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togenabi · 1 year

Text

the language of flowers

gojo satoru x reader (royalty au)

♡—All your life, you have been training for the role of Empress... But nothing could have prepared you to be Satoru's wife.

word count♡— 4.7k (I came back swinging y'all)

genre♡— fluff, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— arranged marriage, romance, crown prince (maybe ooc) gojo, flowers, no use of y/n, afab!reader, ur a princess we're all princesses, minor chara oc's, mentions of my other au's, reader's father is a jerk, reader is tough but falls hard, not fully proofread

author's note♡— this took a while! september was ridiculously busy for me but I did my best with this to compensate! this is also very self indulgent, but I hope you enjoy it! xoxo, belle

As a child, you found out of your engagement to the Crown Prince by accident.

On a chilly winter's evening, you had been chasing the Royal Secretary's cat around the palace. Your father, the King, would frown upon you playing games at this hour. You should be writing essays, learning dance or banquet etiquette.

But all that can wait, you think. You've just spotted the end of a fluffy tail dart around the next corner.

When you catch up to it, the orange tabby is curiously peering into a room—whose grand double doors are slightly ajar. Eyes widening, you quicken your steps but make sure to minimize any sound. The last thing you needed was to be spotted skirting your duties right in front of the King's study.

You let out a huff of relief once you've gently picked up the cat, your arms hugging it to your chest.

Just as you're about to sneak away, however, you hear your name.

From the gap in the door, streams of golden light pour out; contrasting with the darkness of the hallway. The silhouettes of your father and his Secretary leave shadowed patterns on the floor.

You listen, as these silhouettes plan your future without you.

“Ha!” The King bellows. “My daughter. Empress. I never thought I'd see the day.”

Your heart stutters. What?

“When will you inform her, Your Majesty?”

The shadow on the painted tiles waves a hand dismissively as your father does.

“I'll leave that to you, Montgomery. Tell her that she should be honored.”

Heavy footsteps sound as he paces. “It was concerning to have a daughter as a firstborn. I knew she couldn't be made to rule what I've built, but I'll finally have a steady pawn in The Empire once she's sent away.”

Pain shoots into you. Your eyes begin to sting. You had always known your brother was the favorite despite all the hard work you've put in, but to be spoken of as a pawn... Could it be that you have not worked hard enough?

You suddenly remember where you are. Remember how slacking off brought you here. Heartbroken, you hug the cat tighter.

The words your father speak as you walk away deepens the dagger in your chest.

“Do not settle for anything less than perfect for her coursework. She's to be Empress, after all.”

On that chilly winter's evening, your heart froze over like the snow-covered branches looming outside.

...

Several years later.

The carriage goes over a bump in the road, but you do not show discomfort or act without grace. Your expression is controlled and your posture is correct as you balance yourself.

Across from you, Secretary Mont holds a newspaper up, the front page faces you as he reads. Large bold letters take up the entire upper half of the paper:

‘CITIZENS QUESTION IF EMPRESS-TO-BE IS WORTHY OF THE CROWN PRINCE’

You scoff. It makes Mont meet your gaze over the paper before flipping it; he frowns disapprovingly at the front-most article.

“Do not mind them, Your Highness.” He folds the paper and sets it aside—as if it would help prove his point. “The people are not used to your presence yet, but they will be. They will see how you are the perfect choice for Empress.”

The Princess is power hungry, someone who was interviewed had said. You wanted the Empire for yourself, apparently.

Jealous. Vain. Possessive. Dramatic.

Shifting your gaze to the window, you contemplate what you had done to garner such a negative image. Could you have done anything differently?

Your father's face appears in your mind's eye. That same ever-present scowl on his face as he says you should do better. You should be grateful. You should be nothing less than what you've been preparing all these years for. Everything must be perfect.

The Imperial Palace comes into view. It stands high and grand, shining under the bright midday sun. The cloudless blue sky above it makes the scene picturesque.

After the wedding in four months, it is to be your new home.

The Imperial Princess, your betrothed's younger sister, greets you when you arrive. You curtsy to each other, and she surprises you by reaching out to take your hands in hers. She gives them a firm yet friendly squeeze.

“I'm pleased to welcome you, my sister-to-be.” She beams, and you return the look with your own small, composed smile.

“I am honored to be here. Thank you for taking the time to receive me personally.” You gently lower your hands, letting her go.

She leads you inside, passing lines of palace staff as you enter.

“Congratulations on your own engagement, by the way.” You say honestly. After assessing her for a moment, you carefully remark, “I hear you and Prince Toge are quite happy.”

“We are.” She nods, smile glowing even more at the mention of her beloved. “Please allow me to say that I hope you and my brother find your own happiness, despite the ‘political arrangement’ of it all.”

“I thank you for your well-wishes.”

“Would you like an escort to your chambers?” The Princess offers once you reach a grand curving staircase.

“If you have other duties, I will not keep you.” You give her a bow, the ends of your dress brushing the polished marble flooring.

“Very well.” She nods. “A servant will inform you when dinner is ready.”

Gathering your skirt, you make your way up the steps to the east wing, where the guest chambers are.

Your eyes find the path to the west wing, where the royal families' rooms can be found. Soon enough, you would be heading there instead of east. Hopefully, the Prince will be amicable to live with.

The chambers reserved for you are exactly how you remember them. It's spotless and feels homey despite you only visiting a few times a year.

This is the only place you can be truly alone. Your father, try as he might, has no power here.

You step towards the balcony, opening the glass doors that lead outside. The wind caresses your skin like a soft kiss to your cheek, and you take a deep breath to savor it.

Four months.

That's all you have left. Four months of freedom here.

Another breeze passes. It carries with it a tiny dandelion wisp. Catching it almost feels like holding onto air, and yet it is there between your fingers. Small and weighing nothing, but there nonetheless.

For such a small thing, it strengthens your resolve.

You're not here for freedom. You're here to be Empress. And that's all that matters. You will not let anything get under your skin and interfere with your responsibilities.

...

So you said, only to find yourself in a very unexpected situation.

Dinner was uneventful, your only gripe was that your betrothed was not present. You had hoped to show everyone that you got along well... Even if you've only really spoken a handful of times.

However, once you returned to your chambers, you spot the balcony door open once more. Beyond it, looking out at the view of the city, was the Crown Prince himself.

You try not to let your unpreparedness get to you. Bowing respectfully, you greet him. “Good evening, Your Highness. May I ask what brings you here?”

The Prince turns to you, crossing one ankle over the other as he casually leans on the balcony.

“There you are.” Satoru says, his head tilting as he observes you.

You eye him warily, trying to decipher his intentions. If he wanted to see you, he could have simply shown up to dinner. “What are you doing?”

He steps forward. You step back. “Is it a crime to want time alone with my—”

Sighing, you should have expected him to want more time with the future—

“—wife?”

The word knocks the wind out of you.

Of all the names you have been called, ‘wife’ is a new addition to the list.

You are your parents' daughter, your country's princess, and are to be the Empire's most powerful woman.

And yet, to one person... to Satoru, you are to be his wife.

It's almost strange to think about. Your earliest memory of your betrothed is back when he was small and scrawny. It was difficult to take him seriously back then.

Now, something has changed in him. Or it could also be that he's always been like this, and this is a side to him he doesn't show to others that often.

Satoru watches you process the word, seeming to have something to say, but decides against it. You half expected him to tease you for being flabbergasted, but he patiently waits for you to speak first.

“Why are you here at this hour?”

He grins, eyes bringing shame to those distant stars hanging in the sky behind him.

“I didn't want our first meeting in ages to have so many spectators." Satoru explains. “If I had shown up earlier, the scribes would have taken note of how many times I blinked or how fast I chewed."

His jesting does not put you at ease at all. “I have a feeling you have something to say that should not be recorded or overheard.”

“That's true. However,” Satoru says pointedly, “The hour is far too late for all that I wish to say, so I will simply bid you goodnight with this...”

Out of nowhere, he pulls out a red flower with curling petals.

You keep your eyes on his as you reach for the flower's stem. Satoru watches you back, smiling softly. He's backing away before you can thank him, but he doesn't look like he minds. He seems to be happy you didn't reject it.

“Goodnight, my dear.” He bows, and makes his exit.

...Through the balcony. Again.

You step out and try to find where he disappeared to, but he's gone.

The moonlight out here allows you to get a better look at the flower. How curious. Usually, people in the Empire give roses, don't they?

The red carnation twirls between your fingers, and you think of how much more grand and tangible it is compared to the dandelion wisp that found you before dinner.

...

Carnations mean many different things, according to this book on the language of flowers you picked up. It all depends on the color.

Pink carnations symbolize fondness and remembrance. Some also consider it to mean not being able to forget someone.

White carnations mean purity, good luck, and new beginnings. It's a common way of wishing someone safe travels.

Yellow carnations have varying meanings. Sometimes, they are used for apologies. But most often they are given to express disdain, symbolizing a hopeless state of mind. You stare at the illustration next to the passage. The yellow watercolor is so bright and vibrant, it makes you wonder what it did to deserve such sad connotations.

Setting the book down for a moment, you rest your eyes by scanning the library. Countless shelves with even more countless books. A golden candlestick here. A priceless painting there. A stack of yesterday's newspaper lying a few tables away.

Something unpleasant settles in your chest. You ignore it and resume reading.

Naturally, as is the case for most red flowers, the red carnation means love. True, passionate love and affection.

You shut the book softly, tracing the embossed petals on the cover while thinking of the red carnation sitting on your bedside table.

Things could have gone worse, you suppose. At least Satoru didn't give you a striped carnation, which has no other meaning than rejection.

Secretary Mont enters the library before you could dwell more on that thought. He's arrived with several palace staff for additional wedding plans.

“Your Highness,” Only Mont greets you, but they all bow in unison.

You nod, and gesture to the table. “Be seated. Let's begin with the urgent concerns first.”

Apparently, the most urgent problem was that Satoru had not approved any of the table dressing color schemes. When you review the options, you think you can assume why. There can only be so many shades of white and cream and pearl.

“What shall we do, Your Highness?” One of the butlers ask.

“Give me a few samples, I'll talk to the Crown Prince myself.”

You almost regret saying that, because once you did, several staff began tripping over themselves, requesting you bring up other preparations with Satoru.

Secretary Mont asks if he should schedule an appointment with your betrothed, but you decline. Something tells you that he will show up again tonight.

And so, here you were after dinner in your chambers. A box of wedding planning materials rests next to you on the bed. You left the balcony doors open this time, and he shows up just as you predicted.

“Aw, were you expecting me?” He's smiling at you as he approaches, but it falters once he sees the box.

He lets out a loud breath before settling on your bed too, the box sits between you. “Alright, let's do this.”

“Start with these.” You hand him some fabric swatches, he looks at them in disdain.

“Pearl, then.” He says, barely even looking through all the options.

“Don't decide hastily.” You can't help but reprimand. “It's not just the color you have to consider, but the material as well.”

Satoru blinks, but presses his fingers to feel the texture of the fabric at your suggestion. “Is pearl not good then?”

“It's pretty, but it's too shiny.” You explain. “The sheen doesn't make it soft or comfortable to use.”

“Ah.” He breathes out, understanding what you mean.

You tell yourself your heart doesn't beat louder when he picks the one you had your eye on. Satoru holds the sample fabric up, the label attached reads ‘Snow’.

A clean, classic sort of white. Soft to the touch, almost fluffy. You don't have to tell him that you agree, he can already guess from the way you glance at him.

He doesn't need to know that your eyes strayed to his hair. Soft. Fluffy.

Clearing your throat, you change the subject by bringing out some tableware samples. “Shall we discuss these, next?”

An hour and thirty kinds of invitation cards later, a short break is due. You're writing down your decisions when Satoru calls your name.

You've moved to your desk by now, since your bed has become some sort of wedding moodboard. Something clinking together reaches your ears, and you turn to find that Satoru had tea brought up. He pours you a cup and carefully hands it to you.

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, taking a sip before turning back to the lists in front of you.

“Aren't you tired?” Satoru asks, reading your writing over your shoulder.

“This is actually quite easy for me.” You admit. “Wedding planning is unexpectedly... Pleasant.”

Satoru laughs softly. “You're probably the only one in this palace who thinks it's pleasant to work with me.”

After a moment, he continues. “I suppose... That's a good thing, if we're to be wed.”

His words make you pause writing. You suddenly feel shy, warmth spreading on your cheeks. The kind you're sure isn't from the flame crackling in the fireplace.

How silly that you're becoming bashful after being engaged to him since you were children. The thundering of your heart can wait.

“I agree.” You respond, not turning to face him. You will not allow him to see you uncomposed like you did the previous night. “I wasn't sure what to expect from our marriage, but I would appreciate it if we were companionable.”

The rest of the evening proceeds smoothly, though you do notice Satoru becoming more silent as the night goes on.

The next day, you spot Satoru speaking to foreign delegates. Something is different in the way he carries himself in front of them. His posture is that of a proper Emperor, not a cheeky prince that sneaks into your room at night.

... It's probably best that no one finds out about that, lest a scandal breaks before you even get married.

When the delegates leave, you're about to approach and greet Satoru when he, unmistakably meets your eyes, then walks in the opposite direction.

You're left there, confused and perhaps even a little hurt. But you stone your expression and carry on as if nothing has happened. Your lessons taught you to be graceful, even in times you feel anything but.

By late afternoon, it's painfully obvious that Satoru is ignoring you. When he rushes through his lunch and gets up right when you take your seat, you try your best to look unaffected.

Hopefully, you're the only one who's noticed so far. If word reaches Secretary Mont, word will reach your father... That troubles you more than you can put to words.

Satoru doesn't show up for your scheduled wedding planning session with the rest of the staff. You're careful not to say that you'll speak with your betrothed, and thankfully no one mentions it even if it shows they wish you did. You're not even sure if he'll show up at your balcony tonight.

When the hour turns ten, the time he's usually here, he isn't. You sigh and can't help feeling a little disappointed.

Perhaps you said something wrong last night. Maybe you should apologize for something. Or he could just be busy, you tell yourself. You can't expect the Crown Prince to always have time to sneak away to you, can't you?

Something taps against the glass of the balcony doors. It breaks your train of thought, and causes your heart to leap just a bit.

But when you go to check, no one's there. You open the doors to find a single red carnation, just like the one he gave the first night.

You're only barely successful at hiding your relief. You reach for it and glance around once more, just to make sure if he left any other trace of him. There are none, but after you lock the doors and turn in for the night, two carnations in a glass vase calm you in a way you hadn't let yourself feel in a long time.

...

A maid knocks at your door a tad earlier than you're used to. When you ask about what's going on, she says she has to prepare you for the Crown Prince's departure.

“He's leaving?” You ask as you rise from bed, already headed for the bathroom to clean up.

“Yes, Your Highness.” She sifts through your wardrobe for your clothes. “He is to go on a business trip to settle trade agreements.”

“How long will he be gone for?”

“I cannot say for certain, Your Highness.”

Pausing in thought, you look to the balcony doors.

A rush of determination fills you as you ask the maid, “Could you prepare something for me?”

The head butler said that he could be gone for two or three weeks. Weeks before you see that face of his, which has a surprisingly forlorn expression on it.

“Thank you for seeing me off.” Satoru acknowledges you with a smile, but his eyes reveal how tired and troubled he truly is.

You say nothing at first, silently taking steps closer to him. You could practically feel the air freeze over as everyone watching holds their breath. This is the closest the two of you have appeared in public.

You reveal a white carnation held in the hand you hid behind you. The stem is cut short, just enough so that it fits into the pocket on his coat.

“I will take care of things here while you're gone.” You assure him, taking a step back to admire how the white flower suits him.

Satoru seems to be at a loss for words, but his eyes regain their usual spark when he addresses you again. “It seems I have nothing to worry about, then.”

You feel stares at your back as the carriage departs, but pay them no mind. You intend to keep your word and perform your duties while the prince is gone.

On your way to the library, you overhear the Imperial Princess and Sir Nanami speaking to each other.

They're in the next hallway, and you were just about to turn to it when you hear your name spoken. You press your back to the wall and listen.

“I'm glad Her Highness seems to have liked my brother.” The princess says. “And of course, I know Satoru would have been over the moon because of that flower.”

Sir Nanami hums. “His concerns were nothing to be worried about after all.”

The princess laughs. “Oh, what was it again that he said? That she friendzoned him?”

“It was that she companion-zoned him.”

You huff quietly. So that's why Satoru had been ignoring you yesterday.

“I look forward to their blooming relationship. I'm sure Her Highness will come around.” Is the last you hear of their conversation as they continue on their way, their footsteps fading further into the hall.

Come around? To what?

A grandfather clock chimes to signal the change of the hour, and you realize you've dilly-dallied for long enough. The rest of your way to the library has no people whispering about you and your betrothed or the flower you sent him off with.

But you would be lying if you said you'd forgotten about what the princess said.

...

Ever since Satoru left, he's been writing you letters. He said his sister gave him the idea.

You've given up on replying on every letter he sends. It seems as though he writes to you daily, and you simply can't keep up. He insists on writing no matter how busy he gets.

His fifth letter is so short that it should be called a note:

‘The flowers here are lovely. I had a bookmark made for you.’

That same bookmark, a dried pink carnation, sits between the pages of the novel you're currently reading. It makes you consider pressing the red carnations Satoru had given you so that they're not just left to wilt.

You write back once a week. But what you lack in quantity of letters you make up with the number of pages you write, and you tell Satoru as such. There are many things you want to report, so you don't hold back on anything.

Well, perhaps you don't quite tell him that you can't fall asleep until you spot the moon through the balcony glass. Or that you think of him whenever you're not distracted enough.

In Satoru's fifteenth letter, he brings the unfortunate news that his return will be delayed. He will have been gone for four weeks before he comes home, and the journey back will take three days at the latest.

Unable to express your disappointment outright, you instead imply that he should make haste for the wedding preparations. That he shouldn't miss the food tasting or the floral arrangements.

‘I trust my wife to make all the right decisions. Even if you don't, I'll consider them right anyway.’

There he goes again, calling you wife when you haven't married yet. It also dawns on you that Satoru has only ever called you by name, or addressed you as his wife. He's probably the only person who hasn't referred to you as Empress-to-be.

You're quickly learning that with Satoru, you're finding yourself again. It's rare for you to feel more than just a princess or Empress in training, but he makes it effortless with just a few words.

...

You begin counting down the days when Satoru writes that trade negotiations have finally concluded. He should be home in four days, and you can hardly wait to see his face again.

But of course, Satoru finds a way to bewilder you by arriving home early. In the middle of the night, no less. And naturally, through the balcony.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you try to decipher if his visage is a dream or a trick or the light. But when he laughs, and tells you he missed you dearly, you need no further proof.

Satoru clasps your hands with his, running his thumbs over your fingers and knuckles. Your eyes travel down to his boots, which are filthy with dirt and grass. His hair is ruffled and windswept.

“Did you,” The word settles on your tongue when you pause. “...Rush here on horseback?” You ask incredulously.

Satoru laughs again, and wraps his arms around you. “Are you complaining?”

You blink, and tentatively wrap your arms around his middle. “No. I'm glad you're home.”

Satoru is so warm compared to the night air that surrounds you. You almost complain when he pulls back, but the serious look in his eye makes you keep your mouth shut.

He clears his throat and rubs your shoulders before taking your hands again. You're completely shocked when he sinks to one knee.

“I know that we're already engaged.” Satoru begins. “I know that we've been preparing for this for years, but I just wanted to ask you properly. Because you deserve it.”

He pulls out a ring, a diamond shines at its center.

“Marry me, and I shall spend every moment of my life proving my love for you.”

“Yes. I will.” You respond, and he slips the ring onto your finger. How does he keep getting more and more lovely?

You place your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up to you. You kiss him, and the air ignites like a spark brought to life.

It's tender, and careful, and carries all the things you wish to say to him. How you missed him. How you love the flowers he gives you. How excited you are to have him by your side for forever.

When you break apart, he seems surprised to find you reflecting his happiness back at him. He's about to speak, but not before he can resist the urge to kisses you again.

You smile into the kiss, but place a hand on his chest, pushing him to ask, “You were about to say?”

“...I've always known I would treat you right when we got engaged. That was always a given.” Satoru cradles your face gently, making you feel like the most precious in the world to him. “You were chosen because you're smart, and you worked harder than anyone else.”

“...But I saw you one day, when we were kids.” He speaks carefully. “You were trying your best to impress your father, but not at all happy...”

“From then on, I decided to make it my mission to make you smile.” To prove his point, he places his thumbs at the corners of your mouth to drag them up playfully. You laugh and swat his hands away.

“A real smile, just like that! None of those diplomatic half-smiles you always throw out to please people. That won't work on me.”

“Before you are the Empress, you are my wife. And I will love and treasure you as such.”

...

He says those same words at the wedding. You jest that he has no originality, but it brings you to tears just the same.

The wedding happens in the palace gardens, surrounded by countless beautiful flowers that dance and sway under the sun when the wind blows. Everything is, in every sense of the word, perfect.

For this moment, you are not the Empress. Not yet. The world can wait a day, you decide. Everything else can wait while you bask in the glowing warmth this man offers you.

As you leave the ceremony behind with your arms linked together, Satoru leans into your ear so you can hear him over the cheering crowd. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Petals shower you both on your way, and you can't help but smile. “Just that we're perfect together.”

Satoru laughs in agreement. “Damn right we are.”

Several staff are positioned at the exit of the gardens, ready to escort you both to the carriages that will take you through the Empire to greet your subjects... But something makes you pause at the end of the aisle.

You pluck a red carnation from one of the floral displays before turning to your husband. You tuck the flower into the chest pocket of his suit, snug in front of his pocket square.

When you glance up to see his reaction, he's already beaming at you, looking indescribably happy.

“I love you too.” He says, taking your hand and pressing the softest of kisses on top of your wedding ring.

