especially after learning that he had been drugged, but if he told her he didn't want her in this letter that would really be it.

Cookie's mind came up with all sorts of awful things he could say and what his words could do to her and she felt a panic attack crawling up her spine. She dropped the letter like it was on fire and backed away without opening it. She wasn't ready to read what Bucky had to say yet and left it on the table as she started her laundry and straightened up her townhouse.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella @hiireadstuff @winterschildren8

Every time she walked past the table she could see it out of the corner of her eye. It seemed to grow and catch her attention no matter where she went in the house but she just couldn't bring herself to open it yet.

Chapter 9

[novelizt]

I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ angst + fluff, fake relationship

SYNOPSIS ➺ you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press and give his company publicity.

WC ➺ 10.9k

DISCLAIMER ➺ actress! reader. the fic also sings the "all these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret" beat. lockwood calls reader "darling" and "starlet" because... you'll read why. i'm not sure if The Daily Gazette is a real thing. if it is, i mean no slander — this is merely fiction and I needed a publication name.

NOTE ➺ this is for the oldest/only child who takes on a lot for their family — i see you. also, imagine the nick-priyanka chair pull; i like to think that it's lockwood and darling in a nutshell. my ideas were all over the place so this came out a bit messier than i anticipated, but it is lockwood content so i hope you enjoy! especially you, @t2sh0 !!

They say the brightest stars are the ones that burn out first. That was probably what the gazette was counting on, at least.

Ever since you stepped into the limelight, and shortly earned the title of London's Darling, they made a dime a dozen in making your business their business. They would sing your name to high praise one moment then drag it through the mud the next.

You were content with letting them run their mouths, because it was no skin off your nose, but you drew the line at insulting your family.

Someone at the gazette thought it would be absolutely riveting to write about the dirt poor origins you were raised from. In the article, they not only criticized you, but put your parents under a microscope as well.

"All that really happened is, their daughter put on diamonds and called herself a queen," the Daily Gazette said. "It's only about time until they return to their roots—of which aren't much."

They insinuated that you might not even be your father's daughter—or if you were, it wouldn't be long 'til you came out to be as ill as he was. They called your mother weak for not being as proacticve in generating money, and you a fool for being their lapdog. No one in their right mind would just sit and let a publication sully their name like that.

If they were going to make up hullabaloo, you were going to step ahead and give them something else to talk about, and what better play than having London's Darling Starlet fall in love?

It had came to your attention that the gazette had set their eyes on one agency in particular: Lockwood and Company. Specifically one, Anthony Lockwood.

Where they besmirched your name, they glorified his. The kid was talented at weaving through a conversation, you'd give him that. From what you'd read, you already knew he liked being in the glare of publicity.

You were taking a gamble when you walked right up to their statute of work without a disguise. If the someone at the gazette saw you, you hoped that they would get the ball rolling. All that would be left to do is recruit Mr. Lockwood.

But Lockwood hadn't been the one to greet you at the door. You tried not to appear too shocked, but no one really expects to see someone geared in oversized cleaning gear. Whoever it was looked more alien than human.

"Arif's?" the curly haired boy inquired.

You were tempted to scratch your head, because what in the world was an 'Arifs'?

You were conjuring up a response, but then the boy was shoved aside. The girl who had taken his placed looked both inquisitive and sleep-deprived at the same time. Some kind of recognition happened in her eyes and you smiled, mirroring hers.

The curly haired boy looked positively disturbed by it.

"Hello," you said delicately. "does Mr. Lockwood happen to be in at the moment?"

"He is," the girl said. "You must be the Darling of London. I've seen you in the papers. My friend, Norrie, would be so happy if you could—"

"Luce?"

You weren't usually struck by strangers but you knew right away, that it must be him: Anthony Lockwood. He had the timbre and tone of a well-trained celebrity. It was no wonder the gazette was tripping over themselves to write him.

"Lucy's busy smiling at the Darling of London, or whatever she called her," the curly-haired boy reported, akin to a child who wanted to see their sibling be scolded.

"George," Lockwood turned his attention with a terse intonation. "why don't you pop on the kettle?"

George's smirk fell. He muttered something at Lucy before retreating to the door beside the stairwell. The wide berth he left gave you your first glimpse of the gazette's most recent favorite.

Anthony Lockwood was a spectacle in a suit and tie, looking exactly like his pictures in the papers. He cleaned up nicely enough. You just couldn't help but wince at the disarray his hair was in.

"Lucy, will you please?" Lockwood gave Lucy a look. She cast a glance at you before hesitantly joining George in the kitchen.

You made a mental note to ask about her friend, Norrie, later. It's the least you could do for her saving you from George.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Lockwood turned his attention back to you. He leaned easily against the doorframe, giving off the impression that he was conversational enough, even if you weren't being very good at being polite.

"Welcome to Lockwood and Co., I'm Anthony Lockwood," he said courteously, flashing a smile that would make the press go crazy. You've seen just one like it on cast mates, but he had done it so well you know he'd practiced to get it perfect, or maybe he was naturally good at smiling. You wouldn't know. His voice waded through your reverie. "How can we help you?"

"The kind of help I need isn't a usual request, Mr. Lockwood," you said forwardly. You glanced over his shoulder before offering a chaste smile. "May I come in?"

—

You didn't expect an audience of three after being lead to the receiving room. Then again, you should have. The reasonable assumption was that you were here for ghost-related troubles. You weren't sure how to clarify that you weren't.

You accepted a cup of tea and took in the air in the room before proceeding. Lockwood was sat right across from you, attentively bent toward you. Lucy was trying to keep on a amiable façade in her seat (likely to get a signature for her friend). George was... being himself. He was an odd one, but he had rid himself of his space suit, so that was nice. None of them seemed to be hostile though. That was always a good thing.

"I have a personal favor to ask of you," you started. You rested your hands over your knees, retaining your resolution. "and it involves the recent rumors about me."

"Which one? The one about your prissy attitude or the inevitable downfall of your entire family?" George wasn't as ignorant as he made himself out to be. He took a sip of tea when Lucy glared his way. Lockwood didn't look too surprised by his snide, George must regularly be like this.

You stifled a laugh of your own, amused by his forward nature. "Both, to be honest. The gazette has been generous with their slander lately." You tapped your finger on your knee. "One can only take so much . . . That's what brought me here. I need your help to keep them under control. You'll be properly compensated, of course."

"Miss Darling—" Lockwood started. It wasn't your name but you let it be since he sounded genuine enough. "—we are a psychical agency. What you're asking, it's out of our area of expertise."

"I am aware of that, but I'm not making this request to Lockwood & Co.," you said firmly. You steeled yourself when you set your eyes on him. He flinched under the intensity. "I'm asking you directly, Mr. Lockwood."

George hunched forward, unsuccessfully staunching a laugh. Lucy had straightened in her seat, eyes bugged out of her head. And Lockwood? The surprise on his face couldn't have been fake. He blinked and blinked, but his brain couldn't catch up.

You went on. "My family's been involved. I can't sit idly by while their names are being tarnished. I need something to dissolve those rumors, or at least distract the public enough to forget about them."

He cleared his throat but it was clear he was still ruffled by your earlier admission. "And how would I contribute to that?"

You tried to sound professional, but even your most prim tone sounded odd when it came to a request like this. "I need you to court me."

George stopped trying to muffle his laughter. He even grew bold enough to take a biscuit to snack on. "This is rich. 'Court' and 'Lockwood' in the same sentence? Never thought I'd see the day. You're better off with someone like Quill Kipps, Miss Darling—was it? At least he can act."

Lockwood shot a glare at George but he didn't budge, smiling as he devoured his biscuit. Lucy had recovered and gave her two cents. "George is right. Lockwood doesn't have the best track record in terms of subtlety."

Lockwood looked affronted. "I'm not as bad as you make me out to be."

"You're right," George said gleefully, smiling at you with his eyes. "He's worse."

"You know what," Lockwood said with renewed inspiration. "I'll help you, Miss Darling. Regardless of what my colleagues have to say." He turned his attention to you. You almost cracked a smile at the sheer determination in his complexion. Anthony Lockwood clearly despised being bad at anything. "I'm at your service, starting this very second." He poked the table to enunciate every word. Amused didn't feel like an apt word to describe what you were feeling.

"I was hoping you'd be the opposite of subtle," you said with a polite smile. "You're an enigma to the gazette, Mr. Lockwood. I need you to attract as much attention to us as you can."

He lifted his chin with that award-winning smile. "Consider it done."

George was still grinning to himself, finishing off his biscuit with a dodgy sort of laugh. Lucy had thrown herself back, likely holding in a sigh by the way her shoulders sunk.

Regardless, you felt hope rush through you as you reached across the table, sealing the deal with a handshake that shouldn't have been half as memorable as it was.

—

Lucy's Norrie had set off the domino effect, and you would be forever grateful for it. It didn't take long for the gazette to catch wind and write up their narrative.

!! LOCKWOOD & CO.'S SPECIAL CONNECTION TO LONDON'S DARLING

Recipients, it has come to our attention that London's Darling has shipped out a special signed poster for a friend from Lockwood & Co. The two parties have never had an interaction prior to this instance. We suspect a budding alliance from two very distinct worlds. More about Lockwood & Co.'s most recent escapade on page 7!

It was the first time you finished reading an article without your jaw tensing. It was doing well for your family's temperaments as well. Your mother was now inquiring about the blooming relationship between you and a certain someone instead of agonizing over the manic rumors told about the family. Whenever asked, you feigned ignorance and left the conversation at that.

—

The next time the gazette wrote about London's Darling and Lockwood & Co., it had been about a genuine act of kindness that had been caught on camera.

The trio had finished up a case late in the morning and you dropped by to gift them a hearty breakfast. You didn't intend for the gazette to pick up on the minute interaction, but they always found ways to weasel their way into things. If you didn't despise them so, you would have given them credit for their tenacity.

!! LONDON'S DARLING NOW BECOMING THE DARLING OF LOCKWOOD & CO.

Recipients, an insider recounts the story of seeing our Darling at 35 Portland Row. Coincidentally, the official offices for the psychical agency, Lockwood & Co. She narrates that the starlet had hand-delivered doughnuts and some other necessities; Actively taking time out of her bustling schedule to tend to the operatives she has recently befriended. For the first time since her limelight debut, she has a heart! Our insider also notes a particularly bright smile from the agency's founder and boss, Anthony Lockwood. Is this another one of our Darling's summer flings? See page 4 for news about Darling's controversial role in unveiled coming-of-age film.

You saw a couple reading the recent print as you were walking to Portland Row. They were particularly giggly, so it was safe to assume that the public was falling for your theatrics.

You arrived to Lockwood's abode with a smile.

—

"The gazette's gone feral, haven't they?" George exasperated, throwing the paper on the table after he had cut out Lockwood & Co's bit in the headlines. "You didn't even have to try for this one, did you?"

"Not at all," you chuckled. "They have a way of finding out, even if we don't mean for them to."

"They could have chosen a better picture," Lockwood murmured, eyes permanently narrowed at the cut-out George had hung on their wall. "I did not look that worn out that morning."

"I can't remember it, so I can't lie," Lucy said passively. She slid a pot of tamarind soup through the disarray of cups and papers. It gave you a wider glimpse of the doodles on the cloth. Lockwood had explained the nuance of the doodles earlier. You strongly believed anyone would find the scrawled notes (and insults) endearing.

You leaned over the table as the fragrance of the soup wafted into the air, like tendrils of smoke tempting you for a taste. You held back a smile and tried not to stare at their dinner for too long. You had more self-control than that, but, despite your best efforts, your stomach had a mind of its own.

Your stomach didn't usually rumble but it had chosen that specific moment to do so. You tried to play it off but the members of Lockwood & Co. had already paused in their steps, turning to you with varying levels of surprise. George looked disturbed; Lucy, startled; and Lockwood, amused.

"Hungry?" Lockwood asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not at all," you waved off. He saw right through your stoicism with a growing smile. "It was just a stomach cramp," you insisted.

He didn't move his eyes away from you as he pulled out a chair, but didn't sit in it. "Can't send you home with your belly doing that, can we, George?"

"The gazette might as well write us up for being terrible hosts," George said agreeably.

Lucy set out an additional plate and bowl. "We have a reputation to uphold, you know."

There was an air of something you couldn't quite place. You saw Lockwood's smile first, amused and welcoming all at once. From the corner of your eye, you found George and Lucy doing the same. There was no other word that could describe the moment other than 'warm'. With a feeble smile, you sat in the chair Lockwood had pulled out for you and tried not to look like a mangy raccoon in the midst of a famine.

Only when the sound of clinking cutlery and plates filled the room did you muster the courage to speak again. "Thank you for having me."

"Don't mention it, Starlet," Lockwood said, nudging your side. "You're the reason our clients have been burgeoning lately."

"Who knew a movie star had so much influence?" George asked rhetorically. "If we keep this up, we might be able to afford more biscuits."

"Even if that happens, the biscuit rule stays," Lucy stated, pointing her spoon at George.

There was always something gleefully odd about this place. Sometimes, it was hard to keep up. "What is this biscuit rule?" you asked, looking between all three of them.

"I'll tell you after dinner," Lockwood promised, carefully placing a bowl of soup next to your plate. "Eat. You must be starving."

You withheld the urge to smile but found that, even with your experties in pretending, you had a hard time acting in the company of Lockwood and Co.

—

"How strict is the biscuit rule rotation?" you inquired Lucy.

You had never experienced sleeping over at someone else's house. Doing so, at your mature age, felt a little zany. Not that you could do much about it.

The expert (Anthony John Lockwood) was firm about not letting you walk home at this dark hour. Even more so because the sun had set earlier than expected. Hence, the reason you found yourself rooming with Lucy for the night.

"Strict," was Lucy's answer; half with you, half not. She was at the vanity, writing in a journal. Likely for her friend, Norrie—if their names scribbled on the front was anything to go by. She looked so focused, you would have guessed she was aspiring to out-write the folks at the Daily Gazette.

Defeated, you heaved a sigh and submitted yourself to a few moments of quiet in a place so unfamiliar.

The bed bounced under your weight. The springs you heard in the mattress reminded of you of home, yet, the stars on the ceiling reminded you that you weren't. Most of them clung on but some had fallen off, leaving behind star-shaped irregularities in the paint. You counted four fallen stars before you were reeled back by the feeling of another weight falling beside you.

"Comfortable, Miss Darling?"

Lockwood.

You righted your posture. He sat up with you, taken-aback by your shift in demeanor.

"Yes," you said stiffly, combing down your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay the night."

"I couldn't let you go in good conscience," he said offhandedly. "Don't be tense. I'm only here to offer pajamas."

Your eyes found the neat pile stacked right beside him. The little act of kindness had warranted him a smile, one he returned with equal sheepishness.

"Thank you," you said again.

"It's no trouble." He flourished his hand as he said it. The springs creaked again when he shuffled off the bed. "Sleep well, Miss Darling."

"My name or just 'Darling' is fine, Mr. Lockwood. 'Miss' is much too formal."

"It's Anthony then, darling." He said it with such resounding charm, you almost regret allowing him to continue on that way. "Sleep well," he trailed off.

He stared at you, like he was looking for something in you. You were accustomed to getting weird, prolonged glances in the street, but you felt conscious when it was him. You blamed it on First Sleep-over Jitters. When you finally averted your gaze, he snapped out of his reverie. With a noncommital smile, he jerked a thumb at the door. "I'm right downstairs if you need anything."

"I'll keep that in mind, Anthony." As you said it, you couldn't shake the feeling similar to stepping into a classroom for the first time. There was a flash of surprise on his face before he schooled his expression, back to his notorious smile.

You wouldn't have known, but he couldn't shake the thought that he'd never heard his name sound so nice before.

He held back a smile as he said, "Goodnight then, darling."

You did worse at hiding yours. "Goodnight, Anthony."

You said his name so carefully, he ought to think he was important. Even if the smiles exchanged were bashful, it encapsulated his world.

He retreated to the steps, halting to occasionally look at you before Lucy had gotten sick of his snail pace and told him to bugger off. She had taken her side of the bed when her journal entry for Norrie was finished.

"Is he always that odd?" you asked her, taking the pajamas and heading to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were light, but they weighed much more to you. Who could blame you for admiring a simple shirt and pajama pants? That was your first sleep-over, after all.

Past your ogling, you could still hear Lucy's voice through the door. "Who, Lockwood? Not usually. Suppose he wants to make a good impression."

"Because I'm your highest paying client?" you inquired in a sing-song tone, slipping the shirt over your head. You should have expected the smell of lavender to engulf you.

Lucy snorted, laying back on her pillows. "Because he's a fan, Miss Darling."