When you sent him away back then, you remember thinking how the white carnation matched well with him. Looking at him now, however, the red flower over his heart seems to overflow with all the love and all the words that need not be spoken. You like this one much better.

He leans down to pluck another identical flower, and gently tucks it behind your ear.

Satisfied, he holds your hand tight, leading you to the rest of your lives with the assurance that he will never let go.

taglist♡— @flowerjun @mellozhi

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo royalty au #gojo fluff #jujustsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo x y/n #togenabi-writes #togenabi-gojo-01

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healmydesires · 1 year

Text

forever in your eyes (j.m)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to. You’ve never been in love, always thought that falling in love wasn’t meant for you. Until one day, you meet a certain grumpy man.

genre: fluff + romance + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 15k+

tags/warnings: age gap (reader is 27, joel is in his early 50’s), takes place post s1, very minimal use of y/n, soft!joel tbh, kinda shy!reader… at least with joel, flirty joel, joel deserves to be loved, assumed unrequited love from both sides, reader described as shorter than joel, mutual pining, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected sex, piv sex, loss of virginity, soft!dom joel, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), joel has high key an oral fixation, kinda pleasure!dom?, multiple orgasms, creampie, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, joel is huge… literally packing oof, lots of pet names (darlin, sweetheart, angel, baby girl, etc.), reader has a sister (named emilie, so if that’s your name I’m so sorry 😭😭😭 you can imagine another name then 🥺. I didn’t want it to be y/s/n because that would be so annoying to write imo).

a/n: this is my first joel fic. this is kinda more soft tbh… might be a bit oc? I don’t know but I love it. It’s pretty self indulgent !!! I’ve always loved writing but I got a lot discouraged in the past, giving up on it. I was inspired to start writing again by some of my favourite writers @joelmama and @joelscruff. also english is like my third language so please be nice/gentle with me. do not give me unsolicited advice pls <3 anyways! I hope you enjoy it 🥺

please don’t forget to interact, reblog or let me know if you read/loved it! <3 thank you ily 🥺

AO3 ● playlist

You knew you had feelings for Joel Miller. You’ve always liked and cared for him, even when you first met.

You still remember the day you met him. Clear as day.

It was such a warm and beautiful day, like a year and a half ago. The sun was beaming down on you as you were reading a book that you found on one of your trips outside Jackson — on your front porch of your house. The blowing mid-summer wind was hitting your face, cooling, as if to apologise for the almost unbearable heat that Jackson was currently subjected to. The soft breeze was caressing your skin and hair making the heat a lot more bearable as you enjoyed the day.

You were so immersed in your book that you didn’t hear the people approaching you until there was a shadow descending over the pages of your book. Someone was standing in front of you, their body blocking the sun.

“Yes?” You said with a smile without looking up from your book.

“I would like to introduce you to some people.”

The voice belonged to Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Your eyes widened at that, and you looked up from your book and saw that there were two other people behind Tommy looking down at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said before you cleared your throat, giving them a sheepish smile before standing from your lounger, shielding your eyes from the sun to get a better look at the strangers in front of you.

A teenager gave you a polite smile as she introduced herself. As you gave her your name in return you finally noticed the man next to her, gave you a curt nod when you locked eyes with him. He had a broad build, dark eyes and brown peppered hair. You assumed he was around the age of fifty and you couldn’t help but find him incredibly handsome.

“This is Ellie and my brother,” Tommy smiled as he gestured to both people next to him. “They’re your new neighbours.”

You knew Tommy had an older brother but you didn't know what you had been expecting. Maybe someone less handsome. As you continued to take him in you realised you were staring. You felt your body becoming more warm as you felt him stare back at you.

“How’s it going? I’m Y/N.” You gave him a small smile as you stepped forward to extend a hand out to the man.

"Hello," he repeated your name with a deep southern accent, which did nothing to calm your racing heart. You don’t think you’ve ever heard a voice that attractive in your entire life and it made heat flood to your cheeks. His hard expression melted into a more soft one as he took your hand in his. "I’m Joel, how’s your bench going?”

Your eyes widened at his words, “My bench? How did you—”

“We saw you through the living room window earlier this morning or more like Joel did.” Ellie, the teenager said with a huge grin on her face.

“Ellie.” He warned under his breath. His ears turned red and the two of them began to argue in hushed whispers, but your mind was elsewhere as panic began to set in.

Oh my god. He noticed me?

You grew embarrassed as you realised that he saw you struggle to fix that old bench on your porch. You’re painfully aware of how clumsy you are and that you’re not handy at all but you don’t like to ask other people for help. It was not because of your pride or any of that sort, you’d hate to burden someone else with your issues, so you mostly keep trying to fix things yourself.

"Oh yeah..." You said, looking back towards the bench that has been the bane of your existence these past few days. Your words effectively pulled Joel and Ellie out of their current argument. "It's a bit broken and needs some fixing."

Joel just looked at you for a moment before speaking up again. “You know, if you want, I could come check it out?”

You felt your cheeks heat up again at his offer and you glanced over at Tommy. “Uhm…”

“We both used to be contractors back in the day, so if you ever need anything repaired or something built, we are your people. Well… Joel specifically.” Tommy laughed.

“Oh, that’s cool. I think I’m good for now though, I don’t need any help but thanks for offering.” You declined politely with a small smile. You knew you could use their or his help with repairing the bench, but you didn’t want to burden anyone. And the older brother was already making you feel flustered, you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself when you just met.

“Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” He gave you a small but genuine smile before the three of them walked away from you.

As they walked away, you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding. The hammering of your heart only registering as the distance grew between you. You felt a bit of disappointment once they were gone, a sense of longing setting in your heart as you thought about the tall and older man that you know you’ll grow to care for.

—

“God damn it. Work with me please.” You grumbled as you tried to fix one of the loose wooden planks of the bench. Sweat was dripping down your forehead as you concentrated on your task at hand. You were on the floor, crouched underneath the bench you were so desperately trying to repair. You’ve been trying to put it off for a couple of weeks now but you knew you couldn’t keep doing that. You knew you should ask someone for help but you didn’t want to give up just yet. Curse words wouldn’t stop leaving your mouth as you struggled. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t take you as a girl that could curse like a sailor.” A low and deep but still soft voice resounds behind you.

“Ah shit!” you gasped as you heard the voice behind you. You’d smacked your head on the edge of the bench when you’d startled at the sudden intrusion. You recognised that voice. Joel Miller. The man that’s been consuming your thoughts for weeks now. You hissed as you rubbed at the already sore spot and landed on your butt as you looked up at him.

The bemused expression morphed into one of concern as he crouched down to your level. “Are you okay?” He replaced your hand with his own, making sure there was no visible injury.

His touch made your body turn hot as he continued to study you.

“Yeah I-I’m fine. Although, I do think it will be a nice bump later.” You chuckled. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, it’s not good for my heart.”

“And your head,” he said as a grin replaced the one of concern. You were glad to be sitting because that smile has been making you weak in the knees lately. Ever since you’ve been introduced you’ve been talking and hanging out here and there, finding out that the man can smile sometimes. You’re not entirely sure why he felt so at ease around you but you were truly grateful that he was spending time with you. (It might be for the fact that Ellie grew fond of you and loved to ask you a million questions whenever she was around.) He had the prettiest smile you’d ever seen and it lit up his whole face, you truly wish he would smile more. Subconsciously you started biting your lip as you admired him.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He questioned with a chuckle as he looked at the state of the bench next to you.

Your face grew warm as you moved to focus your gaze on your hands. “I’m fine.” You whisper softly as you continue to look at your hands in your lap.

You heard him sigh before he took your chin gently in his hand to tilt your head back, making you look into his eyes.

“You know it’s okay to ask for help sometimes?” He said as he studied you intently. It was hard to maintain his eye contact, your face heating up more under his intense gaze and because of the close proximity of both of your faces.

His brown eyes stared into yours and you couldn’t help but find them the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever looked at. Your eyes flitted all over his face, not being able to stay in one place. You couldn’t get over how handsome he was. His head tilted to the side and he gave you a questionable look. You felt embarrassed as you realised you hadn’t replied to him yet.

“Sorry,” you bit your lip nervously as warmth spread even more to your cheeks. Your eyes moved away from his face to a spot behind him as you stared into the distance. “I just don’t want to burden you.” Your voice sounded so small and squeaky that you cringed internally. Embarrassed, you quickly drop your gaze to your lap.

“Oh, Darlin’,” he said gently, his expression turning more soft. “Sweetheart, you could never be a burden.”

“I’m sorry,” you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep yourself from getting emotional. “I didn’t mean to… I just— I just always feel like it’s best I do everything myself all the time because I don’t want to annoy anyone with my problems.”

You’ve always been someone to wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re a very sensitive person and very in tune with your emotions most of the time. People saw you as a very caring and helpful person but when it came to your own things you mostly tended to yourself. You’re aware that most people aren’t like you, at least not anymore ever since the outbreak happened, but you didn’t care. There’s strength in sensitivity.

“You could never annoy me,” Joel frowned. “especially not when it comes to you struggling to do something on your own.”

You weren’t used to people caring for you the way you cared for others. So when Joel reassured you or took the time to hang out with you, you couldn’t help but feel appreciated.

His reassuring words gradually eased your anxiety. You let out a long sigh before looking up at him again. “O-okay, I-I think… I might need your help.” You stutter, hoping he didn’t catch it but he smiled at you warmly instead.

Shit, he’s so pretty. Come on, forget it. He could never have feelings for you.

“Good. Because I’d love to help.” He winked at you with a crooked smile.

Warmth flooded your body as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but feel flustered around him. You’re certain that your heart is running two hundred miles per hour, because it felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

It’s just a silly crush. You told yourself.

—

Turns out, Joel Miller, your hot new neighbour, could be very handy.

He was able to fix the bench you've been fighting with for weeks in less than an hour. You were truly impressed.

As he brought back the supplies he used to repair the bench back inside to your supply closet, you couldn’t help but want him to stay a little longer. Besides, you wanted to thank him for being so helpful. You’re relieved and so grateful that the ‘demon bench’, as you had called it, was now fixed

“Thank you for helping me out, Joel. It means a lot to me.” You said as you smiled up at him as you both walked towards your front door.

“Oh darlin’ it’s no problem. I loved helping you.” He said with a grin. He moved closer, making your breath hitch which made him smile even more. “You can ask me anything. Whenever you need.” He winked and you felt your insides melt at his words and his actions.

“I-I want to be able to thank you. Give something in return for your help.” You smiled shyly at him.

“You don’t have to do anything for me sweet—”

“Please, let me make you dinner. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.” You cut him off as you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Ellie is welcome too!” You added nervously when he took a bit longer to reply.

He snorts softly at your words before clearing his throat. “Ellie isn't in tonight,” he says as he avoids your gaze for a few seconds “she’s at this girl’s place she hangs out with a lot. So it’s just me.”

“Oh that’s okay! I’m sure she can join us next time.” You flashed him a bright smile. “But, I’d love to make dinner for you tonight… if that’s okay?” You asked with pleading eyes.

He chuckled fondly at your expression as he shook his head with amusement. “Of course. I’d love that.”

You felt like you were going to burst out of excitement. Internally you’re screaming, kicking with your legs like a schoolgirl thinking about her crush. You really loved spending time with the man.

Joel followed you back inside as you quickly disappeared down the hall and into the dining room that’s connected to your kitchen. You saw him admire the walls of your dining room from your peripheral view as you’re rummaging in one of the cupboards of your kitchen for a cutting board. Most of the paintings were either more abstract gradient paintings or heavily inspired by the Impressionism art movement.

“You have lots of paintings. They are very pretty.”

“Thank you. Some of them are made by me or my sister.” You smiled genuinely as you made your way back to him.

“Really?” He asked curiously.

Your smile turned timid as you looked up at him, Joel's inquisitive look making you even more shy.

“Yeah… we both love art. Especially making our own sometimes.” You cleared your throat with another bashful smile, before looking down at your shoes.

“Is your sister…?”

“Is she alive? Yes” you finished his question. “She lives here in Jackson with her boyfriend actually.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. I’m truly grateful to have her in my life.” You told him. “She’s my best friend.”

“That’s beautiful” he nods at you as a small smile graces his features. You can’t help but feel yourself get more warm at his soft expressions. He’s so beautiful. “How did you two find your way to Jackson?”

“It’s a long story. I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but, originally my sister and I weren't from here… the USA I mean.” You told him.

Joel’s eyes widened at your words. You giggled at his expression.

“We are originally from Europe, I was still very young when the outbreak happened. I was around? Seven years old. We were in San Francisco when it happened and my sister and I haven’t really moved from that place for a long time ever since everything went down.” You said as you walked back to the kitchen.

“Christ. That’s very young.” He said, he looked shocked as you told him as much as you wanted him to know.

“Yeah but Emilie was four when it happened.” You said as you bit your lip.

“It must be hard being trapped in a foreign country. Especially when you’re a child.”

“Yeah… My parents eventually died when I turned eighteen. So it was just Emilie and I for a long time. One day a couple of years ago she went outside the San Francisco QZ and I hadn’t heard from her for a long while. I just… I had to look for her, she’s my sister, she means everything to me. I would literally travel through this whole country just to find her. I always felt like I needed to protect her. I’ve always been very overprotective of her, just like I know she is with me.” You chuckled as you shook your head with amusement at your previous words.

“Overprotective huh?” He said as he flashed you a grin as he came to lean against a wall close to you.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I am the big sister but sometimes it does feel like she’s more overprotective than I am.”

“Your sister seems very nice. I do understand her being overprotective though.” He smiled as he leaned closer to you.

“Oh really?” You bit your lip as you continued to prepare everything for dinner.

“Yeah, I mean you’re a precious little thing so I do understand her overprotectiveness.” He muttered.

Heat rose up in your face at his words. You couldn’t look up at him, feeling too flustered to look him in the eye. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest as you kept repeating his words in your head. He thought you were precious.

Was that flirting? No. He would never flirt with you.

“Y-you think so?” You question shyly, still not meeting his gaze.

“Uhuhm” He hummed softly, “I don’t only think that, it is so. You’re very precious.”

“O-oh.” You were at loss for words.

Joel chuckled, probably because of your flustered state, before he noticed you struggled with the ingredients. “Let me help you sweetheart.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said. But as most people knew, Joel was a stubborn man.

“Darlin,” he looked at you pointedly, letting you know that you wouldn’t be able to stop him from giving you a hand.

“I’m making dinner for you, to thank you. You shouldn’t be helping me.” You huffed as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. You’re aware you probably look like a child but you can’t help it. Dinner was supposed to be made by you, and only you.

“Oh angel, being in your presence is rewarding enough for me.” He says as he leans closer to your ear.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words. The sound of his deep voice close to your ear, and the feeling of his breath against your skin, made you fight the urge to shiver.

Joel smiled playfully, eyes looked down and locked with yours for a couple of seconds. The close proximity made your skin set on fire. He could lean down a bit more and then his lips would be on yours. You slowly pulled back, clearing your throat while you did.

“A-a-anyways.” You stuttered. You hated stuttering, you never really stuttered but somehow this man could turn you into a flustered, stuttering mess. His smile widened at your state which made you want to run and hide. You decided to change the subject. “I had to go through some states to find her and eventually I found her. Then we travelled together through Wyoming and then some people from Jackson surrounded us and that’s how we got here. That was almost a year ago.”

“So… You are pretty new here?”

“Yep.” You said as you smiled at him.

It was silent for a moment as both of you were preparing everything for dinner. Until your eyes widened at the realisation that you hadn’t offered him anything to drink yet.

“Oh shit, sorry. I can’t believe that I haven’t offered you something to drink yet.” You said as you abandoned your current task, running towards another supply closet, looking for something good for the both of you. “Give me a second.”

You could hear Joel chuckle, knowing he was probably looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You were looking for a specific bottle of red wine, your favourite, the ones you always keep for special occasions. Once you found it you couldn’t help but squeal excitedly. “Aha! Here it is!” You smiled triumphantly as you held it in your hands.

You were grinning widely as you came back into the kitchen. “I’ve got some red wine, I hope that’s okay.” You said as you placed down the bottle on the kitchen counter.

“More than okay.” Joel smiled.

You beamed up at him and opened one of the cabinets, you stood on the tip of your toes as you struggled to reach for some wine glasses.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself. “Why did I put those glasses so high and so far in the back?”

“Let me,” he chuckled softly as he stepped behind you, his body pressing softly against yours. Your breath hitched at the action and warmth spread all over your body. You mentally cursed yourself as you felt a heat pool between your legs. Different kinds of scenarios started going through your head as you felt his body pressed against yours. You wished his arms were wrapped around you as he stood behind you. But one of his arms extended over yours as he reached for two glasses easily. “Here they are.” He whispered as he leant down to whisper close to your ear.

You truly felt as if you caught a fever. He’s so close and so big. As his chest brushed against your back you felt as if your brain short circuited for a second. He was so broad and tall while you were so much smaller than him, he could quite literally swallow you whole with his frame.

You felt his body slowly retreat from yours, giving you the possibility to collect your thoughts again.

“Show off,” you grumbled teasingly, warmth still filling your chest and face.

Joel snorted, shaking his head amused. “You’re just tiny.”

You gasped dramatically, turned around and feigned offence at his words. “Am not!”

“Sure you aren’t.” He teased, a grin forming on his face.

You giggled at that, “you’re just awfully tall.”

“Right.” He nodded along to your words, tried to look as serious as he could, he tried to stifle a grin and you could see right through him.

“I am right.” You pouted.

“So am I.” He retorted playfully, a loud laugh left his lips as you continued to pout, before he took a step closer to you.

Your cheeks warmed, but you tried to hide your embarrassment by crossing your arms and sticking your chin up in the air. Huffing you turned around, “get back to work Mr. Miller.”

“Yes ma’am” he said in mock seriousness as he went back to making dinner with you.

“You’re so silly,” you giggled as you teasingly bumped your shoulder against his arm. You went to open the bottle of wine before pouring some of the liquid in both glasses. Once the glasses were filled you held a glass out to him.

“Only with you darlin’,” he gave you a wink before he took the glass from your hand. Flushed, you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped in your chest when his fingers brushed against yours.

This man is going to be the death of me.

—

Dinner was very nice. There was lots of banter, lots of words exchanged from Joel that felt awfully like flirting but still you tried to push those thoughts away. He wouldn’t flirt with you. You’re pretty certain of it. The tension sometimes was killing you though. You think it was sexual tension but then again that would be impossible because he wasn’t flirting with you.

But you also noticed that the more you hung out with Joel the more relaxed he was around you. You loved that for him. Underneath all that rough exterior he has so much depth to him. He’s very caring, protective, helpful, funny, and so intelligent. He’s so sweet to you too, you didn’t know why. But all you knew is that you care for him so much. You felt comfortable around him too, safe. You couldn’t help but associate him with warmth, safety. Home. He felt like home to you.

Empty plates were still on the table and for a while you were enjoying the comfortable silence between you two. Eventually you broke that silence.

“The wine is so good.” You whispered as you looked at your wine glass then brought your gaze softly to the man sitting across from you. He seemed like he was lost in his thoughts, staring off in the distance as he looked through the window outside towards your garden.

He brought his gaze back to you as he heard your voice, he cocked his head to the side. “Hmmm what did you say sweetheart?”

“It’s good right?” You ask as you motion with your head to the drink in your hand.

“You’re not wrong. It’s very good.” He nods with a soft smile.

“It’s my favourite,” you flashed him a grin before you took a generous sip of your wine, the liquid burning down your throat.

“Oh really?” He questioned with a curious smile.

“Yeah, I keep them for special occasions.” You said as you bit your lip, feeling bashful.

“Is that so?” Joel’s smile turned into a full smirk as he looked straight into your eyes. “I am assuming this is a special occasion then?”

You hummed your agreement, shrugging your shoulders with faux nonchalance as you continued to bite your lip. Warmth was overwhelming you. Not only because of the alcohol you consumed but that man always made you heat up.

“I’ll consider that as a compliment.” He said as he leaned back in his chair.

Excitement bubbled inside you. Feeling bold, you winked at him. “As you should.”

He was visibly surprised, Joel didn't expect you to finally flirt back. You giggled at his reaction, pleased to see that you could surprise him.

You stood up from your seat with a smile as you took the empty plates from the table, bringing them to the sink.

As you’re about to turn the faucet on you heard him stand up from his chair. He muttered your name, his voice coming out a lot deeper than usual. Fighting back a shiver you slowly turned around to look at him. Your eyes were wide with curiosity and your heart was pounding so hard you could barely hear over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. He looked at you, a desperate expression on his face.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice hoarse as his dark eyes continued to hold your gaze. For the first time of the night you couldn’t fight back the shiver from going down your spine. Heat flooded your body, your cheeks burning, the warmest you’ve ever felt them.

Joel must have noticed the way your body was reacting to his voice, as he dragged a low shuddering breath at the sight of you.

“Joel?” Your breath turned heavier as you waited for him to say or do something. Your wide pleading eyes stared into his hungry eyes. He continued to stand there just looking at you, his chest moved quicker as he breathed more heavily. Your heart pounded so fast and hard that you were worried that he could hear it from across the room.

Your eyebrows pulled together as you stared at him, your eyes shining with curiosity. You waited with bated breath for Joel to say what he was meant to tell you. He looked at you desperately before he moved from his spot, striding towards you but before he could reach you, someone barged through the door of your home with a loud bang.

“Hey! I knew I’d find you here.” Ellie yelled without looking at both of you. Once her eyes settled on both Joel and you her mouth fell open. “What’s happening?”

You were breathing heavily as you looked at Joel. Eventually you brought your gaze to the teen. “N-nothing, Ellie bean.” You stuttered out quickly, moving away from the kitchen towards the younger girl. “We just had dinner.”

Her eyes widened, “without me?”