"You can call me by my name, Ms. Carlyle," you chuckled, trying to keep your tone even as you examine which way the pajama pants go.

"And you can call me by mine, Miss Darling," she retorted.

When you got your pajama situation under control, you poked your head out of he door. "Touché, Lucy."

She tipped her invisible hat. "I try, Miss Darling."

"Is my name ugly?" You questioned, tone bordering on a sigh. You set yourself down on the vacant side of her bed, planting straight into the pillow on contact. "Just tell me that it is, I won't be offended. Why else would people avoid it like the plague?"

"Miss Darling does sound odd, doesn't it? In my opinion, it's quite regal. You should change your surname to it, honestly. The word just fits you."

You exhaled, catching sight of the stars on the ceiling once more. "And who gave you that absurd idea?"

"Lockwood did," she told you, taking you by surprise. You physically reeled at the fact. "He watched—What was the name of that film again?—Timeless. You played the teenage version of the main character. He wouldn't shut up about the movie for ages, said your character was his favorite. I believe her name was—"

"Darling..." you whispered the same time she said it.

"—and he kept going on and on and on about how you were the epitome of the word. He wouldn't put a stopper on it," Lucy shook her head, recalling his raving vividly. "We couldn't get him to shut up, even while we were off on fieldwork. Eventually, it stuck with us. I couldn't unsee you as 'Miss Darling'. Then the press started calling you 'The Darling of London'. It only proved his case. If there was a word more fitting than 'insufferable', 'Lockwood' would be it."

You believed snorting was the only correct response to that.

"I'm surprised he hasn't fallen over himself trying to impress you," she chuckled. Lucy crossed her arms over her belly, cozying up to her pillow. "Don't tell him I told you though. He might take away my turn in the biscuit rotation. He can be petty like that."

"Sounds childish," you muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Lucy said with a shrug. "He already thinks he's God's gift."

"He's in the good graces of the Daily Gazette. So, he's close enough to it for me," you chuckled.

"Only you would think that." Lucy shook her head. "Go to sleep, Miss Darling. Else you'll have nightmares 'bout him."

"Is that a real warning?"

Lucy shut off the lights. "Yes," she said into the dark.

It was far too late for you. Just seeing the gentle limerence on the ceiling brought your thoughts right back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Lockwood couldn't put his mind to rest either. Him knowing you were just a stairwell away was an involuntary shot of adrenaline.

—

Amusement parks smelt like burned popcorn and sugar. It was unbearably noisy but the neon lights and the shining attractions negated the cons. Lockwood thought he might just kiss you for bringing them here on a Thursday.

There were enough people to make the place feel alive but it wasn't so crowded that they couldn't get on the rides they wanted to try.

He namely appreciated that fact because Lucy and George didn't look too upset about being out of their element. They looked excited, even. Lucy was glancing at a shooting game and George was oddly fascinated by the horror house.

As if driving them here wasn't surprise enough, you dropped a heavy pouch in each of their palms with the simple instruction to knock themselves out.

After agreeing to meet up before dark, the group broke into three. Lucy went off to win herself a rapier, George was off to scare the clowns in the horror house, and Lockwood was trailing behind you.

"You can do your own thing, Anthony," you reassured, lined up for cotton candy. "I can handle myself in daylight."

"Darling, I'm a gentleman. I can't leave a dame alone in such a vast scape," he replied, bold enough to tap your nose. "What kind of make-believe boyfriend would I be if I did?"

He was amused by the way you rolled your eyes. Lockwood was convinced that only you could make something so trivial so enigmatic. Warmth prickled on your cheeks, turning them the same shade of pink as the cotton candy the store owner handed to you. You ordered one for Lockwood before telling him, "Press isn't here—they'd have to pay the tall entrance fee to enter. At ease, soldier."

"Negative. I'm staying by you—as a very concerned friend," he rebutted with resolve, asking for a brief pause to receive the cotton cone spun for him. "Is that so bad?"

"I thought you three deserved to enjoy some time away from work," you confessed.

You didn't know where to head so Lockwood steered you toward a bench, guiding you with one hand on the small of your back. It took all your effort to keep your expression neutral but you continued to chatter, biting down the urge to grin like an idiot.

The only way you knew how to distract yourself was to speak. And speak, you did. "You're either working with ghouls or with me for you know what. I thought you'd be sick of me by now," you joked.

"Of you? Never."

He said it like it wasn't an arrow straight to your heart, and you couldn't shirk the feeling that you should have prepared yourself better. He was Anthony Lockwood, after all.

Like the heathen he is, took a sizeable bite out of his fluff of cotton candy. In your favor, your attention was drawn somewhere else. His upper lip was crusted in princess pink sugar and he was flashing his princely smile, completely unaware of his mustache. You pressed your lips together to keep your laugh in.

He lowered his head, trying to meet your eyes, to no avail. You screwed them shut and curled into yourself to keep your composure.

He cocked a brow. "Cute as you are, I want to know what are you laughing about."

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. You took a glance at him and snorted.

With a pinched expression, he looked at himself in the reflection of a metal stall then he rubbed the sugar away with the sleeve of his coat, scarlet tinging his ears.

"Never speak of this," he told you.

You mimed yourself zipping your lips and he nodded, satisfied.

Your composure broke the moment he crossed his arms and hunched into himself like a kid.

—

You'd been to that same amusement park many times in your life. You rode the same rides back when you were a starlet in the entertainment world. You won the same prizes when you wanted to impress your parents. You ate the same food you did when you were a tyke.

All those memories, and none of them compared to experiencing all of it with Anthony John Lockwood. His incandescence weaved into every new memory, leaving his face seared into the back of your eyelids. Even if you tried to deny it, the pain in your cheeks reminded you that you spend hours on end smiling with him or at him.

Despite your best efforts, his presence made you feel something you never expected to feel for anyone. There was no word for it, and you refused to give it a name.

When the sky theatened to turn orange, you snagged his arm and drove him all the way to your favorite ride. Even if you craned your neck all the way, you could never see the top of the ferris wheel. Perhaps Lockwood could, but you were too timid to ask.

The decorative lights looked weak in daylight but it was magical nonetheless. Nothing could complete your day like hopping into your favorite gondola and seeing the park from all the way up.

When you pulled him back, he had to complain. "That one was empty." Lockwood frowned at the dandy green gondola that circled past.

"No, no. We can't take that one, it has to be this one."

Lockwood had never seen so much excitement shine through your usually collected demeanor. It was like a breath of fresh air. He couldn't bring himself to fight you on it.

When the coral pink gondola swung to a stop and creaked its doors open, you pulled him right into its bowels. The interior was vandalized with countless pens and markers. Even in the chaos, he recognized your penmanship. It was messier than it was now but it was undeniably yours. Only you swooped your 'y's that extravagantly.

Someday soon, I'm going to be the biggest star you'll ever see!

Some of the ink was scratched off but the message stood the test of time. He wondered if you remember even writing it, but one glance at you told him all he needed to know. You paid no mind to the vandalism, eyes enthralled by the rising view outside. He felt his cheeks ache from the beginnings of a smile. He forced it down when you laid your eyes on him.

"Just wait 'til we reach the top. The pathways form a giant star if you look down. There's nothing quite like it."

Endeared, he asked, "How did you find that out?"

If your smile was anything to go by, the memory was very fond to you. "The first time I passed an audition, my parents took me up here and told me to look down. I was terrified of heights back then but they told me some things were worth conquering fears for." You let out a seraphic laugh at the memory. "I saw the giant star . . . and I swore that I'd be a bigger star than it one day; that all their sacrifices would be worth it. They did their best to support me and my pipe dream. I would pay back their labor, ten-fold."

"And you did," Lockwood said in an out-of-breath kind of way. You didn't know what to make of it.

"And I did," you whispered in reply. "I even scribbled my promise somewhere in here. I don't remember where exactly. May have been scratched off."

"Maybe," Lockwood chuckled, leaning his side against the wall; hiding your kiddish penmanship from your view. He had no explanation as to why he did, but he'd rather you to focus on the present. You achieved a lot between then and now. He thought it was much nicer to look forward than to look back.

He didn't realize how long the trip to the top would be. The silence didn't feel tense or forced, it was comfortable. Like an air of understanding had made the air warm instead of still.

Perhaps it was you and how unguarded you had become since stepping into the gondola, but all he knew was that your honest heart inspired him to be brave. He took a leap in a brightly painted gondola, miles up from the ground, just about to touch the clouds.

"My family would have loved seeing this," he said.

Your eyes tore away from the view to look at him. Curiosity whirling in those eyes of yours. "Where is your family? I don't think I've seen them. Are they abroad?"

When you looked at him like that, he forgot all his fears. "They aren't around anymore."

Your expression heartened. You turned all your attention to him. "I'm so sorry, Anthony. I shouldn't have—"

"No," he interrupted you, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I want you to know."

Your lips quivered, forming something that was a half-smile, half-frown. "I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know." His eyes fell to his knees, picking at the frays of his coat sleeves to distract himself. "My parents were researchers. They wanted to know what rituals other cultures had to communicate with spirits and keep themselves safe. They were working when they passed away. My sister, Jessica, she was ghost-touched." Everything came out when he was looking directly at you. Knowing you were paying attention was solace enough. "You should have seen the ghost when I was done with him, ha. As for my family . . . Even if they're not around anymore, they continue to remind me of the most valuable lessons. I do my best to never forget."

"Must be why you're so protective of Lucy and George," you said lightly, offering him a sunrise of a smile that brought back the color into the world.

"I am," he said with renewed confidence. "I'd do anything for them."

"Like make deals with prissy, troubled actresses?" you jested, bumping your knee against his.

His lips twitched, threatening a smile. "Yeah." He bumped his knee to yours but didn't move away, content with being close to you in any way you'd have him. "Exactly."

A smile crept up your face. "You have a wonderful family now, Anthony."

"I would say the same but I realize I haven't met them yet."

You threw your head back, laughing. The sound was so precious, he wished he had half the hearing of Lucy to remember it well. "Someday, Anthony. Someday..."

"I'll hold you to it."

The light that filtered in turned yellow, touching your face with gold. The sun was dipping between the far hills and, finally, your gondola had reached the pinnacle of the wheel.

You gently cupped his chin to turn his attention to the view. Your touch made his breath hitch, but the view had successfully stolen the air from his lungs. Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't have predicted just how breath-taking the view was.

True to your word, the amusement park was laid out in a way that made the pathways draw a star—the stall lights that began to appear accentuated the shape. The stripped roofs of the attractions were like swirling patterns that encircled the the display. For lack of a better word, it was stupendous.

Your voice matched the sereneness of the moment. "My grandparents said that seeing fireworks from the top of a ferris wheel was an experience like no other, but with the Problem and the curfew, we might never be able to see something like it..."

"Wouldn't hurt to dream though, would it?"

You chuckled. "No, it wouldn't..."

Vaguely, in the reflection of the window, he saw your smile. A true, unfiltered smile. It's the brightest you'd ever appeared to him, and it was worlds better than the view you were gawking over.

The magic fizzled when the gondola began to decend, bringing you closer to earth and away from the utopia in the middle of a ferris wheel.

He couldn't recognize you once your mask came back on. Lockwood didn't realize why until he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye.

The gazette had spilled coffee all over a perfectly good day.

—

!! LOCKWOOD'S DARLING

Recipients, we can confirm that there is a blooming romance between London's favorite Starlet and Lockwood & Co.'s charismatic leader. In the middle of a busy week for both individuals, they set aside time for a romantic ferris wheel ride in Starcrest Amusement Park—an ideal recreational venue for families and couples. See also: additional reports from our inside sources on page 7.

!! A DARLING'S DARLING

Recipients, we have more news on London's most fetching young couple. Both Darling and Lockwood have been growing bolder in putting their relationship in the spotlight. Recent reports state that Darling had invited Lockwood and Company to her film set — a feat of trust we haven't seen from her until she'd been swept of her feet by her latest and only suitor, Anthony Lockwood. He even presented her a bouquet of her favored flowers upon visiting. Backstage photographs from our insider on page 3!

!! A NOT VERY INVISIBLE STRING

Recipients, London's most captivating young couple was spotted wearing matching red-string bracelets, shifting to the 'private but not secret' path in their relationship. However, we always fetch you the ripest updates on their heart-stopping romance. More on page 4!

—

You were more than pleased by the sound of swishing newspaper and the snip of scissors. George had extracted another pretty picture of the recent news and hung it on the wall of achievements.

"Featured on a handful of headlines and it hasn't even been a year," Lockwood said, sounding very pleased with himself. He barely lifted a finger and Lockwood and Co. already had five additional clippings to their wall. "Gazette patrons are calling in to have us take care of visitors with all this media exposure." He set his hands on the stair newel and set his chin on them, looking up at you. It may have been a trick of a light but he was more radiant from where you were standing. "I have you to thank for that."

"You're the one helping me," you smiled. "I haven't heard a bad word about myself or my family. The peace is . . . unsettling. They really are bent on painting you as a saint, Anthony."

"Am I not?" he smiled.

You returned it, just as joyous. "That's the charisma I need for my birthday ball."

That made him straighten and grow brighter, if that were possible. "Birthday ball?"

You nodded, returning your eyes to Lockwood & Co.'s wall of accomplishments. "Lucy and George, too. It's a black tie event, and, yes, you may bring your rapiers."

He tilted his head, jarred. "What kind of people will be in attendance if we're allowed rapiers?"

"The most terrifying kind," you said with exaggerated dread, starting for the door. "Extended family I don't know well and journalists."

He sped ahead, clicking the door open for you. "Petrifying."

"Very," you chuckled. "Can I expect you to be there?"

He leaned toward you and you deluded yourself to believe he was doing so for his own benefit, but you knew damn well that there was a camera in the corner of your eye. Lockwood had caught sight of it before you, crowding you against the doorframe to paint the stomach-fluttering picture of a boy who simply couldn't resist being near his girl.

The idea was far more appealing than it was supposed to be.

His voice sounded saccharine up close. "What kind of flowers does your mother like?"

You titlted your head. "What for?"

"It's common courtesy to gift the in-laws. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared." He grinned at you, and you couldn't help but return it.

"She likes roses, and my dad is a fan of Ferrero Rochers."

"Noted," he chirped. He tugged a strand of your hair lightly before pulling away, taking his warmth with him.

You mustered a convincing enough smile. "Goodbye, Anthony."

"Goodbye, darling starlet."

He should have known you were going to do something. You grew up under the limelight, after all.

You've kissed many boys but he hoped you don't kiss them like you kissed him. Truthfully, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but he'd recall the feeling of your lips at the most untimely moments. He was ghost-touched because he couldn't shirk it.

—

You gave them a plot of the house. So, they did expect your house to be massive. What you did not tell them was the fact that your birthday ball was a masquerade ball. Lockwood was quite struck as he watched people file in with half their faces concealed under frivolously decorated masks. Lucy and George were just as confused.

"You're sure you didn't hear her say anything about this?" Lucy asked, hugging her arms as the evening chill began to creep in.

"Positively. Would I lie about something like this?" Lockwood replied, readjusting his grip on the generous bouquet of roses.

"Lie or not, we have to head in eventually. Unless your girl has a butler or handmaid who'd fetch us," George nipped. It was bad enough that Lockwood had forced him into a suit, but he had to stand in the freezing cold while passerbys walked right into the grandeur of your family's estate. The chandeliers casted gold silhouettes across the shadows. George bet it was warm in there. "Perhaps a visitor will come put us out of our misery."

"Keep your shirt on, George," Lockwood said firmly. "Perhaps having us enter without decoration was her intention."

"Who goes to a masquerade ball without a mask?" George scoffed.

"Lockwood & Co., apparently." Lucy rolled her eyes. She cast a nervous glance behind her but found lanterns had been lit. They smelt of lavender, reassuring her that despite your family's reputation, you weren't ignorant to the Problem. "Shall we head inside or face the treacherous cold?"

Lockwood, thoroughly done with their snideness, promptly decided on the former. He rolled his shoulders back and righted his posture before joining the line to the threshold.

"I see a buffet," Lucy said with new-found energy. Suddenly, the cold wasn't so unforgiving.

"Is that a chocolate fountain?" George inquired. Even if he did his best to keep his tone even, they caught the subtle intonation on the word 'chocolate'.

"Compose yourselves," Lockwood reminded primly. "we are representatives of the agency as well as guests, so, do try to mingle before losing yourselves in the smorgasbord."

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

Lockwood didn't know who said what, but he knew their answers were merely supplementary. They would bolt for the buffet as soon as the made it past the front door. At least their concerns about the lack of disguise were put to rest.

As they neared the doors, the warmth from the inside began to thaw away their frigidness. By the time they stepped into your abode, they were swallowed by the luxury. The word 'cold' didn't exist in a place as decadent as this.