Your face flushed with embarrassment before you turned around to look at Joel. “I thought she was at—”

“I’m assuming you told her I wasn’t home tonight, right?” Ellie cut you off, raising one of her eyebrows as she looked at him.

Wait what? Did he want to be alone with me?

Joel swallowed and then avoided both Ellie and your gazes. “Alright.” She snorted.

“I think it's better if we go home.” Joel finally spoke up, before walking towards Ellie. You feel yourself deflate at his words and you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

“O-okay.” You whispered, looking down as you entwined both of your hands nervously.

Ellie looked at you with sympathy before glaring up at Joel. “You’re so stupid.” She grumbled under her breath as she gave him a shove as she made her way to the front door.

“Ellie,” he warned her.

“You are.” She sneered.

Joel sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He dropped his hand before looking at you. “Thank you for dinner,” he said with a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you for fixing my bench on the front porch,” you gave him a faint smile. “I enjoyed spending time with you.” You said as you looked away timidly.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me.”

You bit your lip as you avoided his gaze. He said your name softly before he held your chin gently with one of his hands, tilting your head towards his face which made your eyes lock with his own.

“I always enjoy spending time with you.” Warmth rose to your face at his words. He gave you a warm smile before releasing your chin.

You walked with him towards your front door, leaning against it as you tried to say your goodbyes to each other.

“I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too.” You said as you bit your lip.

“Goodnight darlin’.” He said with a barely noticeable smile before he walked out your door.

Your eyes met Ellie’s waving at you from in front of your porch. You return the action with a small wave.

“Goodnight.” You whispered before you closed the door behind them. You rested your back against the door, exhaling a long breath you realised you didn’t know you were holding in.

—

You were in too deep.

As months went by, you were more and more aware of how strong your feelings were beginning to grow for Joel. So strong that they were starting to terrify you. Not because you didn’t want to have these feelings for him, no that was certainly not it. You just never experienced feelings this strong for someone before.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to.

You’ve never been touched intimately before, never had sex either. You knew how inexperienced you were but so far, you just hadn’t found someone to be worthy of your time.

You’ve never fallen in love with anyone before. And these new feelings were truly scaring you. For so long you were so certain that you’d never fall in love with someone. That falling in love wasn’t meant for you. That those feelings would never exist for you. The apocalypse hadn’t made things easier either so it wasn’t like falling in love was an option for a long time. But now that you’re relatively more safe, it was a possibility.

It was so much easier when it was just a crush, or an infatuation, despite the fact that you knew that crushes usually wouldn’t make your heart swell so big or your lungs feel so tight when you think of them or see them. But now, it’s a lot harder to pretend that it’s not more than that.

You always dreamed of the day you’d finally fall in love but now that those feelings were here they made you feel like you wanted to run and hide.

You’re not sure you’d be ready to confess those feelings to him any time soon. You were quite certain that they would be one sided, so you’d prefer to keep those to yourself. Because why would someone like him ever see you the way you see him, the way you feel for him. You were a lot younger than him, around twenty years or so. You’re twenty seven. So it seemed impossible for you that he could regard you in the same way you did.

So you decided to do just that, keep them a secret. And you were completely fine with that, with your feelings remaining completely unknown to anyone but yourself.

Or so you thought.

—

On a beautiful warm spring day, you decided you were going to indulge in your favourite hobby. Drawing.

You’ve always loved art, specifically, you loved sketching. If it wasn’t for the fact that the world ended, you’d like to think you would’ve studied art or tried to become an artist.

You were pretty good at it actually, not to sound too full of yourself. But with the way things were, your skills weren’t at their full potential. And besides you didn’t like to tell most people, keeping it a secret because you were always too shy or embarrassed to show people your talents. So you sketched as much as you could in your free time.

You loved to draw all sorts of things, nature, still life, animals and sometimes, people. But on top of your innocent drawings you also had a specific secret sketchbook that you only drew in when you were certain you were alone.

This sketchbook was dedicated entirely to indulging in your massive crush on Joel Miller. (Okay, crush is an understatement.) It was usually difficult to draw a specific person when they weren’t standing right in front of you, but you had seen his face so many times that it was nearly photographically imprinted in your mind. You would often summon his face up whenever you were alone. As many times as you could. Most of these were just his face, the sketchbook was definitely filled with several of him smiling. Some were just details of, for example, his hands or his eyes. Or even his nose or lips.

Everything about him made you feel warm inside. You would always be a flustered mess around him and it would even make you heat up when you’d draw him. Sometimes you’d have to take breaks from drawing him because you’d start getting too hot from thinking about him.

You often felt like you were doing something bad or wrong, like you were some sort of stalker when all you did was admire him.

It was a specific drawing you were currently working on, after checking and double-checking that you were truly alone. It was a beautiful day and you had the day off, so you figured what better way to spend it then by sitting on your front porch all day while enjoying the weather and sketching out what you’d seen the man do during your shared patrol the day before.

The drawing was him holding his gun as he concentrated on a target in front of him. You were so focused on sketching him as well as you could, wanting to capture every feature of him in the best way possible. You recalled his intense expression, the way his jaw clenched while he was so focused yesterday. His dark brown eyes and his handsome side profile—

“What are you drawing?”

You practically jumped and yelled as you heard the voice close to you. Hurriedly you tried to close the sketchbook as you addressed the person standing close to you. “Ellie! You scared me. What are you doing here?”

“I’m just done with school and thought I’d drop by. I kinda wanted to spend some time with you.” She smiled at you as she was leaning against the wall. The soft expression slowly turned into a more mischievous smile as she cocked her head to the side to study you. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You swallowed nervously before giving her your best smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well… you’re looking pretty nervous or flustered. Embarrassed even.” She said as she smirked deviously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine.” You said as you tried to keep your composure.

You could never tell Ellie about the fact that you’re drawing Joel. He’s practically her father figure. Besides, you were quite certain it would make the whole situation awkward.

“You sure?” She asked as she leaned closer to you. “Could it have something to do with… what you’re drawing?”

“I— no. I mean no.”

“Hmmm.” Ellie hummed as she looked at you suspiciously.

Before you could react, Ellie snatched the sketchbook out of your hands at lightning speed.

Fuck. fuck. FUCK. Please no.

“Ellie—”

You sprang to your feet and quickly tried to grab the book back from her, but Ellie pulled it just out of reach at the last second with a huge teasing smirk on her face. Your face burned with shame.

“It’s nothing Ellie, please give it back!” You couldn’t hide the terrified desperation in your voice.

“You sure it’s nothing?” She said as she hid the sketchbook behind her back.

“Yes!” Apprehension fills your bones at her actions.

“Ah, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind letting me take a peek at what’s inside right?” Ellie grinned dangerously as she moved the book in front of her.

“Please give it back.” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you pleaded for her to give it back.

Shit. It’s over.

As she opened the book on a random page, a gasp left her mouth. “Oh my god?!”

“Ellie, I’m—”

“You’re drawing Joel?” She whispered with wide eyes as she flipped through the pages.

You’ve never felt your face warm up this hot in your entire life. “No?” You said nervously but it came out more as a question.

Ellie said your name softly as she looked at you with a huge smile. “You have a crush on Joel?”

“I— I-I’m— uhm I don’t know, I just—” you stuttered as you tried to retrieve the sketchbook. Ellie pulled back which made you want to scream internally.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” Her face softened as she saw you look utterly terrified. “If anything, I’m very happy.”

“What?” You asked as you blinked your tears away.

“How could I be mad at you? I’ve always wanted Joel to be happy. He deserves that, even if he often doesn’t think he deserves that himself.” She smiled at you before looking back at some of the drawings inside the book. “They’re very beautiful by the way. I love drawing too.” She stepped closer to you as she went to put the book back in your hands. “Besides,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “he has a crush on you too.”

“Oh.”

Warmth flooded your body as you listened to her. You quickly felt overwhelmed by her words and everything that happened, you needed to sit down to process it better. You went to sit down with the book in your lap, looking down at it as you were at loss for words. It was very difficult for you to wrap your head around what she said. Joel having feelings for you? You couldn’t allow yourself to believe it. As you let her words sink in, she took a place next to you, placing a hand on your arm and giving it a small reassuring squeeze. Ellie gave you enough time to collect your thoughts and you were truly grateful for that.

You heaved out a long sigh. “I don’t have a crush.” You finally spoke up but not meeting her gaze just yet.

“What? But—”

“Saying it’s a crush is an understatement.” Your voice trembled as you finally looked at her. “I’ve never felt like this in my entire life, so it’s hard for me to deal with what I’m feeling.”

“Oh.” She said as her eyes widened. “You’re… In love?”

“I am pretty sure I am, yes.” You nodded with a small smile.

“Okay. Well he has feelings for—”

“Ellie, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have feelings for me.” You interrupted her.

“Oh my god,” she groaned as she hid her face in her hands, mumbling, “you’re both so oblivious.”

“What?”

“You’re both so stupid. So oblivious.” She groaned once again as she threw her hands in the air. “You both think that the feelings are one sided.”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off as you let yourself lean back on the bench. You’re quite certain that you’re the only one being so consumed by these emotions. You’ve pretty much made your mind up about the fact that it’s impossible for him to return any of those feelings that you have for him.

“The atmosphere when I came in the last time both of you had dinner, just the two of you, certainly didn’t look like it was one sided.”

“Barged in.” You corrected her teasingly as you bumped your shoulder into hers.

“Okay, whatever. My point still stands.”

“Ellie, that was months ago…” you sighed deeply and shook your head at her words.

“Stop. Why do you do this?” She asked exasperated.

“Wh—”

“Why do you believe that he wouldn’t have feelings for you too?” Ellie questioned as she leaned closer to you. “Like, you’re so pretty and have such a lovely personality.”

“I-I I don’t know. I just find it hard to believe. Besides,” you shrugged with a frown “I find it very hard to deal with my own emotions because I’ve never been in love before so this is so new to me.”

Her eyes softened as she listened to you. Slowly, she brought her hand to squeeze your arm reassuringly. “I can understand that. But love is a beautiful thing.”

“True…” you whispered.

“I can understand being scared, but Y/N you’re so worthy of love. Just like Joel is. I am convinced both of you are meant for each other.” She said with a hopeful expression.

“Ellie—”

“I’m serious. Just, please think about it for a while. You both deserve more than this secret pining for each other.” She grumbled at the last sentence.

“Okay I will. Can we please talk about something else now?”

“Sure.” She shrugged with a smile.

“Thank you, Ellie bean.” You said gratefully.

It’s quiet between you two, as you two sit in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the beautiful weather and each other’s company.

“So… drawing huh?” She grinned.

—

As Ellie and you were talking about your shared love for drawing you heard someone approaching the both of you. Ellie is the first one to look up and she greets the person with a wide smile.

“Hi Emilie!” Ellie beamed as your sister stepped foot on your front porch.

“Oh, here are my favourite girls!” She said with the biggest grin on her face. Emilie brought her hand up to high-five Ellie. “Hey ravioli.” She said as the youngest girl hit her hand.

Ellie scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Jeez, just because I love ravioli doesn’t mean you have to call me that. Can’t a girl love food in peace.”

Your sister doesn’t reply to the teen and averted her attention to you, greeting you too. Emilie gestures for Ellie to scooch over, before she plops down on the bench between both of you. “So what are you guys talking about?”

“Hey! That bench was recently repaired! There’s no need for you to let yourself fall on the seat like that.” You groan at your sister's silly behaviour.

“Recently? That was months ago.” Ellie counters with a playful smile.

“Ah yes, the bench that the love of your life repaired.” Emilie said with a dreamy expression.

You gasped at her words, feeling your cheeks heat up instantly. You gave her a light shove, “Emilie!”

“What?” Your sister shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s true.”

“Love of your life?” Ellie beams.

You sighed dramatically before leaning against the back of the bench. “Look at what you just did.” You gestured towards Ellie.

“Oh quit the theatrics.” Your sister rolled her eyes teasingly. “Everyone knows you have feelings for Joel except for that man himself.”

Your eyes widened as her words registered in your mind. “Everyone?” You squeaked.

“Yes, just like everyone knows that man is pining over you except for you!” Your sister said exasperated.

You shook your head frantically. “You’re ly—”

“Oh my god, Y/N.” Ellie groaned. “Wake up.”

“Yeah, lovely sister of mine,” Emilie placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a serious look, “respectfully wake the fuck up.”

“Disrespectfully, Emilie, shut up.” You said to your sister, shrugging her hand off you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, pouting as you still leaned against the bench.

“Why are you pouting? This is a good thing.” Ellie huffed.

“Yeah, this is a good thing. Why don’t you want to allow good things into your life?” Emilie asked, looking at you seriously.

Silence fell for some moments, before you whispered, “I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do!” Both Ellie and your sister said simultaneously.

You bit your lip as you looked at them silently. You knew deep down that you deserved to love and be loved in return but it was so hard for you to accept that someone could genuinely have feelings for you. It wouldn’t make any sense, you were always used to people that were attracted to you to expect something from you that you weren’t ready to do or they wouldn’t genuinely care about who you are as a person. You knew Joel was different, he showed you enough through the past year. But somehow your mind tried to tell you otherwise.

“This is driving me insane,” Ellie sighed, shaking her head.

“Ellie,” your sister said pointedly at the younger girl before turning back to look back at you. “Y/N… you are so worthy of love. I know you’ve never experienced this type of emotion or feeling ever before, but you deserve to feel safe with someone and to love someone deeply and for them to love you just as fiercely. I know you keep thinking because of past relationships, friendships or situationships that people aren’t truly interested in you or that people don’t genuinely care for you. But, those people do exist. Ellie cares for you, I do, and I am completely certain that Joel cares for you too. You deserve to feel loved, cared for and to be happy.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at your sister’s words. You felt truly overwhelmed by everything she told you. Deep down you knew she was right, you were trying to believe her words but you knew it might take a bit of time.

“Thank you.” You whispered, tears flowing down your cheeks as you hugged her side. “You don’t know how much that means to me. It might take some time for me to truly believe everything you said but I want to try.”

Both girls went to envelop you in a warm hug, squeezing your body tight. You felt your body relax in their embrace.

“I love you.” Ellie whispered, at her words you hugged her body tighter.

“I love you too, Ellie bean.” You smiled, tears still in your eyes as you leaned your head against the crown of her head.

And for the first time in a long time you felt like your heart could breathe again.

—

A month passed and you still hadn’t confessed your feelings to the man that’s been consuming your very brain for a year. You still hung out whenever you could, but telling Joel how you felt about him still terrified you. But as time passed, you allowed yourself to believe the words your sister and Ellie told you. It was very freeing.

One thing that didn’t change though was your stubbornness. You are certain you will always hate asking people for help. Like for example, the fact that your shower head was acting up so much you couldn’t take proper showers which made you have to use Emilie’s shower at her place sometimes. Until the shower head actually broke.

That’s why a few days later, you were standing in front of Joel’s door, contemplating if you should really ask him for his help. You bit your lip as you thought about it. Sighing, you told yourself that you should just do it. As you were about to knock, the door opened.

Your eyes widened as you came face to face with Joel. Your cheeks heat up as you lock eyes with him. You know you shouldn't be flustered right now because he is the only one who can help you. And he did tell you that you could always come to him if you needed his help. Or for anything really. But somehow, you still couldn’t help but feel shy around him.

“Sweetheart?” Joel looked at you worriedly.

“H-hi?” You smiled sheepishly. “Am I coming at a bad time?”

“No, ‘course not.” He shook his head slightly, a soft smile curled upon his lips. “Everything alright?”

“I am alright, it’s just,” you trailed off as you looked away shyly. “I think I might need your help.”

Joel closed the door behind him as he kept his gaze on you. He motioned for you to show the way. “Let’s go.”

You giggled as you shook your head light heartedly. “You don’t even know what I need your help for.”

“That’s where you're wrong darlin’. A little birdie told me your shower head is broken.” Joel’s mouth twitched in mild amusement as you just gaped at him.

Oh my god… Emilie.

Your face burned once again. You couldn’t believe that your sister would tell the person you’re desperately in love with about this. You felt embarrassed, knowing that he knew about you struggling. As if he could read your thoughts, “I only know since yesterday, but I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.” He said as he looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

“O-okay.” You said, groaning internally at your stuttering. “Anyways, yes. I need your help with fixing my shower. I hope that’s okay?” You asked hesitatingly.

“‘Course it is. Show the way, pretty girl.” He winked, beckoning for you to move along.

He thinks I’m pretty?

—

Joel was standing in your shower as he tried to fix the shower head. He smiled as he threw you a thumbs up.

“Ah, here we go. This should work now—” Joel’s smile faltered as water started unexpectedly spraying out of the shower head. Surprised, it slipped out of his hands, dropping to the floor, the spray pointing up at him, which drenched Joel quickly.

Your eyes widened as you took Joel in. His white shirt and jeans are both drenched and sticking to his body. You could see the outline of everything. Your body turned flush with heat as you continued to stare at him. You couldn’t help but find him so hot, with his shirt clinging to his body. He grumbled as he looked down at the state of his clothes. Eventually you moved into action, “O-oh let me get you a towel!” you blurted out. You quickly made your way to one of your closets in your bedroom, rummaging for some spare towels.

“Y/N stop being such a creep.” You grumbled to yourself, embarrassed that you were staring at him so unabashedly. You’re worried that he might think you’re creepy, staring at him like he was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. Well, actually, he was the sexiest man to you. But you didn’t want him to think of you as some sort of weirdo. That’s the last thing you want, for him to think you’re creepy. As you found the towels you were still in such a deep inner monologue while you walked back into the bathroom.

“I found the towels—” you gasp, accidentally dropping the towels on the floor as you took Joel in.

The man had taken off his shirt, most likely because he didn’t like the feel of the fabric clinging to his body. He took your breath away. As you once again stared at him you couldn’t help but let your wide eyes wander all over his chest. He was broad, he wasn’t really muscular but he had a solid build. He was strong and large, and soft in the right places. There were some scars littered over his skin here and there, as a result of the years of fighting to try and stay alive. Some hair was scattered over his body, your eyes trailing along his happy trail, eventually disappearing underneath his jeans. You felt yourself ache between your legs as your eyes continued to roam over his form, studying him with so much intensity. You were still admiring him when he spoke up.

“I’m not really nice to look at.” He mumbled.

Your heart ached at his self deprecated words. You couldn’t believe what he said. How could he think of himself so lowly? You thought he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “W-what?” You said as you shook your head frantically.

“I’m not—”

“Joel Miller, you better stop bringing yourself down.” You said sternly, surprising both of you. You sighed loudly as he looked at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand the need for you to put yourself down when you’re far from unattractive.”

Silence fell for a couple of moments. Until Joel exhaled shakily. “You-you think I’m attractive?” The man asked, he seemed so doubtful.

“I thought that was pretty obvious…” you trailed off shyly as you looked at the tiled floor between your two feet. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious to everyone else.” You chuckled nervously.

You heard him grunt softly before hearing his wet, heavy steps, as he slowly made his way to you. Joel grasped your chin gently, tilting your face towards him. You felt your cheeks burn, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his touch. Your eyes lock with his as he looks at you desperately.

“You think I’m attractive?” He repeated his earlier question more pleadingly.

“I don’t only think you’re attractive… you’re so beautiful. So pretty. Handsome…” you trailed off as you duck your head timidly. “Sexy.” You said apprehensively, before looking away from him. “I think you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen.”

“I think you’re beautiful as well. The prettiest little thing that has ever walked this earth.” He whispers, his voice coming out a lot deeper. “Words can not describe how beautiful you are. Inside-out.”

You felt your breath catch in your chest as you felt your body tremble at his words. You slowly looked up at him, your eyes wide with curiosity. You couldn’t help but like how he was towering over you. He was so broad, so strong. You felt your face burn, biting your lip and feeling incredibly weak as his gaze stayed locked with yours. You felt light headed at the close proximity. You could barely think straight.

He brought his hands down to your waist, holding your body close to his as he smiled warmly down at you. He whispered your name, breath hitching as he looked at you intently. “Sweetheart…”

You breathed his name softly before his lips connected with yours in a gentle kiss. You gasped in surprise at his actions, but you quickly closed your eyes as he deepened the kiss. Joel’s large hands cupped the side of your face in such a tender way it made your insides melt. Never did you think you’d ever be able to feel his lips on yours. And here he was, kissing you. Your arms wrapped around his back, your fingers digging in his back the action making him grunt. His beard was rough against your soft skin, but was so welcomed. You kissed him back just as deeply, hands stroking up and down his back in a soothing manner.

He held you tighter against his body before slowly pulling away, resting his forehead against yours as both of you breathed heavily against each other's lips.

“I hope that was okay.” He said with a gentle smile. Tears welled up in your eyes as you processed what happened, having a hard time to believe that their kiss really happened. Never in your life were you ever able to keep your heavy emotions in control. Certainly not when you were overwhelmed. His forehead furrowed, concern flashing through his eyes. “What’s wrong Darlin’?”

God, why do I have to get so emotional?

“I am so sorry I just. I feel a bit overwhelmed because I always thought you’d never feel anything for me.” You rambled anxiously and your fingers trembled as they swiped under your eyes. “If you have any feelings for me, that is.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty obvious.” He smiled gently, his hands cupping your cheeks. Softly, he brushed your tears away with his thumbs. “Especially after… you know, kissing you.” He said with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Yeah maybe…” you shrugged with a giggle, “you do have a point.”

“I do, don’t I?” He smirked playfully.

“You’re so silly.” You rolled your eyes lightheartedly.

“Only with you darlin’,” he winked.

You felt the heat rise in your face once more. You don’t think you could ever get used to his teasing or his flirtatious behaviour.

“So corny…” you snorted as you shook your head with amusement, “you’re lucky I love you.”

You quickly covered your mouth at the realisation that those words were said out loud. Your heartbeat was beating loudly in your chest, as your wide eyes met his. You wonder if he could hear your heart practically beat out of your chest.

His breath hitched in his throat, as his eyes bored into yours. “You mean that?”

Heat overwhelmed your body, feeling as if you’re on fire. Your mouth felt extremely dry, still you tried to swallow, nodding slowly anticipating his next reaction. “I do.”

The molten intensity made you unable to look away as both of you just breathed and stared into each other’s eyes. You felt as if time stopped in that moment, your bodies so close, yet they felt so far. As he held your gaze, he moved his body closer to yours again.

“Joel—” you whispered breathlessly.

He cut you off, kissing you by surprise. Capturing all the words you were about to say. Completely shocked, your whole body froze as you felt his lips claim around yours, hands pulled your face towards his as he kept pressing his lips further, almost to the point it hurt.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Like a magnet, you felt your body move closer to his, moving your hands around his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

You nibbled on his bottom lip lightly, eliciting a moan from him. Slowly, he pulled away from your lips, to press kisses to your cheek. His lips slowly travelled all over your face. You whimper as his mouth moved from your jaw to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses all over your neck, your hands moved towards his hair, tugging lightly at the roots.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He questioned, his beard scratching your neck as he continued to kiss your neck. Your body trembled against his as he continued to suck, kiss and lick your neck.

“Hmmm?”

Joel groaned and stopped his actions when you didn’t reply to his question, pulling back to look at your face. You feel his stare, waiting for your response. You hadn’t realised your eyes fell closed as you were enjoying his kisses. Unhurriedly, you opened your eyes, looking right into his.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you decided to tell him the truth. How could you not? When he’s looking at you with so much desperation.

“Like… at least a half year ago?” You answered, your hesitant eyes looking into his own.

Joel groaned loudly, enveloping your lips with his once again. He kissed you with so much passion, giving you everything that had to offer. His mouth moves against yours so hungrily. As he continued to give you long and deep kisses, you felt the heat rising within you. The throbbing between your legs felt unbearable as you whimpered desperately against his lips.

“I love you too baby, so fuckin’ much.” He rasped against your lips.

A gasp left your lips at his words and he deepened the kiss even more, as he quickly took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips and swirling it around yours. You felt as if your whole body was on fire as you continued to kiss each other ferociously, your fingers raking through his peppered hair.

He grunted as he pushed your body against the wall. His arms wrap around your body, holding your body close against his. You whimpered as his lips travelled from your lips to your throat, nipping at the skin which resulted in you squirming in his hold. Your hands busied themselves with exploring his exposed back, caressing his skin.

He moved his mouth towards your ear, “you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you.” He murmured. Joel’s lips travelled towards your shoulder while littering your skin with soft kisses. “Kissing you.” His hands wandered unhurriedly against your back, his hands eventually settled on your lower back, just above your ass. “Touching you.”

“Please,” you whined as you tried chasing his lips again, gripping his strong arms with your hands.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” He whispered raspily into your ear. A shiver went down your spine at his words. Joel’s voice carried so much emotion. So much desperation and adoration for you. “I love this baby blue dress on you. Although it’s really killing me right now.” He groans against your neck as his hands finally move to your ass over your frilly summer dress, grabbing a handful of your cheeks.

You felt even more wetness pool between your legs as you thought about the fact that you weren’t wearing any lingerie underneath.

You turned into a bigger whimpering mess as he kept littering your neck, shoulders and face with kisses. You felt one of his legs sliding between your legs, pressing his thigh against your exposed core.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

Joel lifted his head and your eyes caught his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss, not wasting any time as he slipped his tongue past your lips. The man is wrapped around you completely, a hand caressing your back, the other holding your ass. Your body trembled as Joel started rubbing his thigh against your soaked core. You’ve never wanted someone more in your whole life.

“Joel,” you whined desperately.

“Tell me what you want kitten.” He groaned.

A loud whimper escaped your lips at his words. The pet name turned you on extremely. Your hips moved against his thigh, grinding against the clothed material.

“I want you.”

A string of moans slipped past your lips as Joel moved his head up to lick into your mouth.

“Pleaseee.” You whined against his lips as you rubbed your sensitive pussy against his jeans. “I need you.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Ah!” You gasped as he picked you up effortlessly. Quickly, you wrapped your legs around his hips. The both of you continued to kiss each other passionately as Joel carried you to your bedroom. Once he reached your bed he softly placed you down the sheets.

You felt the bed dip before he hovered above you. Joel’s dark eyes stare into yours as his hands move underneath the skirt of your dress, his fingers trailing up your thigh. You felt yourself grow nervous at his touch.

“W-wait.” You whispered.

His movements halt immediately at your words. He looked at you worriedly, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You wanted him so badly and you were extremely wet but you would be lying if you weren’t a bit nervous. Everything seemed more real once his touch moved closer to your intimate parts.

You exhaled deeply. “It’s just… don’t get me wrong, I want this. I literally want you so badly, but I’ve never been with someone intimately.” You said nervously as you waited for his reaction.

“Oh baby girl,” he whispered, looking at you tenderly. “Don’t you worry about that. I will take good care of you.” He smiled as he leaned down to rub his nose gently against yours. “But, we don’t need to do anything if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready, I just don’t want to disappoint you.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip.

“Baby, you could never disappoint me with this. You'll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect. I promise.” Joel smiled gently, looking at you with so much adoration before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt your whole body relax once his lips touched your skin. You trusted him, he was your everything.

Your lips moved to his neck before you placed an open mouthed kiss to his skin. “Please Joel, I need you.” You whispered seductively into his ear.

He groaned loudly before engulfing your lips in a heated kiss. You whimpered against his mouth as his hands started slowly caressing both of your thighs. Your head was clouded with so much lust, you felt so much love for him. Your brain turned quite literally into mush as you continued to kiss each other deeply.

You moved your hips desperately as you moaned against his lips, hoping Joel would get the hint.

“Such a needy kitten.” He chuckled against your lips.

“Only for you.” You whispered as you looked up at him pleadingly. “Please, touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He counters playfully.

“Please.” You whined desperately as you wiggled underneath him.

Moments later his lips pressed against yours again. The kiss got more heated the more you kissed each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at some strands softly making him moan into your mouth. One of his hands slowly trailed up your thigh once again. Your whimpers came out more frequently the closer his hand moved to where you needed him the most. Once his fingers come in contact with your heat you mewl loudly.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your lips, you’re certain because he felt how soaked you were for him. “You’re so fuckin’ wet baby girl. All for me?”

You were overwhelmed with warmth, it felt like a hot storm — as he spoke those words. You nodded frantically. You were sopping wet, you managed to speak but your voice is strangled and pathetic. “P-please. T-take off your clothes.”

“And leave you in this dress? Out of question.” He chuckled as he moved the hand that was touching your wetness to your thigh.

“Who said I wanted to stay in this dress?” You said as you raised one of your eyebrows at him.

“Baby—”

“Undress me cowboy.” You smiled as you pulled your bottom lip with your teeth seductively.

“God, you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned loudly.

“My name is Y/N but god sounds good too.” You giggled.

Joel shook his head with an amused grin on his face. His fingertips find the hem of your dress and you sit up a bit. You raised your arms quickly to help him get rid of your baby blue dress.

You felt your body tremble in anticipation, as his eyes roamed all over your naked body, his eyes not being able to stick to one place. You felt your heartbeat picking up as his hands reached for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips moved to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re out of this world. So beautiful.” He whispered into your ear.

His lips then crashed against yours as you gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing, and took it upon yourself to guide his hand back down to your heat. His mouth fell from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your wet lips.

It's very, fucking wet, more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful sweet girl,” he muttered again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. His lips trail slowly down to your neck, all the way to your chest. Joel breathed in through his nose, you flush harder at his words and shivered when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “The prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

That’s all you’ve been given before he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked passionately, as he also pushed one of his fingers inside your pussy.

The whine that came out of you only drove Joel to seek out more of those heavenly sounds.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He moaned, as your pussy clenched around his digit. “I need to prepare you as much as I can for my cock.”

Your whines became louder as you felt the pleasure overwhelm you. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, one of his fingers is more pleasurable than any of your fingers.

His tongue began licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand kept pumping his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

You whined as your core started clenching around his finger, begging for more. Instinctively you began moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he groaned against your skin. His lips left your breast with a wet pop and he looked at you intensely as he continued to fuck you with his finger. You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slipped another finger inside you. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me.” He panted against your lips.

You bucked your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He noticed and slipped a third finger in, moving them slowly at first as your tight pussy tried to adjust to the addition. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers. You felt so full, you can’t help but imagine him fucking you with his cock, you’re quite certain he’s massive. His pace eventually speeds up as you move your hips along with his movements. His lips moved back to kiss you, whining against his mouth. Your hands clutched the bed sheets as you moved along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spreading them.

“That feels good doesn't it baby? You like it when I play with your little pussy? You like me fucking you with my fingers?" Joel moaned and his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as he fucked you with his fingers. You bucked your hips and nodded as you moaned. "Use your words kitten," he taunts.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, please oh my god. Joel, please.” You writhed against the sheets as you whimpered. “Please keep calling me that.” You bit your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re such a good kitty for me,” he said, a smug smirk playing on his face. You were impressed how easy it was for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.

Joel leans his head back down, trapping your lips in yet another heated kiss. You felt your legs spread even more open for him as you felt yourself get close to your first orgasm of the night. His tongue slipped into your mouth after another gasp fell from your lips. You couldn’t help but moan, whine and whimper as he continued to pleasure you. Your hands wandered to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“Fuck, I need you so bad.” He groaned as his thumb applied more pressure on your little nub. He curled his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shook.

“I need you more.” You whimpered as your body trembled underneath his.

His eyes stared into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastened his motions inside you, you moaned again and squeezed your eyes shut. A burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen made your back arch beneath him.

“Open your eyes for me, my baby.”

You opened your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze was what it took for you to come undone. The hot feeling spread all over your body, your body tingled, your hips moving at their own accord against Joel’s hand.

“You’re doing so well for me angel,” He said proudly as his fingers slowed down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

As you came back to your senses, you felt his fingers slip away from your heat. You felt your pussy clench around nothing every now and then and were dripping down the sheets, which made you whimper helplessly. You needed him so bad. And now. Joel climbed off the bed, making quick work to remove all of his clothing. You were still in a daze, closing your eyes for a minute. Moments later you felt the bed dip.

You felt your legs being spread further apart with his strong hands. A loud broken moan left your lips at the feel of his mouth meeting your soaking wet pussy. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet muscle and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically screamed at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed once again. You felt your body trembling terribly. You needed more. You tried to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continued to shake.

Strong arms were suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

“You taste so good, baby girl. I could eat this pussy all day.”

You felt heat overwhelm your senses more as you felt Joel chuckle against your heat. His tongue was lapping sloppily at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises came out from your throat. You were squirming, it was so good you could barely even figure out what he was doing with his tongue.

“Fuck, Joel baby, oh my goooood” you cried out loud. You were certain that if people walked outside your house that they would have heard you by now. He sucked lazily at your clit while he moved to slip two fingers into you. Joel eventually sucked harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You kept chanting his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

“Please, I’m so cloooooose.” You whined.

As Joel sucked your clit harder, you gasped loudly as you felt your whole body trembling even more and then you felt your body tense as you came against his mouth. Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt truly overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body continued to tremble as you felt yourself come down from your high.

You felt Joel’s tongue still licking up your pussy as he retreats his fingers from your pulsing hole. His mouth felt heavenly, but you whined at the sensitivity. He moaned as he licked against your tight hole, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your entrance.

“T-too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Joel ignored your pleads, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you love so much that was between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He sucked the nub softly between his lips. You were grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling off your lips. This time he didn’t hold you back from fucking his face. Eventually he leaned down, slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You were a mess of his name, you chanted his name over and over again. Your hips moved against his face as you continued to whimper and moan breathlessly underneath him. Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Defiance and greed consumes your thoughts, your fingers once again gripped onto his peppered hair rather harshly and hips pushed against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Ahhh Joeeeeel—” you drag out. You were really so close, you just needed one more little push.

“Come for me kitten,” he whispered against you, before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. That does it, your dam broke down as you came against his mouth as your whole body wouldn’t stop trembling. You came with a loud whine, your hips stuttering as your vision turned white. You cry out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. Your fingers were tightly woven through Joel’s hair and your hips pushed so far against his face, you almost thought you were suffocating him.

“You’re always doing so good for me baby, I love you so much my sweetheart.” Joel whispered against you. As you slowly came down to reality again and you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently, until you whined because the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You Nudged your leg against his face as you tried to squirm away from him, Joel’s mouth finally detached from your heat.

He quickly licked the wetness off his lips and the places he could reach before he crawled up to you with a smile, to kiss you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. You moaned at the taste of yourself against his tongue, your eyes fluttering against his skin while you kiss, his wet beard against your face, your arms wrapped around him to pull his body closer against yours. You sighed, against his mouth, you felt yourself melt in his embrace already. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours, as the kiss gets more heated.

Soon your hands start to grip his body tighter against yours, your legs tangling together. It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, fuck” Joel rasped, and it was because he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loved the sounds you made as he spread his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You quickly realised by the way he felt while he rubbed against you that he was huge. You were still so wet, but the thought of him finally entering you with his big cock made you wetter. Joel swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against yours. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You were trembling against him, filled with anticipation. His broad body covered your body with his. Loving how bigger and taller he was than you. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“Are you ready for me darlin’?” He whispered as he looked deep into your eyes. “Let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” He promised.

You bit your lip and nodded, too shy and excited to talk, as you rubbed your pussy against his dick.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “I need you to use your words kitty.”

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, sweetheart?” He said before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He rubbed the tip firmly over your swollen clit then moved down to your wet tight hole and your mind was all over the place.

“P-please J-Joel…” you stuttered as your body trembled even more underneath him.

He rubbed himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arched your back slightly and whimpered loudly out of frustration.

The moment you want to beg him again he leaned down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Joel slid the tip in so slowly it was agonising. Your lips part with a gasp. He was careful, like he was afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushed more of him inside you. You whined at the stretch of him. He was so big. You thought big was an understatement, he’s huge. Your tight pussy clenched around him as it tried to accommodate his massive girth. Joel continued to push more of his cock inside you. He leaned down to kiss your lips gently as he moved more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

His hips stilled once he heard you gasp loudly. “So full…”

“Do you think you can handle more?” He smiled tenderly as he looked down at you.

“T-t-there’s m-more?” You stammered with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly.

“Please,” You closed your eyes and whined as you nodded. You gripped the bed sheets between your fingers as you begged him for more.

“Good girl,” he groaned softly. You thought there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he said those words you felt your heat get sopping wet. Your pussy continued to pulse and clench around his cock as he moved deeper inside you.

Once he bottomed out, you felt his tip kiss your cervix. Joel let his body rest against yours as he allowed you to adjust to his size. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more.

You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Joel.”

“My sweet girl needs me to move?” He asked teasingly, as he cocked his head to the side.

“Yes, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thickness rather hard which made him moan. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He licked his lips before he nodded quietly and started moving slow and deep, one hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other held your hand tightly. The sting was hurting for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it.

“Such a tight pussy,” he groaned.

The angle was so good, but when his pace picked up he finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action made you gasp and you grab at the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.” He whispered as he nuzzled his face against your neck.

You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss. At a certain point you felt the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escaped your throat, a strange cry of his name.

“Feeling good sweetheart?” He grunted, a small smirk forming on his lips.

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed your mewls, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulled tight, tight, tighter. His lips slid away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tried to suck in air again, and everything was too much. It was just too much for you to handle.

He quickened his pace, his hips snapped up to yours to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it, baby girl?”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moaned at the feeling of his speed, your fourth? orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, Christ I bet you’d look so pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Joel, fill this pussy up.”

He groaned as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically at his words with your eyes closed as you bit your lip harshly. He brought one of his hands down, rubbing your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’d cum.

“F-fuck fuuuck, Joel-Joel, oh my god. I’m going to—!”

“Cum for me, my pretty angel. Let yourself go. Cum all over me.” He moaned against your ear.

Your whole body trembled as you came with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you held his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. That time around, the orgasm felt more intense than the others, you were feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure. Joel groaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,“ he moaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Until it’s all full and messy?”

You nodded vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

He groaned loudly, as he cummed inside you. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread within your walls. You whimpered at the feel of his cum dripping out of you.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Joel leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“Please… stay.” You moaned softly.

“Of course baby,” he whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Want you to stay inside.” You whimpered as your pussy clenched around him.

Joel groaned, wrapping his arms around you before rolling both of you onto your sides. “anythin’ for you, baby.”

“I love you Joel.” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, enjoying his strong hold on you.

“I love you too sweetheart. You’re everythin’ to me.”

Both of you continued to caress each other’s bodies, whispering sweet nothings, kissing and holding each other until you both fell into a slumber.

Joel caught your heart, promising to hold onto it forever.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #tlou x reader #tlou x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #my writing #I’m aware that there are lots of grammatical errors and just me accidentally switching tenses #I’m just too tired to fix it all 😭

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 3 months

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Introductions (2.0)

Hello and welcome, all! I've been around these parts for a while, but I felt the need to revamp my intro :)

About me:

↪ Leah, she/her/any pronouns

↪ In my early 20s

↪ Reader, writer, sometime animator

↪ Been doing martial arts for over a decade

↪Huge fan of CJ Cherryh

↪I reblog stuff from @leahpardo-pa-potato

My writing:

↪ Generally fantasy, with sides of horror

↪Posted in regular chunks of 500-1k words

↪I love tag games, esp OC ones :)

↪I do mini-series, one-shots, and novels

↪I will love you forever if you send me an ask

↪See my full list of writing here

↪I have a taglist, interact here to join!

WIPs / Longer stories

The Unwanted Visitor: (Completed)

Aida's house has been haunted by a spirit for as long as she can remember. Thing is, she's grown used to her Unwanted Visitor (or Vis, as she likes to call him). So when exorcists come after him, she does what any sane person would: protect her brother friend.

↪ Urban fantasy-comedy, very light-hearted

↪A lot of found family and sibling squabbling

↪If you like teens causing chaos, this is for you!

↪Final bit here

A Perfectly Normal Schoolgirl:

All Katherine wants is to eat mortal food, bask in the warmth, and be a normal schoolgirl. But when a boy begs her to help him save her parents, she finds herself fighting for her (and his) life once more.

↪Urban fantasy with a side of horror

↪ Basically an inversion of a bunch of tropes

↪My attempt at writing fantasy without mentioning magic by name

↪Latest bit here

Fast Food:

An embarrassment to his entire tribe, Hash is lazy and uninterested in anything. So, when he reaches majority, he gets unceremoniously booted out of home. Follow his adventures through Triworld, as he somehow ends up in every single single conflict across the continent.

↪High fantasy with a side of humour

↪Very heavy Lore™ and Worldbuilding™

↪ My excuse to ramble about fictional history

↪Latest bit here :)

Lich-Queen (Completed):

Iraela has all but won: the King of Ceredell and his bride are gone, the cities fallen to her army of undead, and the way to the throne cleared for her. But her coronation, and her sanity threaten to fall apart under the weight of duty. Can she hold it together until she truly becomes Lich-Queen?

↪High, dark fantasy with some horror and gore

↪Watch Ira slowly lose her mind in real-time

↪If you like cannibalism, you'll love this

↪Full thing here

The Novel™ (Mind of a Mercenary):

Luna, Terror of Garvenoi, mind-mage extraordinaire, has been caught at last. Whilst everyone celebrates, she is given an ultimatum: Be an indentured hunter for the government, or die. But when she signs on with them, she finds that perhaps death might have been a better choice...

↪ Urban Fantasy set in a Non-Earth world

↪Starring a sassy, mean-girl villain protagonist

↪Enjoy several hundred pages of Luna trying and failing to run from her duties

↪Latest snippet here (find the others on my masterlist of writing)

Finally, my taglist! If you interacted with this post/already asked me to add you, and you don't see yourself here, please remind me! I may have accidentally missed you :')

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

Oh pls kill me I felt so silly doing this- Anyways bye guys hope to see y'all around don't judge me for this

#writeblr intro #writeblr cafe #writblr intro #writerscommunity #writing community #writer stuff #writblr #writerblr #writeblr #writing

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syninplays · 6 months

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So uhm... I did a thing...

✨Character Info Template✨

Been meaning to do this a long time ago (and actually started it but never finished it, lol) as a way to share some more information about my ocs without needing to use a custom page theme, but mostly because I haven't found any page theme that looks exactly as I want and allows this much customization.

There are two versions and both are almost exactly the same; but the example shown in the left has an 'appearance' section which is small and has few quick facts regarding the oc's appearance; while the example on the right has a 'moodboard' section instead which allows you to add more info about your oc.

You can change every section/title to fit your needs like I did in the examples below; I personally removed some categories as well and got rid of some connections as this oc doesn't have that many close friends/partners to fill the original template. However, I also included an extra separated 'connections' section in the download in case you want to add more people and more information.

I recommend you stick to square-shaped pictures so it's easier to fit them to each section. Also if and when you edit the information or section titles, please select only one line at a time to replace it so you don't lose the text format. (Titles shouldn't change because that's a single format/font within the same text box, but should it change you can always hit ctrl+z hehe) When you're done, I strongly recommend you save this as a .png instead of .jpg so it's the best possible quality!

Last but not least, this is a .psd file. So you'll need either Photoshop (I did this with Photoshop Portable, but it supports newer versions of PS and it *should* support older versions too) or Photopea to open and edit this file.

Credits: Adobe Photoshop, Inter font, Golften Vintage font

>DOWNLOAD< (patreon but free :p)

(note: I'm posting this with my gaming blog because I think my fellow gamers might be interested in this, but please consider giving credits to me if you use this template by tagging @synindoodles instead of this blog)

More info on how to use and edit this template below the cut!