The velvet curtains were pulled back fully, showcasing ceiling-length windows that glimmered with reflections of your guests, . A large chandelier illuminated the ballroom, washing everyone in supple, golden light. It brought out everyone's best features. Even the floor was polished so perfectly, it could have been a mirror.

If he didn't know better, Lockwood would have thought he walked right into a fairytale. He didn't realize Lucy and George had made their escape until he looked behind himself to find them gone.

He didn't have to idle by for very long. Like how sun rays pierce through storm clouds, you parted the crowd. You shone under the chandelier-light, a star put on earth, and you smiled so brightly he had to think you only smile like that for him. Lockwood lost his words, but his mouth was moving.

You were chuckling when you neared. Only when you dodged the roses and leaned on your toes to kiss his cheek did he realize that you didn't supply yourself with a mask either. His earlier guess had been right.

Whatever mirage he was in the middle of was cut through by two more figures coming into view; your parents, most likely. You resembled them a lot.

His joints went rigid but he was experienced enough to project an easygoing energy. All while he repressed bubbling exclamations.

He played on his best smile and reached for your father's outstretched hand. They met in the middle for a firm handshake.

"You must be the lad our little darling speaks so highly of," Mr. Darling chuckled. He had the kind of smile that put everyone in the room at ease. It reached his eyes. He must be the one you inherited your eye-smile from. A nail of guilt hit him right on the head because it was obvious that the man didn't know his daughter's romance was a fad. "Anthony, is it?"

"You're correct," Lockwood said amiably. His smile widened as he watched your mother's eyes gravitate to the bouquet of roses. "Anthony Lockwood, at your service, sir. And ma'am . . . These are for you." He offered the arrangement to your mother, who accepted them with the grace of a royal. You must have inherited that from her. He would have found it adoring if another strike of guilt didn't come down on him.

"How courteous," your mother said, hiding a smile behind her newly acquired bouquet. Her eyes moved to you and you shared a look Lockwood didn't quite understand. His stomach churned. Your mother then shot a peculiar look at him — like she could see right through him. It made his blood run cold.

Lockwood didn't have the option to ponder on it. Your father had seized Lockwood's attention with a firm pat on the shoulder. Lockwood had to tense his back to keep himself from toppling over.

As grayed as your father was, he had the kind of voice that commanded authority. "Don't be coy, boy. You can call us Ma and Pa. If our little starlet likes you enough to introduce you to us, you must be something special."

Lockwood glanced at you, momentarily paused by your smile. "She's the special one between us, sir—"

"Pa," your father corrected.

"Pa," Lockwood rectified smilingly. He wasn't sure what about it made him feel so melancholic and comforted at the same time. "I should be groveling at her feet. I'm very lucky to have caught her attention."

"I like the way you talk. It's no wonder she's so taken by you, Anthony."

Your father surprised Lockwood with a boisterous laugh. He was sure the room tremored for a moment. Lockwood was happy enough to laugh with him, the same time his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

The exchange was interrupted by your mother's squeal of delight. She had found the Ferrero Rochers laying in the bed of roses. She, with bright eyes, brandished them to her husband and Mr. Darling looked positively thrilled by the surprise.

"And thoughtful, too." Your father gave Lockwood the kind of nod you'd only get after you ask for their daughter's hand in marriage. "He's a keeper, little darling."

Lockwood's smile shook. Your mother looked at him strangely once more. He tried to regained himself.

Guilt.

Guilt.

GUILT.

It was drowning him, yet, he kept his cool. (At least, tried to.) You didn't seem to notice the change in his attitude.

You, with your rosy cheeks and resplendent smile, hooked your arm with Lockwood's and said, "I know, pa. That's the plan."

—

"That was not the plan," Lockwood respired, loosening his tie as soon as he stepped into open air. Even when he breathed in lavender, his lungs felt as if they were stuffed with cotton.

You had lead him to a balcony to give him a moment of reprieve only to be met with a glare. So much for being bad at acting, you were convinced his earlier niceties were real.

You regarded him with crossed arms, your cool façade practically a wall between you. "I invited, and you came. That's all that happened here."

"You made a spectacle of me," he rasped, his breath coming out as frost. "I would have been alright with that, but you brought your parents into this. They don't even know you're doing this, do they?"

The way he motioned between you as he said 'this' made you feel like someone's dirty secret. The way you faltered was laughable. Your heart clenched and your nails dug into your palms. You replied the only way you knew how: stronger.

"I don't see what the big issue is, Anthony," you scoffed. "I pay you, you do as I say. What if my parents don't know it's a ploy? The point is to set the stage for the press. I told you that."

"God," he laughed without feeling, raking a hand through his hair. He was heaving like he had just ran a marathon, face turning red. "You don't get it do you? We don't play with people. I don't want to play with people. And that's your family, starlet! Does it not bother you that you are lying to their faces?"

"No, it doesn't," you replied, stoically, standing your ground. "and neither should you. You know I'm doing this for them."

"Are you?" Where you stepped back, he stepped forward. He scoffed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's ironic that a whole ballroom of people hiding behind masks are more honest with themselves than you are to yourself."

"What are you implying?" Your words come out through gritted teeth.

He stood tall, more intimidating than you'd ever seen him. The gauntness in his eyes were more pronounced then. His stature made your composure slip. His words made your knees buckle. "You're an actress. You're a professional at what you do. Even in your own home, you have a façade. Maybe you are, in some twisted way, doing this for the sake of your family, but I can't see that anymore. You're stringing them along . . . As far as I can see, you're just as bad as the gazette makes you out to be. I don't even know if you've been lying to me for the sake of keeping your mask on."

You feel the full force of his words drop down on you. Taking a few steps isn't enough to quiet the rush of throughts crowding your mind. All you see is his despondent face and a hundred and one headlines flash before your eyes.

He takes your hand—making you wish the circumstances were different—before he dropped his red-string bracelet into your palm. It felt heavier than it was supposed to. You couldn't pry your eyes away.

When he turned and left, your thoughts turned into white noise. He had taken every joy with him, deserting you in the muted chatter of what was supposed to be a celebration.

—

!! TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Recipients, it is to our sorrow that the couple that took the country by storm, Darling and Lockwood, seems to have called it quits. Lockwood no longer flaunts the bracelet that had started a trend for couples on this side of the globe. It is unknown whether he had lost it during a skirmish or willingly stopped wearing his. With Darling's trail of broken hearts, it's safe to assume the worst. The Starlet seems to be continuing activities, as usual. The ice princess, unmoved by a romance put to the grave. On a lighter note, read more about Lockwood & Co.'s achievements on page 7.

—

The gazette went for the jugular with that one. For once, they wrote something that had some truth to it. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Even your newly developed habit of morning walking barely helped your heartbreak. You've never mourned for something that never was, but, damn, did it hurt. You knew you were in too deep when your feet carried you right to 35 Portland Row.

You stared at the agency plaque for an unnecessary amount of time before you folded yourself over and hugged your knees. At the time, George and Lucy would be out running errands before a case and Lockwood would be arranging their bags inside. Perhaps the security of knowing their schedule made you so confident to sit and wallow the death of what could have been.

Yet, you couldn't mourn that in peace. The silence was interrupted by a shutter. You lifted your head and spotted a paparazzo who didn't even try to hide his presence. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and already fading. He had a smile on but it set off alarms in your head. You didn't have to ask. You had a feeling. The gazette was all too good at dampening a sunny day.

You stood up quickly but found yourself backed against the wrought-iron gate.

"The Darling Starlet of London... Quite the title. Never thought I'd get to see you in person." His smile widened. You didn't budge. Even with your fiercest glare, he didn't get the message. He looked down at his camera before his smile fell. "Do you know how upset we were when you started going out with that... that pathetic excuse of a human—"

"He's an agent," you cut off. "and he's the reason degenerates like you get to walk the streets without being ghost-touched at every turn."

"Degenerates?" He laughed, covering his mouth. "Oh, Darling Starlet—" The name you found home in was chemical coming from him. "you should know that we made you. He's lucky the chief likes him enough. You'd be nothing without us."

"Without the gazette?" You scoffed, tempted to roll your eyes at the fool. "You do more harm than good."

"But we make or break a career." His hand came away from his mouth, revealing a smile made of pointed teeth. "and what would happen to your folks if your reputation makes a sharp decline, hm? Your father needing all that medicine, your mother taking care of him... What would happen if our little darling turned out to be a little bitch?"