Layers:

>Each layer is properly named and categorized. The general layers such as the background, the icon shape and background shapes are under the groups.

>If you don't want to see/don't need one of the connections' pictures and information, I recommend you find which one it is (1, 2, 3, 4, 5 or 6) and click on the eye symbol next to the layer to hide it so that way if you ever need it, it won't be truly gone.

>To edit a text section, simply find the layer (such as General Information>Left Column) and double click on the 'T' symbol next to the layer. That way it will open edit mode and allow you to edit the text, just don't hit delete or enter while everything is selected or you'll erase it :p

>Main text sections aren't separated, they're blocks of text. I recommend you don't remove the amount (for example, if you downloaded the version with the 'appearance' section, which has 5 sections of information, don't remove the fifth line.) Either leave it empty or replace it with another data, otherwise it will look weird. The 'general information' section might look good even if you remove a few lines, just don't get rid of the whole block of text.

Pictures:

>To add a new picture, simply paste it over this document and move it using the Move Tool.

>To frame it (so it becomes a circle or fits over the shape you want), make sure the picture layer is over the layer you want, then while holding alt click between the two layers. [For example, if you want to add a new main oc picture: 1) paste the pic you want, 2) move it with the Move Tool so it's covering the big circle, 3) once you've fully covered the shape (if it isn't you can resize it by right clicking on it then on 'free transform', sometimes you might need to hold shift to proportionally resize it) make sure the newly pasted pic layer is over the layer named "picture goes here", 4) hold the alt key and hover your mouse cursor over the line between your pic layer and the circle layer until you see an arrow going down symbol, once you see it click it and tah dah! your picture should now have the same shape as the circle! - you can further move it if it doesn't fit the way you want with the Move Tool (;

Others:

>You can change every color, font and section to your liking, just don't change the general layout of the template.

>To hide/show the guides (those bright blue lines all over the document), click ctrl+,

>'Inter' is a free font and you can get it in the link above (linked with the credits), Golften Vintage is not, but you can get the demo version >here< (just scroll down and click the blue download button under license). I will not tell you how to install fonts as it might be different for everyone (for me it's C:/Windows/Fonts and I just drop the zipped files (except the .txt one) there), but google is your friend.

>I can't think of anything else that needs to be said here, but if you have any other question feel free to send me an ask or dm and I'll help you out!

>Last but not least, a like is appreciated if you plan to use this plus consider tagging @synindoodles if you use it <3

#psd template #template #characters page #muses page #muse page #muse template #character template #character page template #oc page #oc page template #synindoodles #rp resources #rp template #roleplay resources #roleplay template #writers resources #writing resources #writing template #writers template

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gretavangroupie · 3 months

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The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 8)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader, Jake Kiszka, x OC

Word Count: 23.0k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Manipulation, Sexual Themes, Crying. Smut: Kissing, Fingering, Oral F!Recieving, Oral M!Receiving, Protected Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We made this one extra long for you as a thank you for your patience.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

HER POV

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Isla coos. “I have heard all about you.”

She what?

“About me?” you ask, a little taken aback.

She grins and shrugs, dropping your hand as she eyes you, “Oh you know, just things…Little snippets here and there. You’ve made quite a name for yourself in this little circle of ours.”

You look over to Jake who is looking at you with a pleading expression. He knows he’s been caught. You quickly turn your attention back to Isla and swallow down your nerve, “Any impression I’ve made has been unintentional.”

She lets out a laugh that borders on the edge of fake, “Oh of course it was, love. You strike me as just the type that stumbles into leaving a lasting impression.”

You give her a fake smile, pretending that her subtle jab didn’t affect you, “Maybe so. Really was so nice to meet you, but I have a few things I need to deal with before we leave,” you say, nodding to her and resettling your purse on your shoulder.

Her fake smile never falters, “Ah, yes. Duty calls I suppose.” She turns to glance at Jake who is standing frozen next to her, refusing to pay her any mind. Her jaw hardens as you walk away, noticing that Jake’s eyes seem to be fixated on you instead of her.

You make your way over to Murph, pulling your suitcase behind you, hoping no one can see the steam pouring from your ears. As you step up next to him, he cuts his conversation with Dean short, turning to look at you.

“Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” he asks, looking over your shoulder towards the group you just left.

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” you lie, taking a deep breath.

His brow furrows as he studies your face, squeezing your bicep in a reassuring gesture. You can tell that he knows you’re lying, but he knows better than to press for more.

Thankfully the transport vans arrive outside, and the dizzying situation at hand seems to fade away in the chaos of getting to the airport. You were thankful to be in the crew van, as far away as possible from Jake and Isla. You spent most of the ride combing through your email and catching up on texts you’d ignored the past few days, and before you knew it you had arrived at Departures.

As you made your way through security you noticed Jake’s eyes on you. You noticed again at the coffee stand. Then again as you tried to read your book at your boarding gate. You refused to look his way, but you could feel his eyes on you. You knew he wanted to talk, but you wanted to hear nothing that he had to say. You wonder why he is so focused on you when Isla is sitting next to him. Shouldn’t he be more concerned with her? You continue to ignore him, pretending to read the words on the pages in front of you, and letting your mind race with thoughts of Murph. Murph who just so happened to be peeking up at you over the edge of his phone. A smile graced your lips for the first time today as you saw him raise his brows, a silent ‘hello’.

By stroke of luck you found yourself seated in the row with Josh and Ty, both of them offering you the window seat instead of the aisle. A wave of relief washes over you as you chat with Ty, everything about him making you feel at home. You laugh at almost everything he says, and you can see why Josh loves him so much. As you lean forward to grab your phone from your bag you notice Murph sitting across the aisle, his leg crossed over his knee as he scrolls through his phone, looking up just in time to catch you staring. He sends you a playful wink as you sit back and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“So,” Ty says, raising a brow. You know what he wants to talk about, the two of you have been dancing around the subject for the last hour.

“So…” you continue, pretending to be unaffected.

He turns to look over his shoulder just slightly, noticing Jake and Isla seated directly behind you. “So, lovely weather we got this morning…”

“Mmhmm…” you hum, tossing your hair over your shoulder. You grab your phone and pull up Ty’s contact, quickly typing into the box.

You

10:06AM: I feel like this is safer

10:06AM: It is, I know she is totally listening to every word we are saying

You

10:07AM: I had no idea

10:07AM: None of us did

10:08AM: Actually, I bet the bitches did

You

10:08AM: The bitches?! I thought we liked them?

10:09AM: We do, away from her. With her… Nightmare.

10:10AM: They totally planned this. Did you see them snickering when you walked up?

You

10:10AM: Yeah, sort of, I was a little caught off guard and didn’t know who to look at first lol

You can hear a shrill laugh from behind you, causing your skin to crawl as Ty shoots you an annoyed look. At this point she has thrown every compliment in the book at Jake, and you’ve heard nothing but one word mumbles come from him.

10:11AM: Gag me, she is so fake

You

10:12AM: She really doesn’t strike me as Jake’s type.

10:12AM: She’s not

You

10:13AM: How do you know?

10:14AM: Honey, I’m dating his twin

You

10:14AM: Fair point lol

“Hey, I have to pee, can I get out?” you ask, finally speaking again.

“Sure, sure,” Josh says, letting you slide out of the seat and into the aisle, making your way to the lavatory at the back of the plane.

As you lock yourself into the tiny box you let out a sigh, quickly relieving yourself and washing your hands as you look at your appearance in the tiny bathroom mirror. You fix your hair a bit and straighten your shirt before unlocking the door to make your way back to your seat. However, when you open it, you’re face to face with Jake.

You meet his eyes, quickly snapping them away.

“Y/N, please, just two seconds,” he pleads, pulling his hands from his pockets.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you begrudgingly look at him, watching his face soften as you meet his eyes.

“I didn’t know. You have to believe me,” he begs, stepping a little closer.

You shake your head, not believing it for a second, “I don’t know, Jake.”

“Please, I swear,” he adds, his hand coming up to graze your arm. You pull away quickly in rejection, watching his hand fall back to his side.

“Can we talk later? Please, just give me ten minutes,” he asks.

You shake your head, “I think you’re going to be occupied later, Jake.”

You push past him and make your way back to your seat, refusing to cave to the voice in your head that is telling you to look over your shoulder. You hate this. You hate that you want to believe him, and you hate that after everything he told you last night, she showed up this morning.

You slide back into your seat with a huff, hearing Isla chatting with Mia next to her and rolling your eyes.

“You good, babe?” Ty asks, turning to look at you.

You give him a fake smile, “Oh, never better!”

You pull your book from your bag and open it with a sigh. A few minutes later you hear Jake returning to his seat and the grating sound of Isla’s voice as she speaks.

“What took you so long?”

—

JAKE POV

Your lips are pressed tightly together as you settle back into your seat, Isla’s words chipping away at you.

“What took me so long?” you repeat, clearly annoyed, “There was someone else in there Isla, I had to wait.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the first class bathroom?” she asks, cutting her eyes at you.

You just shake your head at her knowing you aren’t even going to answer. Sure, you could have gone to the first class bathroom, but you saw your chance and you knew you had to take it. You didn’t know if or when you’d get Y/N alone for two seconds without Isla around.

Those two seconds, however, proved to be useless. She refused to hear you out and after Isla’s little display in the hotel lobby earlier, you didn’t blame her. It was the perfect storm, really.

You’d talked last night. You told her everything. The truth. You felt content sliding into your bed last night, hopeful for what the next coming days would bring with Y/N. It was as you grabbed for your phone to check the playlist that you heard the knock on your door. You hoped it was her, desperate to be with you as much as you wanted to be with her, but when you opened the door it was the last person you expected to see.

It took all of two seconds for your heart to ice over again, just the sight of Isla, causing your body to fill with anxiety and dread. Why was she here? How did she get here?

Her voice was overly sweet as she pushed her way into your room, greeting you with that stupid nickname she tried to force on you. Zero explanation was offered as you let the door swing closed behind her. She made quick work occupying your space and throwing herself down onto your bed. Your eyes flashed over to your phone on the nightstand, hoping she would pay no mind to it as it sat open on your messages.

“What–what are you doing here Isla?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What do you mean?” she asks, sitting up on her elbows.

“What do I mea– Isla! We are on a break!” you answer, raising your voice just a touch. “You are not supposed to be here!”

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah, but did you really think I was going to miss our anniversary?”

“Anniversary of what? We are done Isla, I told you I am done.”

“You always say that,” she scoffs.

“Yeah, because it’s true! What aren’t you getting?” you growl, “Just how long are you planning on being here? I’m working Isla, this isn’t fucking playtime,” you snap. “We are leaving first thing tomorrow to catch a flight to Manchester”

“I don’t see what the big deal is Jakey, I’m just staying in your room. Mia and Lyla helped me figure out all the flights and everything. I have a ticket for tomorrow. I thought you would be happy to see me.”

You rub your hand over your face, doing your very best not to explode, “Isla, no. No. This is not okay. You know this is not okay.”

“You’re overreacting, everything is fine. I’m only gonna be here for like a week. Think about all the trouble we can get into for a week.” she grins, trying her best to tempt you.

“No. No, I’m not thinking anything like that. I’m thinking that I was going to bed and you just woke me up. I’m thinking that you shouldn’t be here, and you know it.” you seethe.

And she did know it. She knew it as you slid back into the bed without another word. She knew it when she woke the next morning to your alarm blaring, and she knew it when you refused to look at her as you packed your suitcase and headed downstairs. Her disgusting display of possessive jealousy in the lobby left you dumbfounded. All you could do was stare at Y/N, praying her mind wasn’t jumping to the worst, though you could tell by the look on her face that it already had. You knew that every single thing you told her last night, every painful truth, was now all a lie in her mind.

So now, as you sit here in the seat behind her on this airplane, with your borderline psychotic ex-girlfriend nit picking your every move, you wonder how you will fix this. Or if there even is a way to fix it, now.

The flight landed shortly after your mental spiral, and thankfully you were being bussed straight to the venue for a soundcheck. The girls and staff were ushered to the hotel, dropping your belongings off before heading to the venue. You were happy to have a few minutes alone without Isla. You wished you could just send her home. Maybe you would. But could you?

The four of you were in the van on the way to the venue, going over the setlist and a few notes from the night prior, laughing and joking as the city passed through the van windows. That’s when it hit you.

You snapped your head to Sam and Daniel, cutting your eyes at them in realization. “You know, your fucking girlfriends did this.”

“Huh?” Danny answers, focusing on you. “Mia?”

“Yeah, fucking Mia and Lyla. They conspired to fly Isla out here for an entire fucking week. Got her tickets and shit. Unbelievable.”

“You didn’t know?” Sam asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Obviously not, Samuel.” you snap. “I don’t fucking want her here. I don’t want her at all! She just does not seem to get that. She is ruining everything.”

The van goes silent, everyone ducking their heads in an effort not to look at you, an awkwardness filling the air in the van as you pull up at the back entrance of the venue. As the four of you make your way inside, you know it is only a matter of time before you see Y/N, rushing through the halls with bags of food and drinks. You want to tell her everything, if you could just explain you think she would understand. But you know how it looks from the outside and you probably wouldn’t want to hear you out either.

You would talk to her tonight. You had to.

—

HER POV

Paul

9:06AM: Rider for the day is in your email! Should be an easy store trip! Thanks

You shove your phone back in your pocket as you step out of the security meeting, wondering why Paul couldn’t have just said that face to face five minutes ago. Alas, you know he has three hundred things on his mind, so him thinking of you at all is a feat. You open your email and find today’s rider, reading off the same old same old items as your eyes scan down the page. Flashbacks of yesterday morning keep littering your brain, but you decide to force them back, burying yourself in your work like you always do.

Isla’s face when she realized who you were… Jake’s expression as he watched the interaction… the feeling of tension so thick you could cut it with a knife as everyone else stood so still you’d think you were statues in a museum. It all felt horrible. It all felt so embarrassing. But, none of it is your fault. You didn’t see this coming.

Though you’d tried to downplay all of the emotion boiling up inside of you for the past couple of days, you set it aside, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before it all comes boiling up, waiting to spit and spatter its way out of you in what would most likely be a very ugly scene.

You didn’t need to order an Uber for the ride home from the store; the proximity was actually fairly close to the venue, and you were able to sneak around the corner and to the market without the need for security. As you push your cart-wagon back down the sidewalk and begin separating the food items into the outside storage container, your mind drifts to the one thing that feels like reprieve right now– Murph. You think about him catching you looking at him on the plane this morning, and how warm your entire body felt as you watched him wink at you. And the fact that tomorrow you’ll be spending the entire evening with him, watching one of your most favorite bands perform by his side.

Does it feel wrong to think of things this way? Using Murph as an excuse to not think of Jake and Isla? Sure, maybe a little. But you never devoted yourself to Jake. And he never set things in stone with you. And for him to explain things to your face so honestly for it all to blow up in your face… ugh. And you really believed him, too. Now the taste in your mouth is dirty and sour, and everything feels so disgustingly wrong. Vengeful. Deceitful as you “use” one man to take your mind off another. But also, who the hell cares? You have nothing to lose, and apparently fucking everything to gain. So hanging out with someone who values your company and actually wants to start things off honestly… why not? Murph makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. He makes you feel safe. And being around him feels like a breath of fresh morning air instead of one that hardly fills your lungs.

The rest of the day flies by as you are dying to get a free second to call Ruth, knowing that her matter-of-fact outlook on life will help you to feel less shitty about your decisions. You’d managed to fly under the radar most of the day, only saying necessary words to your co-workers, and having very little run-ins with any of the guys. Thankfully Paul had sent you on a few more errands throughout the afternoon, of which you accepted gracefully if they let your mind think about anything else other than the auburn-haired tramp holding Jake’s hand.

The craft table is set and ready for grazing, and the fridge and coolers are stocked to the brim with everything the band and crew could need, and you finally get a second to breathe as you listen to the crowd outside cheer for the second opener. Just as you’re stuffing a container of Oreos into a mesh sack, you feel the presence of someone joining you in the small room.

“Hey there mama.”

You perk up, the familiar voice startling you. “Oh, hey Josh. What’s up?” you ask blankly, upset that the time had come that you could no longer avoid any of them.

“Not much, they’re all getting in their zones in there, not much I can do besides sip on this…” he holds up his paper cup of steaming hot tea, giving you a cordial smile as you pretend to keep your hands busy. “You uh, you okay?” he asks, and you wish he would just… go away.

You huff an exhale, throwing one hand on your hip and the other up to scratch the back of your head. “Uh, no. Not really,” you laugh awkwardly. “But, here we are…”

“Listen Y/N,” he goes on, “I’m really really sorr–”

“Josh, don’t. Please just, don’t. I’m already mortified beyond belief, the last thing I need right now is pity, ok?” Your tone is clipped, but it has a right to be.

He nods as he swallows, tapping his pointer finger against his cup. “I get it. Just uh, just want you to know I’m on your team on this one, I really, we really had no idea they were scheming this up,” he explains, his sincerity heavy. “You know how we all feel about Isla.”

You nod in return, biting your jaw sideways as you feel so displaced in the conversation right now. “Honestly Josh, I feel very much like this is none of my business, anymore, so… if you don’t mind…” you quickly check your watch as you blindly make up some excuse to get him out the door.

“It is your business, Y/N. He’s just… Please, just don’t throw him away,” Josh begs, and you hear a commotion on your radio.

“That’s not my decision to make, Josh,” you say as you both hear the radio chime with a ten minute warning. Josh hisses through his teeth as he takes one more long sip of his tea, and tosses the cup into the trash.

“See you out there, huh?” he says as he opens the heavy door to the hallway.

“I’ll have you a fresh tea in a few,” you assure him, casting him an awkward smile.

As the sound of the crowd roars outside, you know that it is time to get the guys their respective stage drinks prepared, and to go and meet them at the stairs. You get everything ready, leaving Jake’s drink the last piece to your puzzle. You’d completely ignored getting him a drink at all at the last show, one last slap in the face as you made your stance. But tonight, you decide to resume your duties, knowing that if you’re going to do anything right at all, it's going to be your job.

You slide over to the corner of the green room, squatting down in the floor to fish for the bag you know he’s hidden. Your hands grip on the black canvas material as you drag it out, a strange feeling of weird nostalgia bubbling up in your stomach. You pull up the heavy bag to rest on the arm of the couch before unzipping it slowly, seeing all his normal items inside. All the items that just a few short days ago, you cherished seeing. The little parts of him that felt so real.

Your hand floats past his change of clothes, his sunglasses, his book, straight to the bottom to grasp onto the neck of the bottle of wine you knew you would find. Just as you bring it out of the bag, the green room door flies open, revealing the overwhelmingly loud aura of Isla.

Her eyes cut directly your way, catching you in the last act you’d want anyone to see today. The eye contact is quick as you hear her scoff at seeing you.

“Uh excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” she asks, her tone biting. She makes quick haste of walking directly over to you, ripping the bag from your hands as the bottom of the wine bottle catches on the zipper, knocking it free from your hand with force. The bottle hits the tile floor, breaking the glass and shattering it into a hundred pieces as the wine splashes all over your feet and the couch.

You gasp hard, catching the bag in mid-air before it hits the floor and soaks everything inside it. “Oh my god, look what the fuck you did!” Isla shouts, her hands covering her mouth. “Why are you rustling around in my boyfriend’s bag?! That’s not yours!” she shouts.

Oh here we fucking go.

You roll your eyes, keeping surprisingly calm as you place his bag back down on the couch. “Just doing my job, Isla. I get them their stage drinks before every show. He gave me permission to get his wine from his bag. Now look what you’ve done,” you spit, moving over to get a broom and paper towels. The rage is beginning to boil up in your belly as you drag the trash can over to clean up the mess, Isla making no moves whatsoever to try and help.

Isla crosses her arms as she zips Jake’s bag back up, mumbling under her breath. The only words you catch are “inappropriate’ and ‘ridiculous’. You roll your eyes again as you finish cleaning up the tiny shards of glass, feeling upset that you wasted an entire bottle of what looked to be an expensive vintage.

As you dry up the remaining liquid from the floor, you realize that Isla hasn’t left, she’s just standing there, watching you clean. ‘Why isn’t she fucking leaving?’ you ask yourself, feeling overwhelmingly out of place. You shake the feeling, deciding to go ahead and finish making the drinks, knowing the time for them to go on stage is drawing closer and closer. You decide to make Jake the same thing you make Danny, realizing that it will have to do. Isla watches you wordlessly as you pop open the drink mixers, perfectly pouring them into his metal chalice cup.

“Can I help you with something?” you burst, feeling so awkward that you could actually scream.

She purses her lips as she picks up a cookie from the table, taking a tiny bite to keep her mouth from saying what she really wants to say. You hear the overture music begin to play in the distance, and you know you have to hurry. You stick your finger into Jake’s icy drink, swirling it around a few times before looking at Isla one last time, popping your finger into your mouth and sucking off the tequila with a smile. You pick up all four drinks and head for the door, letting it slam hard behind you.

You can feel Isla’s presence on your heels as you hurriedly pace down the dark hallway, passing rushing crew members and staff as you hold the drinks steadily in your hands, careful not to spill a drop. You make it just in time as you hand off the Topo Chico, the tea, and the tequila cocktail, saving Jake’s chalice for dead last. Just as his tech helps him place his strap over his head, the room suddenly erupts with loud cheers, the lights beginning to flash wildly. Jake takes the drink from you, glancing into it and quickly realizing it isn’t his wine of the day. He gulps as he makes eye contact with you, looking as though he wants to say a million things, but as his lips part to speak, nothing comes out. Instead, you decide to lean into him, yelling in his ear above the loud noise.

“Hope this drink doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth. I didn’t have a fucking choice,” you bark, stepping back to glare at him. Again, he’s speechless, but the look on his face is questioning. As you move your eyes to look at the woman standing beside you, she pushes you to the side, forcing you to step sideways as she grabs Jake’s face in both of her hands, his hands both too full to push her away. She catches him off guard, planting a quick and forceful kiss to his lips right there in front of you. You scoff as he backs away, using his body weight to separate himself.

He doesn’t even say anything as he finishes ascending the stairs, placing his drink down as he joins his brothers in their places behind the curtain. What a fucking bitch, you think as you watch her try and block your view of them, unsuccessfully. You watch as he cuts his eyes at her, shaking his head in the most unapproving way. His eyes are slit and his jaw is clenched, his knuckles white as he grips the neck of his guitar. Fuck, he is mad.

With only a few seconds to spare, you watch as Jake rushes back over to his amp, grabbing up his drink and tilting it back, chugging what had to be half of it before cutting his eyes at her again, rushing back over to his place next to Danny.

Isla crosses her arms as she backs up to stand beside you, a devilish smirk crossing her lips as she never lets her eyes leave him. “What did you make him, anyway?” she asks.

You bite your lips in before you give her a one word answer, “Tequila.”

“Ahaaa,” Isla laughs as she tilts her head back. “I should thank you, then. That means I am definitely in for it tonight, if you know what I mean.” She smiles hard as the curtain drops to the stage floor, but your heart falls ten times harder. If all that Jake and his brothers said is true, then who the fuck does this bitch think she is?

You’re about to let it all fly before you look her way, realizing that she’s already making her way toward Mia and Lyla in the corner, snickering when the three of them finally join up. Their eyes drift quickly to each other and to you, and you feel like you’re in middle school again. Three grown women whispering into each other’s ears as if you’re being bullied on the playground at recess, making themselves look like absolute fools. How could Danny and Sam not realize…?

Whatever. It’s none of your business anymore, right? You’ve got a job to do, and a really hot date to dream about.

You dash back to the green room to replenish anything that needs it, and you find that you’re interrupting someone.

“Oh fuck, Ty, you scared me,” you laugh, clutching your chest as you watch him chew furiously. “What are you doing?”

“Shit,” he laughs through a full mouth. “Sorry, I’m so motherfucking hungry right now… Please don’t tell anyone it was me tearing up this charcuterie board.”

You let out a full belly laugh, Ty’s presence instantly calming you.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks as he swallows. “Why does it smell like straight Chardonnay in here?” Ty doesn’t even let you answer as he grabs a whole box of crackers and pulls your hand to follow him to the couch, but not before locking the door. “There, now we can talk just us again. You look flushed, babe, what’s up?”

You grunt as you pull a few crackers from the box, stuffing them in your mouth. “Ugh. Isla caught me getting Jake’s wine from his bag, she got pissed I guess and she made me drop the bottle on the floor, it shattered,” you say through a full mouth. “So I made him a really fucking strong tequila drink, instead.”

Ty throws his head back and laughs. “Good! That bitch deserves to drink tequila tonight.”

You swallow, giving Ty a sincere look. “Does he, though? I mean, he did tell me the truth… week too fucking late, but…”

“Yeah I mean, I guess, but he could have banished her and sent her on her merry way back to Nash,” Ty says.

“But he didn’t…” you say softly.

“But he didn’t.”

“Is his heart too big?” you ask, truly wondering.

Ty shrugs, clearing crackers from his teeth. “I dunno, maybe. No matter what he does, he’s the asshole.” You nod, feeling very conflicted in the matter. “Ugh,” Ty complains, “I tried to fix this and it just got fucking worse..” he smacks himself on the face.

“Shh, Ty, it’s okay,” you say, pulling his head back up. “I–I don’t really care, anymore. Besides, I’m going to see the Keys with Murph tomorrow.”

He perks right up. “MURPH?! Oh my god, how is that going?”

“It’s good, it’s fine… nothing serious, but–”

“But you wanna sleep with him, right? He’s hot, I wouldn’t blame you. Oh my god, have you already?! Y/N–”

“Ty! Ty! Jesus, no, I haven’t, calm down…” you laugh, grabbing his shoulders as it hits you why you love Ty so much. He reminds you so much of Ruth that it hurts.

He takes your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “Listen babe, I’m Team You, and I’m really excited for you… but…”

“That’s exactly what Josh said,” you laugh.

He scoffs. “I just want a cool sister in law, that’s all okay?”

“Sister in law?! Are you insane Ty?” you crow, pushing his shoulder as you both fall into laughter.

It calms down for a second while you both listen to the music bellowing through the walls. “So you really like Murph?” he asks, snarling his nose.

You pause for a second, contemplating an answer that won’t embarrass you too much. “I do… if not for anything ya know, like that, just as someone I can hang out with. He’s nice to me, understands me. He bought me Black Keys tickets, Ty! Like how thoughtful is that? Finally some time just me and him, no chance of running into anyone or having to talk to Jake at all…”

All the happiness falls from Ty’s face. “Black Keys tickets? For like, tomorrow?”

“Yeah, why? He’s taking me on a date…”

“Babes, we’re all going to that show tomorrow,” he says, stretching his lips over his teeth.

Oh fuck.

“Like, everybody?” you ask, hopeful that he will say just him and Josh.

“Yeah. Like, everybody.”

—

“If you want to dump that ice outside, I will throw these last few drinks into the cooler,” Paul says, motioning towards the table.

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, knowing it would be minutes until the guys came bounding into the greenroom for their post show drink. You grab the bucket and walk through the bustling hallways, tossing the ice into the bathroom sink to melt. As you make your way back to the green room you find that it is now occupied with the four sweaty men.

Your eyes immediately catch Jake’s who looks like he is on the tail end of a nasty little spat with Isla. Honestly, you would rather see that than them loving on each other. At least the palpable hostility in the room corroborates the things he told you last night. You wanted to believe him. You really did, but seeing Isla holding his hand this morning really had you second guessing everything.

“That everything?” Paul asks, snapping your attention away.

“Oh, um yes. I think so. Should be all set for tomorrow,” you answer with a nod.

“Good work, Y/N. Enjoy your evening,” he says, patting your shoulder and exiting the room.

You lean awkwardly on the table as you try to keep to yourself. Josh speaks up, grabbing everyone's attention.

“What are we thinking? We want to go out tonight?” he asks, looking at each of you. No one jumps at the idea, still very unsure of the dynamic of the group now that Isla had joined.

“No, Danny and I are gonna go back to the room,” she grins, turning to look at Isla. You immediately realize that the two of them have again conspired to run the show tonight.

“I could use a drink,” Jake says.

“Noooo, baby, I’m tired, let’s go back to the room,” Isla interjects, pulling on his arm. Its very obvious to you that she is going to do everything in her power to get him alone and all to herself.

“I’m in as long as they have Tequila,” Jake adds, clearly ignoring her pleads.

“Jake no, lets just stay in. I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she whines.

“Yeah, because I didn’t invite you here, Isla! Do you need me to lay out the definition of a break again?” he says, slinging her arm off of his with a mumbled curse.

Isla storms out of the room, brushing past you in a huff. You raise your eyebrows as you look at Ty, who is doing his best to stifle down a laugh.

With everyone's eyes on Jake he shakes his head and rushes out the door after her. Josh is not too far behind him, ready to play referee.

“Well, that’s my cue to grab the van!” Sam shouts, trying to break the awkward tension. You bite your lips together, trying not to laugh at how awkward everything is. Sam and Lyla quickly exit the green room with Mia and Danny at their side. Just you and Ty remain in the room, both of you busting out in laughter as the door slams shut.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, gasping for air. “That was good.”

“This is all so awkward, Ty. I can’t do this,” you groan.

“No, it’s just getting good,” he says, standing up to walk over to you. “You got your stuff? You ready to go?”

You look around the room, spotting Jake’s backpack still laying on the floor and you wonder if you should grab it. Seconds later, Isla is rushing through the door, snatching her purse from the couch and grabbing Jake’s bag from the floor.

She tosses the black backpack over her shoulder, cutting her eyes at you and Ty, “Oh, and just by the way, I would replace that bottle of wine if I were you. He’s going to be mad when he finds out you broke it.”

You recoil at her audacity, turning to look at Ty who is just as shocked as you are. She storms out the door before you can respond and you shake your head, fully understanding why Jake is desperate to be done with her in the first place.

—

The ride back to the hotel was pin drop silent. No one daring to utter a single syllable. Jake refused to sit by Isla, instead opting to sit with Ty and Josh, leaving you with Daniel and Mia. You all file out of the van in a hurry, making your way to the elevators and to your respective rooms without another word. You watched as Jake stepped out of the elevator with Isla, turning over his shoulder to meet your eyes for a matter of a second before the doors closed again.

Your blood was boiling after your encounter with Isla, the rage rippling through your body like a freight train. You knew there was only one way to get it out, so as you stepped into your room you stripped out of your work clothes and threw on some workout clothes, quickly making your way back downstairs to the hotel gym.

A run would help. A run always helps.

As you step inside you find it empty, but that isn’t a huge shock since it is nearly midnight. You turn the lights on and make your way to the treadmill, putting in your airpods and turning on a metal playlist. Your legs start to move, starting a slow jog. You work your way up to a sprint, letting the music in your ears push you to run faster.

You run your aggression out, every step causing you to feel lighter and lighter. Just as you hit the down arrow to slow down the track you hear a ding in your ear as Siri alerts you of a new text from Ruth.

Ruth

12:14AM: Hello? Updates? I can’t sleep

You slow to a walk, deciding there is really no better time to update her on the situation. You decide to send her voice memos instead of calling her, needing to get your rambling out uninterrupted.

Your heart is pounding with adrenaline as you recount every detail of the last twenty four hours in what has to be ten voice memos. You can feel the sweat dripping down the side of your neck as your body tries to cool itself down.

You hit the record button again, giving one last quip before leaving her to listen, “And one more thing. If that nasty little stuck up bitch says one more thing to me about her boyfriend I think I might kill them both. She is the reason the wine bottle shattered in the first place. I was just doing my damn job. Of course he marched right upstairs with her tonight, didn’t even try to say anything to me the entire night. So much for ‘give me ten minutes’ or whatever the hell he said. Okay, end rant,” you say, hitting the button and watching it deliver.

You huff as you slow the treadmill to a stop, stepping off and grabbing a towel to wipe your face. As you turn around you pull your Airpods out, and see Jake, leaning against the door with a solemn look on his face.

“Holy fuck, Jake!” you say, grabbing at your chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He holds his hands up, “Sorry, I just got in here. Had the same idea as you, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you seethe, snapping your Airpods into the case. You grab for your bag, trying to make it out of the gym as quickly as possible but of course, he stops you.

“Y/N, please,” he begs, lifting a hand towards you.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with your girlfriend?” you bark.

He shakes his head gently, “No, I told her I needed a minute and I wanted to be alone. And stop with the girlfriend thing, I told you she isn’t.”

You recoil back, “Really? Could have fooled me.”

“I heard what you said to Ruth.”

“You what!?” you shout, “You were listening to me?!”

“I mean, the last part, yeah. I didn’t hear everything, but you are right. You should be mad at me. I deserve it,” he says, nodding his head.

Your blood is boiling beneath your skin, “That was private, Jake. You should have stepped out. I thought I was alone.”

“I know, I just– I’m sorry. I just needed to hear you say it. Now I have,” he pauses. “I’d really like it if you’d let me explain everything. I can explain all of it, I swear.

“It’s self explanatory, Jake. You lied to me. You said all that shit only for her to turn up this morning.”

“But I didn’t lie. Everything was true, Y/N. It was Mia an-and Lyla, they did this. Planned all of it. I had no idea. She just showed up at my door last night after we talked. I had no clue, you have to believe me.”

You do believe him. You don’t want to, but you do. You can see it written all over his face.

“I– I can’t do this Jake. It’s late, I’m exhausted. This is just…I can’t do the lies and the games. I feel like shit for causing these issues between you two. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, that’s never what I wanted. That’s not who I am.”

“You didn’t homewreck anything, Y/N! It was already wrecked before I ever even met you! You were rebuilding me! I was finally happy for the first time in–fuck. I wish I could show you, even barely explain what you have done for me, but I can’t because everything is just so fucked up now. Please, just know, I don’t want her. Haven’t for a long time,” he shouts.

“So what then, Jake? What do you want?”

“You know the answer to that. You have to know. I know you know,” he says, his voice softening. The look in his eyes is pleading with you even harder than his words are, and you can feel the sincerity coming off of him in waves.

Your heart aches at his words. You can feel that he is being genuine but there is still that shred of doubt clouding your mind. Part of you wants to stay, hear him out, let him explain everything. But the other part of you knows there is no use when at the end of the night he will be in bed with her.

“I’m sorry, Jake, I can’t…”

You brush past him and push through the door, hearing the heavy wood slam behind you.

—

JAKE POV

Fuck this. Fuck this fuck this fuck this.

What in the hell are you gonna do now?

There’s no right answer. No matter what decision you make, it’s going to be the wrong one. And it’s going to hurt someone else, whether you want it to or not.

You pull your hair back and throw it into a bun and grab a towel from the shelf in the corner, cupping it around your neck. You pull your tangled earphones from your pocket, getting aggravated as you try to pull them apart. You know that if Y/N was still around, she’d have them untangled and wrapped neatly for you, waiting in your bag for the next time you want to use them.

Fuck, you miss her. Her yelling in your face just now was the most you’ve spoken in days, and even though she was mad and disappointed and calling you every name in the book, somewhere deep, deep down, it felt good to be in her presence again. God, you need to get your shit together.

You step onto the treadmill as you feel the belt pick up speed beneath you, your feet keeping up with the traction of the increasing momentum. Your finger keeps hitting the button, keeps letting it climb and climb until it’s almost maxed out. You need to sprint so fast that your legs give out… you need to hear your heart beating in your ears for another reason other than getting too exhausted on stage. Physical exertion has always been one of your secret kryptonites, pushing your body to the point of no return to get your anger out. And most of the time, it truly worked.

Anything to keep you from going back to the room and screaming at Isla.

Once you feel like your body simply couldn’t handle another step, you slow the treadmill, cooling down with a brisk walk as you run the towel over your face. Have you seriously fucked everything up? Is anything ever going to get better? Or are you going to be stuck with Isla for the rest of your life?

After a few centering breaths and some self-slaps in the face, you get yourself together and make your way back up to your hotel room, wanting nothing more than to chug a bottle of water, and follow it up with another strong tequila. A hard buzz to get you through the night, then claim exhaustion to avoid talking to Isla any more than necessary.

As the elevator ascends and your body falls into that tranquil state of peace you get after a good workout, you realize that you’re going to have to share a bed with her. A queen sized bed. Fuck. Me.

Your limp legs carry you to your room and you inhale a sharp breath as you unlock the door, letting yourself into the room.

“Heyyyy baby…” Isla wails from the bed, stark naked with a bottle of champagne in her hand. “What took you so long?”

You drop your bag to the floor as the image before you stops you in your tracks. “I was working out, Isla,” you answer flatly.

“C’mon, come get in bed…” she slurs, and you can tell she’s already been working on the champagne. “Let’s celebrate our anniversary like we used to.”

You couldn’t feel more disconnected from her, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from her as possible, right now. You even contemplate pulling out the couch bed.

“Mmm, no. I’m getting in the shower, then I’m going to bed. I’m really tired,” you say, grabbing clothes from your bag, and an airplane bottle from the mini bar.

You hear her groan from behind you as her lips pop off the bottle of champagne. “Want me to join you?” she asks, her voice rising a few octaves.

“NO! No, I won’t be long, just… stay there.” You pull the bathroom door closed and quietly lock the latch, knowing that she is the type to sneak in even after you’d told her not to. Just months ago, you’d have given anything for her to join you in the shower. Hell, join you on tour. But now, the thought of her impeding in your space like this nearly makes you sick.

“Ugh, okay. I’ll be here waiting,” you hear her call through the door.

You tip the tequila back in one quick swallow and shower quickly, rinsing off the sweat of the day and the stench of your guilt, feeling more shitty than you’ve felt in a really, really long time. You want to talk to Josh. You need to hear his level-headed opinion on this matter, and honestly, you need Ty’s, too. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to them. Hopefully.

You step out of the shower and dry off, thanking yourself for remembering to grab a t-shirt and shorts to avoid having to walk in front of Isla half-clothed.

You flick the bathroom light off and find Isla in the same position she was in, watching some old 80’s crime rerun on TV. You plug your phone in and slide into the bed beside her, being sure to turn your back to her as you fluff the pillow beneath your head. Surprisingly, you aren’t really that tired, but you’ll be damned if you are going to stay awake a minute longer than you need to to endure this night.

You pretend to start to fall asleep, letting your body succumb to the comfort of the bed and puffy sheets. Your limbs relax as the exhaustion actually does set in, letting you know that maybe you aren’t as far from sleep as you think you are. Your eyes begin to play the beginning images of a dream, your body jerking a little as it relaxes. Suddenly, just as you’re about to drift off peacefully, you feel a hand run across your back, up underneath your shirt.

Ugh, Isla, please stop…

Her hand drifts up to your shoulder, squeezing the muscle and gritting the pad of her thumb up underneath your shoulder blade, massaging your tight back muscles. You’re letting yourself enjoy the sensation, picturing Y/N’s hands all over you just like they used to be, soft but strong in all the right places. It feels good, it feels really good. You have only had the hands of your hired massage therapists on your back for the past few days, so to feel the light touch of someone else’s hand is a welcome change.

“Shit baby, you’re tense…” Isla mumbles, making you wake up from your half-asleep state, sending all your dreams of Y/N straight down the drain.

“Isla, please…” you warn with a stern voice.

“Please what, baby? I miss you…” she sings, bringing her body to press up against your back. “Came all the way here to see you, visit you on our anniversary…”

Though your eyes are closed, you roll them, taking in a deep and cleansing breath as you prepare yourself to argue, yet again.

“Isla, today is just another day on my calendar. Can you please drop the anniversary shit? Do you not understand that I can’t do this with you anymore? I don’t want this–”

“So what, you gonna kick me out?” she slurs, and you can hear the drunkenness in her voice now. “Make me get another room? Or you gonna come take care of me the way I know you want to…”

For a split second, you think about it. You really think about it. Through the exhaustion in your bones and the tiredness of your muscles, your male brain contemplates it for a split second. Your dick throbs at the thought of it, no emotion involved, just straight meaningless sex. You could really fucking use it.

“I know you miss me Jake, I can feel it. See it when you look at me. I know you think about fucking me just as often as I think about it with you… I’m not naive.”

Giving in to her and giving her what she wants is an option that will get her to shut up, but it will also dig the hole you’re already in deeper than you can dig yourself out of, and that’s not a headache that you need right now.

No matter how good she looks under the covers…

No matter how good her hands felt on your skin, or how badly you could really use a good romp, right now.

Ugh, should you just get it over with? It would probably only take a second, at this point…

“No, please, just go the fuck to sleep,” you stay strong.

You pull your body away from her a bit, scooting further away and out of her reach. You hear her scoff as she rolls to her back, pulling the covers up over her chest. “Ya know, you aren’t the same person anymore, Jake. Remember when I told you you’d fucking changed? Well it’s true. It’s never been more true,” she barks. “You used to have the biggest heart, used to want me more than anything, love me more than anything. Now you’re just a grouchy son of a bitch. I can’t believe anyone can even stand to be around you anymore.”

Her words don’t even hurt you, anymore. They used to cut you like a knife. And though they make you feel like shit, you know they aren’t true. You might be a grouchy son of a bitch, but you know that your brothers and your friends still love you. She’s using anything she can to get under your skin, right now.

She’s the one who fucking changed.

“Ok Isla, thanks. Now let me go to sleep,” you beg, letting her words roll right off of your thickened skin.

Things fall quiet again but for just a second as Isla turns the volume up on the TV just a few notches, just enough to piss you off.

“Can you turn that back down, please?” you bellow, to which she responds with silence. The TV stays at an unreasonable volume as you try to tune it out, but you fall short. Your gut is boiling up with rage at her inconsideration.

“Isla! Hello? I’m trying to sleep! Do I need to go stay in Josh’s room or–”

“Damn Jake, chill, it isn’t even that loud…” she complains as she grabs the remote, switching the TV off completely. For some reason, that just pisses you off even more.

“Isla, listen to me. Why did you come here?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose as you sit up in bed.

“...Because, we’ve always spent this week together, it’s special, I thought you’d be excited to see me after we’ve been on this break…” she squeaks.

“Do you not remember everything I said before I left? Seriously? That I didn’t want any contact from you, I needed to sort shit out, I needed you to find somewhere else to go… why is none of it clicking with you? I’m so confused,” you spurt, the words tripping over themselves.

“I don’t understand why you aren’t respecting my wishes. I don’t understand why you showed up here unannounced,” you go on. “I don’t understand how I could put things more clearly, that I don’t want this anymore. I’m tired of having this same fucking conversation over and over and it never means anything to you.” You speak like a teacher to his young students, clearly and slowly, now, so that it might help her to understand. But it won’t. She never gets it.

The room is dark and bleak, only the pale gleam of the street lights poking through the windows and the heat blowing through the vent in the corner fill the empty space between you. “All I want is space, and you can’t even give me that. No matter how far away I run.” The words hurt to choke out as you begin to feel a little sorry for yourself. This shit with her is beginning to wear you down, tearing away at your self-worth even though you act like it isn’t.

“I thought… I thought you might have just wanted a couple of weeks to think about things, time to miss me, ya know?” she says, obviously completely forgetting about the countless arguments you’d had on the phone since tour began. She’s obviously gaslighting you yet again.

“Mia and Lyla said you seemed distracted lately, just unhappy and not yourself,” she says.

“See, that’s not true, Isla. If anything, I’ve been happier. More free to do whatever I please,” and you know that is a stone cold fact.