Your anger was boiling over, but the fear of that possibility had crippled you. Words died in your throat. Your will fizzled to nothing. You felt blood drip into your palm, nails clenched into your flesh.

You were still trying to regain yourself when the cold of the gate was pardoned from your back. A familiar warmth replaced it, an arm coming around your middle and a voice that quelled all your fears sounded in your ears. A rapier crossed the distance, severing the neckstrap around the photographer and sending his camera into the pavement. It's lens shattered and the photographer let out a yell.

"If you ever talk to my girlfriend like that again, a broken camera will be the least of your problems."

"Anthony J. Lockwood," the paparazzo snorted. "Your agency hinges on the exposure you get from us. Don't play hero when you know you're defending a sham."

"I'm defending my girlfriend," Lockwood's grip tightened on your hip, and his rapier shined in the light. Your heart did immeasurable things in lieu of Lockwood's doing. "and if you ever threaten my family like this again, I will come after you. The gazette isn't the only publication in London, and I've built a rapport with enough people in the industry to secure my place. I'm not afraid of you."

"You—"

Lockwood turned you around, covering you from view and urging you toward the door. "Head inside, darling. I'll take care of this."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for resentment or even hate, but found none. His eyes were sunlight through bottles of whiskey. The smile had disarmed you, finally getting through to you.

You took a few hesitant steps before he nodded, assuring you that it was alright. He made sure you were safety inside before he returned his attention to the photographer.

"I do have morals. So, I'll be civil." Lockwood poised his blade. " That said, get off my street before I show you how proficient I am at my job."

—

Some part of you was desperately hoping that things would smooth themselves out after what had transpired. When he offered you his coat before telling you that he'd be walking you home, you knew you were in over your head.

That same night, you flipped the events over in your head. Clenching and unclenching your newly bandaged hand to remind yourself that it was real.

You didn't get much sleep with his voice echoing in your ears and his eyes burned into the back of your eyelids.

—

Your mother must have known something was wrong with you. You mistaked salt for sugar in your morning coffee, you walked into a wall on more than one occasion (a large vase had fallen victim to your daze), and you refused ice cream for the first time in your life.

In the middle of the day, Mama Darling decided that she'd seen enough. She set her knitting things down and urged you to put your book down. You obliged because you couldn't absorb the words anyway.

"My darling girl," your mother started. Her tone is so heartfelt, you felt yourself lax in your seat. A smile came to your face as she caressed your cheek, just as she'd always done. "You've always been such a kind child. So selfless . . . Your only flaw is that you need to know when to let go of your fear and let us handle ourselves, dearest."

You stared at her, lost. She simply smiled, taking your hands in hers. "I know your recent escapades with Anthony were a play, my dear girl." Your spine calcified, heat prickled your eyes. "I always knew. I'm honest when I say he's good for you. He brings out your ugly smile— Don't frown, I mean it in a romantic sense. I know the look of love when I see it, dearest. Don't sacrifice it for pride or fear, my girl. Go get him back."

"Ma," you shuttered, pausing to collect yourself. You were choking on yourself and that wasn't the worst of it. Your vision had blurred from your tears. "you and Pa need me to focus on my career. I have to—"

"No, you don't." She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and swiped her thumb across your cheek. "You'll always be a princess in the eyes of the public, dearest. Any person with two eyes and common sense will see that. You just have to break out of your shell, actually talk to the journalists. Just not the ones from the Daily Gazette—they are something else entirely."

"They are, aren't they?" You manage to laugh through your tears. Only your mother could make you feel these many things at once. She saw right through you. "Right now, Anthony doesn't even want to talk to me. I'm so scared that if I try, he'll tell me everything I don't want to hear. I'm scared he'll see all the nasty things the gazette talked about and hate me for them."

"Darling," your mother said sternly. "we just went over the fact that the gazette is complete and utter bullshit."

You can't help but snort. The rare curse from her had broken through to you. "Sorry, Ma."

"Don't be sorry, my dear girl, be brave." She flipped your hand over and drew lines across your palm. She did it three times before you realized what she was doing; she was drawing stars. "Some things are worth conquering fears for."

The Starcrest ferris wheel. Stolen smiles. Dreams of fireworks.

Your mother smiled at the renewed light in your eyes. She didn't question you as you bolted to the exit.

"Home before dinner! You may bring Anthony!" she called just before you smiled and closed the door behind you.

—

"Lucy?"

"No, this is George."

The world must hate you. You couldn't do much about that. You coiled the telephone wire around your finger as you took a deep breath. "This is... darling."

"I don't know anyone with a ridiculous name like that. Sorry."

You bit your cheek, inhaling the urge to sigh. "The prissy actress."

"Oh. You." He shuffled, crossing his arms. "Speak, before I hang up."

"I have a favor to ask of you," you winced, already expecting the worst.

"What's in it for me?"

You took a breath. "What do you want? Biscuits? An allowance? Access to the VIP collection in the library—"

"All of that, and you have yourself a deal."

"Done."

—

"George— You're usually against room invasion," Lockwood quipped, allowing himself to be dragged up the steps. "and Lucy wouldn't be happy about this."

"When I tell her what I bargained, she'll be fine with it."

"Bargained?"

"Not that important right now, Lockwood. Sit. And for all things grotesque, don't move."

George had pushed Lockwood into the mustard seat beside the attic window. The latter was ready to protest, confusion evident.

A resounding pop had interrupted him. The lights in the room shifted. The shadows stretched and receeded. It took a moment for Lockwood to realize that there were fireworks going off outside.

On the third floor, he had a bird's eye view of the shower of sparks in varying shades of blues, reds, and yellows. He was wondering where the firework show had come from, but his questions were put to rest with a singular look onto the street.

Other than the tins of fireworks, he saw you—looking much like a panicked frog while lighting the fireworks. You looked absolutely ridiculous. His perceptions of you had been thrown to the wind, and he couldn't help but smile.

The last firework burst into pink sparks, lighting up his eyes and your silhouette; embedding itself into his memories. When the air had cleared, he cracked the window open.

"What are you doing down there? Have you gone mad?"

You cupped your hands around your mouth, shouting an answer at him. "Lighting fireworks! You like dem?"

He shook his head, endeared. "How do you even know how to light them?"

"I don't! It was about time I learned!"

"You really are a lunatic..." he chuckled.

You cocked your head. "What did you say?"

"Come in!"

You showed him your thumbs, scuttling to the front door.

Lockwood had never raced down the stairs so quickly before. He apologized quickly to George, who he had almost bumped to ground floor, and Lucy, who had just gotten home with groceries. He raced for the door; hair a mess, breathing short, but smiling widely. He greeted you with the same smile he had on when you first met.

Cute as he was, you couldn't take it anymore. You reached up, fingers brushing his forehead and fixing the strands that had been bothering you for ages.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing you said. You were still heaving from outrunning fireworks but he wasn't in much better shape. "I was scared, and my first instinct was to act like I don't care, but I do. I care so much. About you."

"I got the message," he laughed, looking over your shoulder to the smoke remnants of the showcase.

"No, I'm not done." You took a breath, bracing yourself for it. "I want you to know about me, too. Pa has been sick for a long time. He worked through it so they could afford my commute to and from auditions. The money Ma made was used for medicine or keeping me in school. We struggled for a long time. Some days, I couldn't sleep because I felt so helpless. I wanted to give back to them with every fiber of my being. When I finally could, I never wanted to go back to having nothing. I was willing to do anything to stay where I was—"

"Darling, I get it—"

"—and I lost sight of who I was doing it for. I was so comfortable in allowing anything just to keep a pristine reputation—"

"Darling—"

"—and I hurt you. I never meant to, I'm so sorry. I realize now that I was wrong and I should have been more honest with you because I don't just want to be colleagues anymore—"

"Oh, shut up already."

He bunched your shirt in his fist, pulling you to him with the anticipation born from a thousand dreams. When his lips touched yours, it felt like all of this was worth the wait.

You were sweet and a little smokey, he could have laughed but settled with smiling into the kiss. You stole a breath from him when you nipped at his bottom lip. He could have spent the night like that but the resounding boom from outside made the two of you jump, breaking away from The Best Kiss Ever™ to see the last of the fireworks finish off the moment with golden sparks.

Lockwood couldn't stay upset. After a short laugh, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him right back to you—giving him another kiss to think about for the rest of his life.

—

!! THE COUPLE OF THE CENTRURY, BACK AGAIN !!