“It just… ugh it feels so fucking wrong and stupid to be home, in your home, cleaning and taking care of things and making sure the bills are paid and that things are working while you’re gone… until I found somewhere else to go, Jake. I don’t have anywhere to go!” she yells, sitting up to face you. “I’ve relied on you for years, and you expect me to just pick up and find somewhere in a week? Be for fucking real. You didn’t even give me time to look for somewhere before you decided to kick me out!”

“That’s not fucking true, Isla! I discussed this with you countless fucking times before I left! But it’s like it went in one ear, and straight out the other! I know what you’re doing, you’re using me. I understand. I get it, I’m doing well for myself and you don’t want to lose that. That’s all this is. That’s all you’ve come to care about! You don’t care about me anymore! Just your fucking status,” your chest is heaving, your heart beating from it as you let it all out again, the same goddamed thing you always say, hoping, praying, that one day it will catch on in her mind.

“I just wanted to be close to you again,” she pouts, completely ignoring the actual meat of the details of what you’re actually concerned with, dancing around the actual issues yet again. “Plus they said you’d gotten really close with that other girl and I–”

“Oh! Ohhhh, so that’s what this is about? What else did they say, huh?”

Isla pulls the sheets up over her lap as she reclines back onto the bed. “Ugh, nothing,” she tries to blow it off, sending a whole new wave of rage straight through you.

“No, tell me. I want to know what everyone is saying about MY life behind my back when I told you I wanted privacy.” Your fist pounds against your chest. “Please, enlighten me,” you spit, the venom in your voice like gasoline catching fire. This could be it, this could be when you let your secret be known, and fuck, could it backfire. But you’re so blinded with fury that you don’t really even fucking care at this point.

“They told me they think you’re sleeping with her, okay?” she yells, and you know things are about to go south, and quickly.

“Hah,” you breathe. “So that’s the whole reason you came over here, to check up on me after I told you I don’t want to even be with you anymore. That’s fucking disgusting Isla,” you growl, your teeth gritting against each other. “We’re grown fucking adults.”

“So are you?” she challenges, her tone reminding you of a girlfriend you would have had in the ninth grade.

“What?”

“Are you sleeping with her?!” her voice cracks as she yells at you.

You’re so horribly offended you can hardly see straight, and all your extremities feel numb. “That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it fucking is, Jake! I live in your home!” she retorts, her hands flying in the air, now. The voice of your twin reverberates in the back of your mind, and though you’ll never admit it to him, he was absolutely and completely right. It’s all blowing up in your face.

You’re so fucking sick of this. You’re so fucking tired of it all. Your life doesn’t feel like it’s your own anymore, and when you do return home, it will most definitely feel like anything but. It’s time you stand your ground.

“You know what Isla? Yes, yes we were. You happy?” you say, the words flowing a little more freely than you’d thought they would. But, they also make the hole in your heart a little bigger, seeing as how now, you might truly never get Y/N back. Your voice falls a little with your next admission. “She made me fucking happy.”

Isla inhales through her nose, the realization hitting her as she tries to catch her breath. She doesn’t say anything for a good few seconds as you let her process, and you hear a few tiny sobs leave her chest. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, Jacob…” she breathes, her words no more than a whisper. “So you…you cheated on me…”

What did she fucking expect, really?

You grit your jaw and stiffen your muscles as you hold back. “How is it cheating when I told you I didn’t want to be with you anymore, for months, begged you to leave, told you I was finished. Beyond finished. How is that cheating?”

Convincing yourself of that has been the hardest part. There is no rule book for this shit. The whole situation is so sticky. So messy, tossed around and disorganized like you’ve never seen before. Nothing is right, nothing is wrong. Your morals are out the window, your decision-making skills are shot. You’re exhausted. You’re mad. You’re heartbroken.

But she doesn’t answer your question.

No more conversation is held between the two of you for the rest of the night, and you lie back on your pillow and listen to the sounds of her crying, her chest catching with violent sobs that she tries to hide from you. You can’t see her, but you know what her face must look like. Red and splotched with heavy wet tears, her cheeks flushed and pink as she realizes how real her suspicions were. You can’t stand to hear her crying, it was always your biggest weakness when it came to her, aside from her ability to lure you back into bed, of course.

You feel sorry for her. You can’t help it. The old her is buried down underneath there, somewhere, deep underneath this new persona, underneath the brand new person that you hardly even know anymore. She’s got to still be there, the girl you fell in love with. The honest and sincere and forgiving one. She’s still got to be somewhere in there, right?

Old habits die hard, especially for a person you once held so close to your heart. You hate being the reason she can hardly catch her breath right now. You hate being under the covers with her in the same bed in a foreign country, with nothing but a pillow separating the two of you as her cries fill the quiet of the room. You know it’s wrong, you know it’s the worst thing you could probably do, but your human emotion overtakes your decision making skills, and you place a hand on her arm, feeling her goosebump-covered skin under your touch.

“‘M sorry, Isla. I really am,” you whisper, squeezing your hand on her just a little. “Can you please stop crying?”

“My whole life is fucking falling apart, Jake. No, I don’t think I will stop crying,” she says, completely unaware that she is half the reason your lives together started to fall apart in the first place. You know she has got some serious over committal issues, that much is true. But it doesn’t stop the fact that the other half of that life-ruining moment is happening by your hand. The last thing you want is to be the reason someone is unhappy at all.

Reality sets in as you release your hold on her cold arm, rolling to your back to stare at the popcorned ceiling. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the sound of her cries, reminding yourself over and over that honesty is the best policy, and you need to be the one who takes care of yourself.

Instead, you think about tomorrow. You’re going to try and make the day tolerable, no matter what it takes. You’re going to see the Black Keys with your brothers, and you’re going to enjoy yourself.

Maybe Mia and Lyla will take care of their grieving best friend, keeping her far, far away from you. Maybe Josh will notice and intervene. Maybe.

7:00 is going to come early, and you roll to make sure your alarm is set to wake you, knowing that the bus ride to Glasgow is going to be anything but enjoyable.

Sleep will be anything but peaceful tonight.

—

HER POV

Your alarm wakes you far too early, your muscles sore and tired from the overexertion of running last night. You feel refreshed, knowing that you only have to get on the bus this morning then you will be on your way to the concert with Murph. You still hadn’t decided on what to wear, but you knew it had to be good. Like really good.

You roll over to grab your phone, seeing that Murph had already texted you this morning but also seeing that sometime in the early morning hours Jake added a song to the playlist. Your mind struggles with which notification to open first, your brain telling you to open Murph’s text, but your heart pulling for you to see what Jake added.

Against your better judgment you swipe open the playlist notification, watching the songs populate in the playlist. As you scroll to the bottom you let out a sigh seeing his addition of ‘Don’t Wanna Fight’ by Alabama Shakes.

You tap the song, letting the opening notes play through your phone as you swipe out of it and open your texts.

Murph

6:47AM: Good morning, hope you slept well.

6:48AM: When we get to Glasgow and get settled I’ll send you more concrete details for tonight, just have a few things to secure first. Can’t wait. 😎

You

7:05AM: I can’t wait either, looking forward to it! 🎹

You toss your phone on the nightstand and pull yourself out of bed, quickly dressing and packing up your suitcase to meet everyone in the lobby. To say you’re dreading it is an understatement, and you know that the three hour bus ride into Glasgow is going to be anything but pleasant.

Thankfully you were able to secure a seat near the back of the bus, leaving Jake, Isla and the rest of the crew towards the front. You can see Murph’s head peeking over the top of the seat, his eyes finding you just as the bus pulls out into traffic.

You

8:02AM: Cool kids sit at the back of the bus

Murph

8:03AM: Someone has to watch the children

You

8:04AM: I’ll just be back here thinking about tonight, then…

Murph

8:05AM: Hasn’t left my mind all morning 😉

Your heart flutters as you see him turn around and wink at you, your cheek growing red with lust. You spend much of the three hour ride deciding what to wear and how you wanted to do your hair for the show, simultaneously listening to the new Keys album.

It’s not long before you’re rolling your suitcase over the threshold of your new hotel room, flopping down on the oversized bed with a sigh of relief. The bus ride was uneventful, just as you’d hoped it would be.

You open the facetime app and tap Ruth’s name, knowing she needs a rundown and that you need her help deciding on an outfit. As the call connects you see her in her bathroom, towel on her head as she does her skincare routine.

“Hello…” she answers, a mumble as her mouth contorts into an ‘O”.

“Ruth, code red I need you to help me pick an outfit for tonight,” you groan.

“What’s tonight?” she asks, peeking an eye open to look at you.

“The Black Keys show with Murph!” you shout, “Do you even listen to my voice memos anymore?!”

“Yeah, all fifty of them,” she snickers, “What are the options?”

“Well, anything really, but it has to be hot because I’m trying to get laid.”

“Oh, yeah sure, not because Jake and Miss Congeniality are going to be there too, right?” she taunts.

“No,” you lie. Of course you want to make him jealous.

“What is Muscles McFly wearing?” she asks.

“Well, if I had to guess, jeans and a t-shirt. Kind of his signature look,” you laugh.

“Okay, and you’re tryna smash, right?”

“I mean, yeah, hopefully,” you blush.

“Okay, mini skirt. Boob top. Lip gloss. Never fails.”

“The fuck is a boob top?” you laugh.

“Something that makes your tits look good, idiot,” she barks.

“Oh yeah, because I packed so many of those for freezing cold Europe,” you add.

“Well, just do your best, but definitely the skirt. And don’t even say you don’t have one because I slipped mine in your suitcase for this exact purpose.”

“Ruthie…” you groan.

“Thank me tomorrow when you can’t walk,” she smiles, winking at you as she ends the call.

You laugh and toss your phone onto the bed, opting for a quick nap before you have to get ready for the show.

—

Murph

4:57PM: Meet you in the lobby in fifteen to pick you up?

You

4:59PM: Pick me up?

Murph

5:01PM: Might have got another truck

You

5:02PM: Of course you did. See you in a few. 😙

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, deciding that yeah, maybe Ruth was right about the boob shirt. You looked good, better than good. You knew Murph was going to love it, and Jake was going to hate every second of seeing you in it with someone that isn’t him.

You slip on your boots and swipe on your lip gloss, grabbing your bag and making your way downstairs to the lobby. As you step outside the glass doors you see Murph leaning up against the hood of a truck, arms crossed across his chest. His muscles are defined beneath his t-shirt, his hat turned backwards as he eyes you up and down.

“My, my, well don’t you look gorgeous,” he smiles.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, handsome,” you flirt. You see his smile grow as he pushes off the truck and moves to open the door for you. You can smell his cologne wafting off of him, dark and masculine. It’s intoxicating, and you stop yourself from breathing in too much.

You jump up into the truck, letting him shut the door behind you. He makes his way around to the other side, getting in next to you and starting the engine. “You ready?”

“More than,” you grin, crossing your legs.

“Me too,” he smiles, pulling out onto the busy street.

“How do you always manage to get your own vehicles in every place we go?” you laugh, turning to look at him.

“Some say I’m a magic man,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

“I like the sound of that,” you answer, rubbing your glossed lips together.

“You smell amazing,” he says, almost as if he’d been dying to say it.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah, like, very very fucking good,” he admits.

“Well, it’s pheromones. It reacts differently on everyone’s skin, and it smells different to everyone who smells it. It’s supposed to help you attract people,” you smile.

“Not to be too forward, but it’s making me want to fucking devour you,” he confesses through a grin.

Your chest swells with lust as his words sink in, and in that moment you briefly consider skipping the concert so he can do just that. His phone rings, breaking your conversation. He holds his phone to his ear as he answers.

“Murph,” he says.

“Yeah, we are about ten minutes out. Tell them I will meet them at the artist entrance and walk them in the side doors,” he continues. “Sounds good, see you then.”

Your brow furrows as you try to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. He ends the call and turns to look at you with a sneaky look on his face.

“Who are we meeting?” you ask nervously.

“Well, as much as I would like to have you to myself tonight, it’s a bit of a family trip. Gotta walk the crew in then I’m all yours once Paul and Dean show up.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. That’s no problem. I mean, it’s your job and all,” you grin, feeling his hand slide over to rest on your bare thigh.

“You’re sweet, you know?”

You shrug your shoulders and blush, wondering if you’d ever received such a genuine compliment.

The rest of the car ride is spent listening to music and soaking in the feeling of his warm protective hand on your leg. He pulls into the parking lot and pulls into a space, smiling as he puts the car in park.

“Oh, that reminds me, there is actually one more thing I forgot to tell you,” he grins.

“Oh, gosh, what?” you ask nervously.

He reaches into the backseat and pulls out two lanyards with laminated badges reading Backstage - All Access.

“Ezra,” you gasp. “How–”

“Surprise, baby,” he smiles, placing the black lanyard over your head. He pulls your hair over the strap, letting it fall back over your shoulders.

“How did you– Please tell me how you managed to get backstage passes?! Like, this is almost impossible, I’ve tried,” you huff into the air as you and Murph jump out of the truck and high-step it into the venue, following behind the hoards of people who are also running late for the show.

He steps sideways, wrapping his strong arm around your neck as he pulls you into him for just a few seconds as if you’re his kid sister.

“I think you need to stop asking questions and just trust that I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever met,” he boasts into your ear, kissing the side of your head quickly before releasing your neck and pushing you away again.

You scoff at him through your teeth, your heart doing backflips at his gesture. “I don’t know about the coolest…maybe the most annoying, though…” you tease, shooting him a wink.

You both skip every other step as you rush up the concrete stairs to the venue doors, already hearing the loud crashing music of the openers. You’d seen the Black Keys twice before, the last time being almost five years ago, now. But since then they've put out so much more music. Since then you’d fallen so much more in love with them. And since then, you’d met Murph. Who just kissed the side of your head, and is taking you backstage.

“Am I really annoying?” he asks, letting you step ahead of him to go through the metal detectors at the entrance. His look had turned from playful to genuinely concerned, and you halfway wonder if he actually believed your statement.

“No! Crazy, you’re not annoying in the least,” you smile, picking your purse back up from the container as he follows you through it. “You’re amazing.”

His eyes are already scanning around, and you can tell that he’s not used to being on this side of these kinds of events. “Fuck, good. Last thing I wanna do is get on your nerves.”

The two of you dash and wind through the crowds, and you know that he’s searching for the guys. He is semi off the clock tonight, but watching out for them has already become ingrained in his mind…more than a job, and more of a duty.

“Danny said they’d be over this way, come on!” He shouts toward you, and you wonder how on earth, and why on earth they decided to be part of the general admission pit when they share fans with half of the Keys’ fandom. Seems a bit…unsafe, but, whatever.

Murph takes your hand in his as you push through the thickening crowd, sweetly intertwining his fingers with yours. He feels strong and steadfast, people basically stepping aside for him as you trail behind. You watch as he nods quick ‘thank you’s’ to each person that lets you through. Such a gentleman.

He squeezes your hand every few seconds, silently asking if you’re okay back there. You return the squeeze, his oversized, calloused palms gently scratching against your soft hands. You wonder what they’d feel like touching you in other places…

“Murph! Hey man!” You hear Danny’s voice beckon, and you see his curls sitting on his head, taller than everyone else. Murph turns back to look at you, pulling you to the right a little as he leads you toward the group.

Your stomach sinks when you see Jake, dressed in all black with his hair pulled back in a low bun, his blue-tinted sunglasses sitting on his nose. His tongue sucks into his cheek as he gives you an up-down, noticing first how your hand is tightly clasped in Murph’s. You can see his chest rise with a sarcastic laugh as he continues to wrap his arm around Isla’s waist, swigging beer from the plastic cup in his other hand.

Fucking asshole. You know he’s just being touchy to get under your skin.

You stand awkwardly as you watch Danny turn to look at the two of you, giving you a questioning look as he contorts his face up as if to say, ‘Murph, what have you got here, attached to your side?’

Murph reads his expression, leaning in close to whisper in Danny’s ear. Danny responds with a satisfied and agreeing head nod, giving him a quick fist bump as he looks back at Jake, but only for a second. Danny bites the edge of his beer cup between his front two teeth as he turns back to the stage, giving you a quick wink before he wraps his arm around Mia.

Fuck, what did Murph say?

“Y/N, they’re in like, a roped-off type area. We can stand beside them but I can’t get us over there,” Murph yells into your ear.

You bite your lips in and give him a pitiful look, standing on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his ear. “…But we have backstage passes, and they don’t. Who are the real winners here?”

As you pull back, you’re met with his hundred-watt smile, sending butterflies all through your stomach. God, he is so…

You both know you’re lying to yourselves, the guys have met them before and probably even had conversations with them. But it was fun to pretend for just a little while that you were the famous ones, ready to flash your badges at whoever asks to see them.

“You’re so right,” he rolls his eyes, motioning to the guys behind them like they were beneath you. “You wanna watch the show from here, or go watch from the side-stage? My buddy is back there working tonight, said we could come say hi…”

“Oh, so it’s a buddy that got you these passes, huh?” you tease, letting your other hand join in with the other, squeezing into his rough hands. Your eyes drift over to the guys again, and you see Ty motion for you to come and stand with them. But you pretend like you didn’t see him. You pretend that the guy that’s had you secretly crying every night for the past couple weeks wasn’t standing there with his beautiful girlfriend, pulling her into him as they ignored everyone else around them.

“Let’s go up there,” you make the executive decision, which Murph seems completely alright with.

“Yes ma’am,” he responds, turning to give one last word to Danny and Sam, and to Dean and Monty before taking off toward the staircase to head backstage. The sky is growing dark with clouds, and you wonder if it is going to rain on you.

You spend much of the show watching from side stage, dancing along to every song and singing at the top of your lungs. You’re pretty sure Murph didn’t realize how big of a fan you were when you didn’t miss a single lyric. A few times you caught him staring at you in awe, taking in the sight of you as you enjoyed every single second of the show.

He could hardly keep his hands off of you, circling your waist or holding onto your hips as you danced. It felt good. He felt safe. He sang along to the slower songs, his lips only inches from your ear as his deep voice ran shivers up your spine. Your eyes peered out into the crowd, and you saw him. Jake’s eyes locked on you as you were wrapped in Murph’s arms singing the words to ‘She’s Long Gone’. It felt a bit ironic, truthfully, because in a way you were. Or atleast, you wanted to be.

You let your eyes meet his as you mouth the words, his jaw hardening and his lips growing thin as he sipped from his beer. He was mad, maybe even jealous, probably both. You tried not to pay attention, looking up to see Murph standing behind you. His eyes met yours as he kissed the top of your head, sending a flutter of butterflies into your stomach.

You look over again to see him on his phone, feeling a buzz in your purse almost immediately. You pull your phone from your purse just enough to read his message.

Jake

9:16PM: What the fuck are you doing right now Y/N

You make eye contact with him as you shove the phone back into your purse and purposefully spin around in Murph’s arms to face him. He knows exactly what you’re doing. He’s watching your every move instead of his girlfriend right next to him. Let him watch. Let him feel how you felt.

It’s at that moment the guy next to you stumbles backwards, spilling his entire beer all over you.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps, “I’m so sorry.”

Murph immediately grows stiff behind you, “Hey man, watch yourself.”

“My bad dude,” he growls.

“Yeah, it was your bad. Watch yourself next time,” he snaps.

You turn to Murph and give him a reassuring nod, “It’s okay, let me just go to the bathroom and clean up real quick,” you say.

“I’ll go with you,” he answers, a crackle of thunder rumbling in the distance.

“No, no. You stay here. Don’t lose our spot. I will be right back, promise.”

“Alright, don’t be long or I’ll come looking for you,” he smiles, squeezing your arm.

You make your way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning off the spilled beer and freshening up your makeup. You can hear them starting the encore, just as you step out into the crowd. You see the man that spilled his beer on you approaching you with a smug look on his face.

“Hey, sorry about that sweetheart. Let me make it up to you? Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.

“Um, no. I need to get back to my date, actually,” you answer.

“That brute?” he asks in his thick accent.

“Yeah. That brute,” you scoff.

His hand reaches for you as you walk away, grabbing your arm and pulling you back towards him. You see him go flying across the crowd as Murph pushes him off of you, pulling you behind him in a matter of a second.

“No one ever teach you not to grab a lady?” he says, spitting venom at the man. “I think you should go.”

“Go where?” she spits.

“Somewhere,” Murph says, and you can feel the fury pouring off of him. “Would be in your best interest to get far fucking away from me, sir. And as quickly as possible.”

He looks Murph up and down, quickly realizing he is no match for him. Not in this lifetime at least. The man mumbles something in a different language and walks in the other direction, admitting defeat.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Murph, I didn’t think he would follow me,” you whine.

“Not your fault, baby. Let’s go, yeah? Encore is almost over.”

“Okay, yeah. Hey, thanks for that,” you say, linking your fingers with his. He immediately softens, the tension releasing from his demeanor.

“Of course, wish I could have been there the first time,” he grins.

“Yeah, me too,” you say, thinking of Jake coming to your rescue, and if you truly meant that.

“Just gotta find the guys and then we can go,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. Another crack of thunder lights up the sky, and you know it's about to pour.

“I’m with you,” you smile, following happily at his side as the rain finally does start to fall around you.

—

JAKE POV

“You guys all good? Everyone here and accounted for?” Murph asks as he stands just outside of the awning of the back exit of the venue.

“We’re fine, you can go,” you bark under your breath, earning yourself a slight of Murph’s eyes. Y/N is standing beside him, his soaked leather jacket draped over her head as she watches him do his job. She’s not complaining, she doesn’t seem bothered by the cold, pouring rain at all. She actually looks…

He’s soaking wet, completely unbothered by the rain soaking through his shirt, too. Does this guy feel anything? Ever? Fucking man’s man.

As you slip through the back private door exit into the pouring rain behind them, you can’t help but feel overwhelmingly defeated. Defeated, and also so fucking envious that you know that your eyes are turning green. You can feel Isla’s finger slip through your back belt loop, following behind you as she shields herself from the blowing rain. You make little to no effort to hold her hand, or offer her your jacket, because frankly, you just don’t fucking think to.