Recipients, after a short-lived break, the couple of the century are back—stronger than ever! Various photographs have been taken of them: Dancing in the foyer of the Darling estate, partaking in Mrs. Darling's notorious tea parties, and running away from premiers to steal time for themselves. To see more of them, see page 4!

That was possibly the last good article written about anyone coming from the gazette. Not long after that, they began to be brazen in their attempts to tarnish your reputations. They published photos of the two of you flipping off the photographer, spitting your tongues out at unwanted paparazzi, and spreading the most degrading rumors you had ever heard.

At the same time, the gazette had been losing viewership to London Squire, who was only gaining traction with every article written about the It Couple of Europe. Soon enough, the gazette had lost all credibility; reduced to a mere scandal sheet. It was a breath of fresh air.

The public was enamored by your honest nature and respected the fact that you'd prefer to keep your relationship private. Though, you would be the talk of the town once the Squire got a hold of an exclusive interview.

The topic? Vows, silver rings, and rapiers to cut wedding cake.

DARLING-LOCKWOOD

— It's now official. Our Darling Starlet is off the market after exchanging vows with Lockwood & Co.'s founder and president, Anthony Lockwood. The union took place this weekend in a private ceremony with close family. The couple reveals that the ceremony was grand but they would like nothing more than to keep it to themselves. We are honored that both Mr. & Mrs. Lockwood has given us the opportunity to publish a few pictures taken during their most special day. The writers here at London Squire send all our warmest regards to the newly weds.

The picture wasn't much; Just a scene recreated from the movie that earned you the title of 'Darling'. Even when you shared his name, he persisted in calling you his darling starlet. Though, he takes the utmost pride when he does call you his missus.

NOTE ➺ i don't know if i can get all my 1989 tv songfics done in time but i plan to get them all published before the end of 2023 !

i hope this finds you when you need it. as always, don't be afraid to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. i love to read feedback so don't hold back!!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[chaossturns]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝚰𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝚰𝐎𝐋𝐎

synopsis: where Chris breaks up with you because he couldn't be committed to the relationship but realized he was wrong and that he needs you

"Dare you to forget that you used treat me just like anyone" -tyla

ex!chris x poc!reader

warnings: smut , angst (?) , fingering , edging (?) , use of pet names (ma, mama, mamas) , p in v , unprotected sex (wrap up please) , oral (fem!receiving) , boob play, swearing, and no use of y/n

a/n: bare with me please 😭 , i haven't written shit like this in forever so it may be a bit rough. let me warm up

word count: 1.4k

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧───────────‧─────₊˚⊹

It’s been a couple of weeks since Chris decided to cut things off with you. He had decided he wasn’t that committed to your relationship and that it meant nothing to him. 

Days prior to him breaking up with you, he had been treating you worse than he ever has before. Treating you as if you were somebody he barely knew, and not engaging into any conversations with you. 

The first couple of days were the worst. Matt and Nick were constantly checking up on you constantly, apologizing for Chris’ behavior. You told them that you were fine and what happened between you in Chris didn’t matter anyways. 

You were sitting on your couch in your apartment, a blanket over your legs covering your shorts whilst the top half covered by a dark green hoodie. Browsing through netflix to find something to watch while you ate. As you finally got settled on something to watch, someone knocked on your door with eagerness. 

You got up and began to walk towards the door, checking the peep hole before reaching for the locks and the knob. You look out and see Chris standing outside scratching the back of his neck, waiting for you to open the door. 

“C'mon ma open the door. I need to talk to you.” Chris says, desperateness laced with the tone of his voice.

You blow a breath, hesitant on opening the door for Chris. You finally cave, twisting the lock on the door and pulling the door open to have a gust of the warm wind to hit you. 

“What do you want Chris?” You ask, attitude present in your question. 

“First off lose the fucking attitude, and second I came to apologize for the way I acted towards you.” Chris says, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. 

“Well I don’t accept your apology. Chris you treated me like fucking shit because you couldn’t commit to what we had going on.” You say, an angry expression dancing on your face as you watched Chris’ head drop down. 

“I know, and I am so fucking sorry. I miss you, I miss us.” He reveals. You look him dead in the eyes and roll your eyes at him, stepping to the side, allowing him to enter your apartment. 

He walks in, looking around at the familiar scene, smelling the sweet vanilla scent he's missed ever since you left. He walks to your couch and sits down, causing you to do the same but you sit at the other end of it. 

You guys both sit in silence for a good chunk of time before you decide to speak up and break the ice. 

“If you don’t have anything else to say you can leave Chris. You’re so fucking wrong for what you did.” You say, looking at your acrylics waiting for Chris to answer.

“I know mamas.” He says, causing you to clench your thighs together due to the pet name he says to you. He takes notice of this and a sly smirk glides on his face. 

“Let me make it up to you please, I promise you won’t regret it.” Chris says, looking at while licking his lips at the same time. 

You hated the fact he made you into this mess, making you want him to bend you over and fuck you into oblivion. 

You decided to give into Chris, getting up from your spot and sitting yourself down in Chris’ lap. You can feel his hardness aching in his sweats, begging for some sort of touch. 

“I fucking hate you.” You say to him, your lips inches away from his. Chris smirks and whispers an “I know” before connecting your lips together. Your lips mold together as if your lips were made for his.

He grabs your ass, causing you to gasp and his tongue evading into your mouth. His hands now move onto your hips, clashing your clothed pussy against his covered dick. You moan out and Chris groans due to the immense sensation you're both feeling from the friction. 

Chris breaks the kiss, taking off your hoodie and displaying your breasts into his face. He begins to kiss and bite your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back with your mouth gaped open. 

“Feel good mama?” Chris asks. You can give him a slight nod since you can’t give him a verbal answer. With his mouth still attached to your right nipple, he trails his fingers down into your shorts and begins to toy with your clothed clit. 

“Fuck Chris.” You moan out, leading him to detaching his mouth from your nipple and taking your shorts off in one go. He plunges his fingers into your dripping cunt, pushing them in and out at a rapid pace. 

“Shit ma, you're so tight.” You moan out at what Chris had said, your climax approaching you at a rapid speed. Heavy and labored breaths leave your mouth as you drop your head on Chris’ shoulder. 

“Fuck, im cumming Chris!” You say aloud, but this causes Chris to retract his fingers from pussy and place them directly into his mouth. 

“What the fuck Chris.” You say pissed, causing Chris to laugh slightly and tell you, “You should’ve not had an attitude earlier.”  You roll your eyes as Chris wraps his arms around your waist and carries you into your room. 

He drops you down on the bed, your breasts jumping up and down. You watch Chris as he undresses himself, starting with his hoodie first then his sweats. His hard dick visible from his boxers. 

Chris leans down and begins kissing on your neck, leaving dark marks along it. Your mouth agape, small moans and whimpers leaving your mouth. 

Chris now glides his lips down your stomach, planting a kiss onto your cunt. 

“Chris, I need you.” You whine out, causing Chris to drag a long lick against your pussy. He groans against you, making you moan aloud and tangle your fingers in his hair. You move your hips across his face needing more. 

His index and middle finger protruding into your soaked cunt, loud squelching sounds heard as Chris curls his fingers inside you. 

“Mmm, fuck Chris!” you say, a loud moan erupting from your throat. You grip Chris’ hair harder, earning a guttural moan from him. This action eggs on your orgasm, needing to release. 

“Chris can I cum please?” you beg, desperately needing to cum since Chris didn’t let you the first time. He taps your thigh twice, indicating that you’re able to cum. 

“Mmph, shit!” you moan out, Chris continuing his torture on your pussy whilst slurping up all of your juices. Loud breaths and whines coming from your mouth as you come down from your high. 

“Turn around and arch your shit.” Chris says demandingly. You comply and turn around, hearing Chris’ boxers fall to the ground. He teases you by gliding his dick against your folds. 

“Chris just put it in already.” you sigh out, becoming impatient with all of his teasing. After hearing what you said, Chris immediately slams into you without a warning. You moan, having a loss of words after his intrusion. 

“Ain’t got shit to say now ma?” Chris teases, as he continues his rough strokes. He groans out, gripping your hips harder as you coat his dick with your juices. 

“Look at you, all dumb on my dick.” He says, as you start to clench against his dick. You moan loudly as Chris starts to abuse your g-spot repeatedly. 

“Mmm, close Chris.” You say, making Chris wrap his hand around your throat from behind and begin digging deeper into your cunt. 

“Oh shit Chris, I'm cumming!” You scream out, feeling Chris’ strokes become sloppier. You feel him release inside of you, painting your walls. 

“Shit mama.” He says, slowly pulling out of you. You wince due to the sensitivity and falling forward onto the bed. You come back to your senses and realize what you just did. 

“Chris, you need to leave.” You tell him, making him stand there dumbfounded by what you just said. 

“Ma you can’t be serious.” Chris says, slightly laughing. 

“I'm dead serious Christopher.” You say, as a deadpan expression stayed on your face.

You go to open the door as Chris slowly gets up to put his sweats on and hoodie. 

“I’ll text you later ma.” He said with a smirk as he reached the door. 

“And I won’t answer.” You snap back at him, closing the door in his face. You press your back against the closed door and slide your hand down your face. 

[ericshoney]

Black Eye ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Nick, Matt and Chris are home in Boston so they decide to drive you to and from school, but as they pick you up, they notice you hiding your face.

Warnings: possible swearing, nicknames,a fight, black eye, mentions of bullying, random name for the bully, slight angst, fluff ending

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Your brothers were home in Boston for a while and offered to drive you to and from school. You agreed as it saved you from walking. Today was no different for the morning.

"You ready kid?" Chris called, as you ran down the stairs and grabbed your bag.

"Let's go!" You cheered.

You got in the car, where Nick and Matt were already waiting. The guys talked about their plans for the day as you played on your phone for the car ride. Nick, who was next to you, glanced at your phone.

"Hope your not texting any boys." He said.

"Or girls." Matt added.

"Only friends. I'm twelve, not even thinking about dating." You responded.

"Good. Too young for a boyfriend or girlfriend!" Chris exclaimed, making you giggle.

You soon arrived at school and said bye to your brothers. Matt rolled down his window.

"We'll pick you up later and go get some food, sound good?" He suggested.

"Yeah! See you later!" You replied, waving as they drove off.

You walked into school, joined a couple of your friends and looked forward to going out with your brothers later. You thought it would be a good day.

That was until lunch.

You were just sitting on a bench with your friends, chatting and showing each other random TikTok's, when she came over.

Willow Jones.

She was an absolute bitch in your opinion. She walked around thinking highly of herself and her little followers.

"Hi you little troublemakers, burned down the science lab yet?" She teased.

"No, we're waiting till your in there." One of your friends replied, making you laugh.

"What are you laughing at, brat?" Willow responded.

"Sorry, you talking to me?" You called, looking around.

"Who else? Is there another spoiled brat with famous brothers here?" She called.

You laughed and shook your head. You knew you'd encounter your brothers haters at some point, knowing they were just jealous idiots as Nick called them and you knew Willow was jealous.

You stood up as she kept taunting you, walking over to her, your friends watched closely. Before you could even think, you punched her in the face. Her friends winced and screamed as your friends cheered.

"You bitch!" She spat.

Willow pushed you down and punched you in the face, your left eye to be precise. You tried to push her off but she was too heavy and your eyes were blurry from the punch. You scratched her arm as she was pulled off you, both being sent to the principal's office.

After a scolding of the principal, you were free to go. You quietly went to your last few classes, hearing the whispers all around you, whilst your friends tried to distract you.

When it came to home time, you walked slowly, wondering how your brothers were going to react. Would they be angry? Worried? Proud even? You couldn't quite figure it out, so you covered your face with your hair, hoping they wouldn't ask.

"Hey kiddo!" Matt called.

You glanced up and saw the car. You gave a wave as you climbed in the back alongside Nick.

"How was school?" Chris asked as Matt began driving.

"Alright." You mumbled, looking down at your lap.

"You okay?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, just tired and hungry." You responded, it wasn't a total lie.

Nick, Matt and Chris shared a silent look as you kept your eyes on your lap. Chris turned the music up slightly, making you sigh in relief, thinking they weren't going to ask.

But they did.

"Why are you covering your face?" Matt asked.

You looked up slightly and noticed you were parked in a restaurant car park. You sighed and looked out the window.

"It's just how my hair is." You lied.

"No bub, what are you hiding?" Chris asked.

You knew fighting wouldn't work, it would only make all of you angry. You caved and moved your hair out of your face and let them see your black eye.

"What the fuck!" Nick screamed.

"Is it bad?" You asked.

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Chris she has a fucking black eye of course it's bad!" Matt shouted.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Nick asked, gently touching around your eye.

You then explained everything that happened, how Willow was being and how you punched her but she got you back. How she and her friends had been picking on you and your friends for a while.

"What did the principal say?" Chris asked.

"I got lunchtime detention tomorrow and if it happened again I'd be suspended." You answered.

"Well, I'm proud you stood up for yourself, but pissed you got caught." Nick said, making you laugh as Chris and Matt shouted.

"You shouldn't be fighting people, not in school, petal." Matt said.

"I know but she made me angry." You responded.

"We understand, bub. Next time, out of school." Chris said.

You laughed and nodded, letting them have their jokes. You were happy they weren't really mad, but you still had to face your parents yet.

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Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[sillygoosealert]

Can you write about Smoke finding out his significant other has been harming herself and has been depressed for sometime but would try to hide it from him so he wouldn't worry?

They’re just Cat scratches I swear

Tw self-harm by cutting, pretty self-indulgent as my own experience but also like this is pretty much everyone’s experience combined, hope whoever sent this is okay, I hope you all are doing okay

Tomas angst, you might die at the end if I'm Feeling Silly

You're training with Tomas in a black long-sleeve

An odd choice considering you're training at the Shri-Ru-Yu but he doesn't question your fashion choice

Afterward, he tries to take you to the hot springs so you don't rot after training

You decline and insist you want to just go to bed

‘How come? We never hang out anymore, did something happen?’

A grim expression covers your face and you excuse yourself to bed

after you train you don't even shower, you just sleep

You sleep a lot, its like you hate being awake

So he desides to get you a sweet treat to cheer you up

That's how he cheers up, little acts of service

He gets you a small cupcake with pink sprinkles

But when he gets to your door, he hears muffled crying

It's like you're sobbing into a pillow

Afraid you are hurt- or something worse, he rushes in

The sight before him is horrific, blood-smeared across your arms and thighs

You're shaking harshly too

He goes over to the bed confused

‘What did you do?!’

Then he notices the razor blade in your hand

And then you notice he noticed the razor blade

Then you start crying even harder

And then he has to put the cupcake down

Then you drop the razor blade, nicking your thigh in the process

And then he has to quickly grab it, putting it on a flat surface to get it away

‘What happened? Why did you.. why didn't you tell me?’

You start to babble incoherent things, curling into a ball and sobbing

Maybe you're having a crying spell

He crawls into bed with you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in

‘What happened? Talk to me..’

You just cry into him, blood-smearing onto his uniform

Now he's holding you close while rubbing your back

‘Baby I don't know what to do, let me clean you up, please’

You calm down enough to nod and let him drag you away to the bathroom

Its so much worse is good lighting

The cuts are close and long, covering the majority of your thighs

They are sloppy on your arms, not as close or neat

He's shaking with you

And crying

You're both crying a lot

Then he starts a bath

‘I'm going to clean you up, okay? It's going to be fine..’

You don’t know who he’s really saying that to

He places you into the bath, the water lightly changing its shade

‘Gods.. why would you do this? I would have helped you through it.’

‘I’m sorry’

That’s all you say, the time he spends bathing you is spent in silence

The world is cruel and incredibly unfair, you both knew that

But how could someone like Tomas, who has experienced it firsthand, continue to go on when you couldn’t?

He lost his family because he was supposed to, and he still wakes up every morning and lives

But you weren’t like him.

Something neither of you could quite grasp

But that made him scared

What happens when it gets bad again?

Who’s going to save you from the disease that is death

Though, you could also call his love for you a disease too

But that is something he wants no cure to

He cleans your cuts with tears and sobs

Then drys you off without a word

Holding your arms with a firm grip, he stares into you

‘I won't be telling anyone. But I hope you know you aren't going to be leaving my sight anymore.’

You nod your head quickly ‘Okay’

Then he places his head on your thighs

‘You can't leave me. Not yet, not soon..’

Then you run your fingers through his hair, his slightly bloody hair

He doesn't wrap your wounds, letting them heal on their own

But he does take you to bed and lays on top of you, making sure you can't leave

‘Why didn't you tell me?’

‘You have enough on your plate, you didn't need to stress about this.’

‘I want to worry about you, to remind you that I care. I'll always care’

‘Thank you..’

‘I love you’

‘I love you too’

Silly 🎀