All you can think of is seeing her hand in Murph’s, the genuine smile on her face as he pulled her toward backstage, and the joy in her eyes as he tossed his jacket over her head as they rushed outside. Fuck him. Fuck it. Does he even have any fucking clue that you and her–

No. He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, because if she had told him about you and her, he would not be pursuing her right now. So he’s living blindly. Great.

Your hands are almost visibly shaking as you think about what they’re probably going to do tonight, and the way you left things with her. You still crave her, want to be involved with every little detail of her life, but now… god dammit, everything is ruined. Totally and completely fucking ruined.

Josh swings the door to the van open as you let everyone else climb inside ahead of you. You feel Isla’s finger slip free finally, and you let her climb in before you, hoping that there won’t be any room left for you to sit beside her.

But of course, your luck has run all the way out, and the only seat left in the van is squished in beside Mia, Danny, and her. She pats the seat, giving you her faux- fuck me eyes. “Sit here, baby, plenty of room…”

You audibly groan, contemplating walking for just a second before a loud crack of thunder shakes the air, forcing you inside the van. As it takes off through the puddling rain, you stare out the window in an attempt to ignore Isla’s wandering hand on your knee, getting way too close for comfort.

It’s as you grip her hand in yours and pull it away that you catch sight of them, Y/N and Murph booking it down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, hand in hand as their faces are lit up with laughter. She’s smiling so big as the rain soaks her clothing, seeming to have no care in the world as they make the tight turn into the lot. Before you lose sight of them, you catch him throwing his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head. It takes everything in you to not punch the window and break every single piece of glass from it, letting it shatter and cut your hands as you yell obscenities through the air. Who the fuck does he think he is?!

You’re sick with rage, the jealousy so overwhelming you swear you might be going insane. You feel your breathing pick up and your jaw tighten, physically ill with the thought of his hands on her. Where your hands belong. You think back to last night in the gym, how she yelled at you, how she seemed so distraught, and so disappointed in how things had worked out. Your heart is deafening in your ears, your fists balled up tightly as you try to talk yourself down.

Has she forgotten all the things you said to her? All the promises you made, all the honesty you’d shown when you let your guard down? Is she really about to waste it all?

Suddenly Isla’s hand on your thigh seems a lot less like an aggravation, and a lot more like the perfect opportunity, presenting itself on a silver platter.

Suddenly a slew of evil thoughts creep into the back corners of your mind, spiteful and grating as the bitterness takes up shop in your bones like a family of snakes.

Suddenly, resentment is the only emotion you feel.

—

HER POV

Your hand is on Murph’s thigh as he zips in and out of traffic as you leave the venue. Your whole body is buzzing after watching him show his authority to that stupid drunk guy, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said your mind hadn’t already traveled to some dark places in just the few short minutes you’d been in the car.

“That guy was a fucking idiot, Y/N. I almost fucking throttled him right then and there…” he says through gritted teeth. You squeeze his leg, trying your best to calm him, or even better, get him worked up in another way.

“It was fine, he was fine…I was handling it, I’m—”

“He spilled his beer all over you, Y/N! That’s not fucking okay! Following you? Grabbing you?” he stopped there, tapping his fingers angrily on the steering wheel.

“Well, it’s a good thing your friend was the one working their security tonight, right? You don’t always have to take care of everyone all the time, ya know…” you tried to speak quietly.

“Yes I do, Y/N. I don’t know any other way. Especially when it comes to someone like you…” he goes on, his eyes never leaving the road. He’s hunched forward in his seat, the windshield wipers on full blast as they swipe the raindrops falling heavily on the windshield.

“Someone like me?” You ask, hoping that he will explain further. Your body is burning with want for him, watching as his hands white-knuckle the wheel, and his left foot taps against the floorboards. The rain is still dripping down his cheeks, the top-half of his t-shirt almost completely soaked, making the material stick to his toned arms just a little too perfectly.

You shudder under the warmth of his jacket that he threw over you as you ran out the side exit into the downpour, ready to be away from the chaos that had just ensued inside.

“Yeah, someone like you. Someone I’m determined to keep around,” he says, giving you a quick glance from the side of his eye.

Your hand squeezes tighter around his thigh, and you feel no shame in moving it just a little higher. “You want me around?” you purr, like you don’t already know how into you he is.

He takes a deep breath as you near the parking lot of your hotel, his body slowly but surely calming from his adrenaline rush. “Yeah, I want you around. I want you around really fucking bad…” his hand mirrors yours, drifting to wrap almost completely around your leg, choosing a spot much, much higher than the one where your hand rests on his.

You almost moaned at his touch, his hand warm against the bare, chilled skin of your legs. You suck in a quick breath at his show of what is obviously desperation.

“Murph…” you breathe, your voice almost choked as you rise from your seat a little more, begging him to move his hand, dig his fingers in, anything…

“What, baby? Tell me what you want…” he growls, his chest heaving a little as one hand steers the car, while the other steers you into oblivion.

You exhale hard as his grip tightens, the pads of his fingertips adding extra pressure as he slowly ascends higher and higher on your leg.

The stoplight hanging above you turns red, and you curse it, or thank it, really…for giving you a second.

“I want…I—” you can hardly form the words, and he is hardly even touching you.

When you refuse to answer him, he retreats, his hand drifting away now down toward your knee.

“No, don’t…”

He’s finally able to make eye contact with you as the light stays red. “I said tell me, Y/N. Tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you, whatever you want…” he shakes his head slowly as he talks, promising you his whole world like he doesn’t even know he’s slowly destroying yours.

“Want you to—to touch me, please, Murph. I—”

Without a word his hand climbs up again, snaking underneath your skirt to cup his palm directly over your cunt. The feeling is enough to pull a quiet whine from your chest, and you grip both armrests with haste as he presses two fingers expertly exactly where you need them.

“Fuck…” you breathe, his fingers slowly beginning to move.

The light turns green, and you slowly take off again. “This it? This what you wanted?” he asks.

You nod hard. “Mhm, yeah…” your legs fall apart a little bit on their own, your body pleading for him to have more access to you. Where the fuck is the hotel?!

You hear him breathing heavily as you know he wants nothing more than to touch you better, watch your face as his fingers move across you, already dripping wet for him.

As his fingers pull your panties to the side with one quick motion, your entire body feels like it’s about to erupt into flames. His fingers finally connect with you, skin on skin, and it’s almost too much. Your arms pick you up from your seat a little as your head hits the headrest, your mouth falling open as his middle finger connects with your clit.

“Oh my god…” you mutter, a little more loudly than earlier. Your new position allows him to dip his fingers low again, brushing against your opening and dragging your wetness through your folds. Your hand finds his arm, squeezing the muscle as you feel his tendons tighten and loosen as he works his hand expertly beneath your skirt.

You take a second to glance down, his hand completely hidden by the material of your skirt. The visual is all-encompassing as the lightning flashes another loud rumble of thunder through the air.

“God I can’t wait to park this fucking car,” Murph grits as he pulls into the private parking garage. It’s generally empty, save for a few cars here and there that look like they haven’t moved in a while. Most of the overhead lights are burnt out, leaving the garage nothing but a winding maze of shadows.

Murph whips the vehicle into a parking place against the back wall, into an area not illuminated with much light, at all. As soon as he puts it in park, he reaches underneath the seat to pull the lever, sending his chair as far back as it will go.

“Get the fuck over here,” he demands, holding up the two fingers that were just nearly inside you up, motioning for you to climb over the console.

You do as he asks, clambering over top of the center console and falling into his lap. One knee on either side of him, you press your entire body weight into him, both of you still soaked and frozen from the rain.

His hands are immediately gripping the backs of your thighs, jerking you into a position that he’s happy with as you grab his face, pressing your lips hard against his. Both of you are ripping and tearing at each other’s clothes, nails scraping and pulling across the skin of one another as your yearning finally comes to a head.

Your arms snake from his face to around his neck, your fingers catching the bill of his backwards hat, tearing it off his head and throwing it into the backseat. For the first time, you see his full head of dark, straight hair, a tousled mess, but matching the brown of his eyes perfectly.

You take his strands between the cracks of your fingers, pulling and twisting it into your grasp as he starts to make noises, now. Your tongues are fighting each other, the sweetness of the taste of him bringing you back to all the other times you’ve kissed him, but none ever this intense. None ever this desperate.

You take the time to press yourself down against his lap, finally feeling him hard and ready between your legs. He moans into your mouth, his hands now snaked up under your skirt again, his hands fully cupping both your asscheeks.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, baby…” he says as you break away for a second. “Feel so fuckin’ good…”

“You haven’t even felt me yet, Murph…” you laugh.

“Don’t need to feel you to know how good you are…how perfect…” he praises through pants of air. You reach behind you, searching with your hand until you find his cock, basically bursting at the seams of his still-damp jeans. You brush your hand across it a little before you squeeze. Just that touch makes him jump, his hands disconnecting from you for just a second as he gathers himself, his head rolling back a little as he grips your face in his hands, returning back to the heated kiss.

“Unbutton your jeans, Ezra,” you finally demand, unable to take this foreplay any longer.

He wordlessly obeys your command, lifting you up with one hand while the other does what you want, and unbuckles his belt. You never let up on moving your lips across his neck and behind his ear, needing him to know how badly you want this. You want him.

You can feel your arousal pooling again as his fingers fidget so closely to where you need them, but finally you hear the sound of his zipper pulling down, and the feeling of his dick springing free.

You sit back, your back almost hitting the steering wheel as you take a good look at him, hair a mess and face flushed in the darkness, before letting your eyes travel down his torso and land on his cock.

Your hand gravitates to it, wasting no time in letting yourself feel him, finally. His left hand shoots behind him and wraps around the headrest, while the other one trails along your face, your shoulder, your hip…

Your hand begins to work him, barely enough material in his jeans and boxers to give him enough room to spring all the way free. “Fuck, Y/N…” he breathes, bucking his hips up into your touch. Your eyes flitter to watch his face, his eyelids hooded and his mouth hanging open.

“I don’t have any protection…” he finally admits, breathing out a dissatisfied sigh.

“Good thing I don’t care,” you respond, surprising yourself. You know you aren’t ovulating, and you know Murph isn’t the type of man to even let you get this far if you had anything else to worry about. Your mind is spinning too fast and your body is ravaging itself with want too badly to care, anyway.

You wrap your arms around his neck again, sitting up as you let yourself search for his tip. Your hips swirl around a little until you finally find it, teasing yourself just a little as you let your wetness coat him.

“Are you sure, baby…” he begs, truly showing his gentlemanly morals, as far in as you already are.

“Do I have anything to worry about?” you ask, feeling a little annoyed.

He shakes his head quickly from side to side. “No. I promise.”

“Good then, I’m positive…” you respond, lining up perfectly with him. You slowly begin to sink yourself down on him, letting your body adjust to this new stretch as you do so. “Ffff…” you breathe out as you realize he just keeps filling you and filling you, so deliciously sweet you think you could come undone already.

The sounds that escape both of you bounce off the windows of the car as the steam already starts to coat them, both of you unable to utter a coherent word at all. You lift off of him again, finding him to be of notable size, before sinking back down and bottoming out again. “Shit, Y/N… my god, baby…” he says as he brushes your damp hair from your face, giving your whole body an up-down.

“Mhmm…” you agree, pressing your chest back to his as you lean forward, starting to find a little bit of a rhythm. Things are always more difficult in a vehicle, especially in the cramped front seat of one, but you could truly care less that your knee is shoving into the seatbelt and your head is hitting the top of the cab.

His hands are traveling all over you, warming your skin as they do, and you wish that he could touch you all over and caress the places he can’t reach, all for the sake of warming you up. Your handles, your sides, your breasts… he takes special care to take his time and memorize you, all while the both of you are straining to keep yourselves together.

“Fuck, you feel good,” you say as your hands dig in to his pecs.

“All yours baby, take what you want,” he growls, thrusting up into you.

He buries his head in your chest, and you silently thank Ruth for the shirt suggestion. His lips drag warm and wet across your chest, pulling the fabric of your shirt to the side to reveal your chest. He drags his teeth against your sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to rise and your nipples to harden further.

“Baby, shit…”

“God, Ez, keep going,” you beg breathlessly.

The sounds filling the cab are lewd and wet and everything you knew this would be. His mouth is velvet against your skin as your fingers grip harder into his hair. You start to roll your hips to meet his thrusts, knowing you aren’t going to last very much longer, especially in this position.

“Y/N,” he groans, letting his hands rest at the curve of your waist, “I want you, baby,” he pauses, gasping for air as he fights his release, “Want you all the time.”

His hips snap up into you, your eyes watering at the sensation. He feels so fucking good. “I want you,” you whine, tightening and fluttering around his cock.

“I’ll give it to you. You just fucking say it and I’ll give it to you,” he begs, needing desperately to claim you as his own.

His hand snakes down, his fingers circling rapidly over your swollen clit, pushing you over the edge.

“Murph, baby, yes! I’m there. I’m coming, fuck,” you cry out, the windows of the car practically dripping with condensation.

“Yeah, baby, me too, god you’re so fuckin’ sexy. Fuckin’ gorgeous, cum Y/N, let me fill you,” he says, thrusting into you one last time as you both meet your collective release.

Your name falls from his lips as you gasp his, your hands never leaving his hair as you unravel around him. You feel him warm and full inside of you, his eyes rolled back in his head as he starts to come down.

“I don’t wanna move,” you smile, pressing your lips to his.

“Don’t have to. More than happy to keep you right here, just like this,” he grins, nipping at your bottom lip. “Though I’d love to take you back to my room to get cleaned up.”

“Yeah? You want more?” you tease.

“I’ll never get enough of you girl,” he says, a little bit of an accent peeking through.

“Makes two of us,” you grin, rolling your hips one last time before lifting up off of him.

“I think we have early call time tomorrow, though,” he says, seemingly disappointed.

“We do. Full day, but then we have a week off,” you say, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

“Hmm, and just what am I gonna do with you for a full week,” he teases.

“I can think of a few things,” you wink.

“Come on, trouble. Let me walk you back to your room.”

—

JAKE POV

Pulling back into the hotel, you find yourself still reeling with madness, hoping to god you don’t run into Y/N and Murph in the lobby. It’d be in their best interest to stay far, far away from you right now.

You feel Josh at your side as you shake your jacket free of the residual rain and beeline toward the elevator, daring someone to even try and talk to you.

“Jake, baby, I’ll see you upstairs?” Isla asks from across the lobby as Lyla pulls her to the hotel bar. “We’re just having one drink.” You nod at her and wave her off, not really giving a fuck. Your mind is still rushing with those horrible thoughts of revenge, and you tell yourself that it would be the most delicious thing right now, to get a taste of retaliation and forbidden fruit at the same time. It’s fucking dirty and you know it, but it makes the thought all the more alluring.

“Hey, asshole, do not do what I think you’re gonna do…” you hear Josh in your ear as you step onto the elevator, Ty right behind him.

“Yeah, Jake, we saw them going to the parking garage too, I know you’re fucking seething with jealousy right now, but do not do this…” Ty agrees as you press the button for your floor repeatedly.

You cross your arms in front of you, staring up at the ceiling as you ignore them. Your skin is absolutely freezing, but it’s almost as if you can’t even feel it, completely numb physically and emotionally.

“I’m going to do whatever I fucking want,” you say, keeping monotone.

“Jake, I know you think that this is a good idea right now, but I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow and find out you fucking slept with her–” Josh grits in your ear, and you know he will probably make your life a living hell. But in all actuality, he doesn’t have to know shit.

The elevator dings for your floor, and you make a quick exit, leaving the two of them without another glance. “Night.”

You make a mad dash to your room, ripping your wet clothes off and changing into a pair of loose black sweatpants, forgoing a shirt. You make your way to the mini bar, grabbing two bottles of tequila and a cup, deciding to dig into the half-melted ice in the bucket from earlier in the day. You crack them open and pour them over the melted ice, drinking down half of it in one swallow.

What the fuck are you even thinking?

Suddenly Isla bursts back into the room, and that one drink at the bar must have ended pretty quickly, as she still had the bar glass full in her hand. “Heyyyyy baby!” she gloats with a hiccup. “I couldn’t wait any more, I wanted to come back up here with you…”

You recline back in your spot on the bed, grabbing your phone to mindlessly scroll as you attempt to ignore her. You’re going to fight this tooth and nail…

She begins dancing around the room, sipping her drink as she does. She’s singing a familiar tune, and it only takes you a few seconds to recognize it as a Keys song from tonight. You pay a little bit more attention, noticing that she isn’t singing any of the words correctly.

“Isla, get the words right, or don’t sing it at all. You’re insulting them,” you say, cutting your eyes at her.

She scoffs, “Ugh, at least I’m trying, their music just… was never really my cup of tea.”

You nearly choke on your own tongue. “Uh excuse me? They’ve been one of my biggest influences for the past ten years, all I fucking play and you don’t even like their music? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorrrrrry!” She falls onto the bed belly first, giggling at herself as she bounces. “They’re just kind of boring, I guess.”

If you weren’t insulted by the wrong lyrics, you’re fucking insulted now. No wonder things aren’t working out between the two of you. You toss back another drink of your liquor, resorting back to your phone to occupy you. Images of Murph and Y/N litter your mind again, and the envy piles back up in your chest, wondering what the hell they are doing right now. How fucking could she? And how the fuck could he?? His job is to come here and work for you, not galavant around with his coworkers…

Your eyes are caught watching the same video on repeat when Isla stands back up and pulls her shirt over her head, tossing it to her bag in the corner. You can't help but let your eyes drift, watching as she pulls her tight skirt down, revealing her perfectly proportioned body in a matching deep purple lace set. You swallow as you watch her move, running her hands over her body as she adjusts the thong, then as she runs her hands through her long tousled hair.

Fuck, look away.

She turns, her left hand lightly cupping her breast as she faces you completely, hardly paying you any mind as she lifts her drink to her lips again. She slowly sits on the edge of the bed, running her hand over her legs in an attempt to warm herself up. “That was a really good show though, wasn’t it Jake?” she asks, her eyes flicking to you for just a second as the remnants of her red lipstick stick to the white straw. “I see why you love them so much, and I’m sorry I never paid much attention before. ‘M gonna download a bunch of their songs right now…”

Your nose scrunches up in disbelief. She what?

“Yeah um, they’re excellent. Been around a really long time,” you agree, clearing your throat as you speak. She tilts her drink back a little as she nears the bottom of it, scrolling on her phone as she plays the beginnings of the Keys most popular songs. She stretches her neck as she listens and bobs her head, adding the songs to her playlist as she goes. Your eyes can’t help but wander again, taking in the shape of her back and legs, once all yours for the taking.

Her lingerie looks familiar, but you don’t want to let your eyes sit too long to figure out why. She stands and flips the lamp by the bed off, placing her empty glass on the nightstand. She lays down beside you, still completely invested in her phone and her music, humming along to the songs as she plays them.

For a second, things feel like they did a year ago, the two of you in a comfortable silence as you minded your own business, just happy to be in each others’ presence. No arguing, no yelling, just listening to music and being near one another.

It feels… nice.

She’s ignoring you altogether now, watching the videos she took tonight as she smiles and laughs at them, sending a few to Mia and Lyla.

Her hair is so long that the ends of it are tickling your arm, sending a little bit of a chill through your body. Your eyes begin to blur from the straight tequila, a familiar warmth coming through your veins. Suddenly memories come flowing back of the last time you saw her in that set, your brain racking with visions of her trying to take it off, but you making her leave it on.

You feel a wave of anxiousness shoot through you as her eyes pop to yours, catching you looking at her. “What are you looking at, Jacob?” she asks flatly.

“Nothing,” you reply, your eyes shooting back to your phone.

“Doesn’t look like nothing…” she grins, her eyes going back to her phone, too.

Before you can stop the words, they fall freely from your mouth. “Why did you wear that under your dress tonight?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “I dunno, it has good memories attached to it. Was hoping you’d take it off of me… You bought it for me for our anniversary last year, remember?”

Ah, that’s why it’s so familiar.

“Oh yeah, I remember,” you reply, and suddenly you remember a lot more from that night. Dinner and drinks had turned into a wild night, both of you passing out on the couch completely nude after not having made it back to the bed, at all.

“But, that didn’t happen,” she goes on, “I didn’t wanna waste it again, so I’m just wearing it for myself.” Her voice is light and airy, the complete opposite of what it normally is these days. The normal weight that sits above the two of you suddenly feels like a cloud full of sunlight, and you can’t lie, your sex-starved mind is having trouble taking your eyes off of her as her thumb mindlessly runs along the front seam of her thong.

She crosses one of her legs over the other as they’re bent up on the bed, her finger still scrolling through old Keys albums as she listens to her snippets, tapping her foot along in the air as the music plays. What the fuck, Jake? Get it together… Tooth and nail, remember? Tooth. And. Nail.

Just like she can read your mind, her free hand comes up and begins drifting over her skin, tickling herself just like she always does when she starts to get sleepy. You watch as her red fingernails lightly dust over her thighs and stomach, then along the side of her tit as she continues to ignore your existence, all the while you have begun to fight for your life through the lust that’s unabashedly coursing through your body. Ignore it Jake…

But the lust is too strong, and your need for revenge is greater than giving a fuck about the repercussions. Hell, Y/N is probably naked and under Murph right now, what do you have to lose? You remember the look Danny gave you at the show after Murph whispered in his ear, and the text that he sent you shortly thereafter that simply said ‘Yeah, it’s what you think’. She ignored you all day, your text at the show, won’t even give you the time or a second glance… Everything is fucked anyway…

Isla is still relaxed across the bed, slurping at the melted ice in the bottom of her glass without a care. Is she really ignoring you right now? After being so persistent the past few days, what switched?

Her fingers are still drifting, her tits sitting perfectly in the purple lace cups, and your hands begin to remember what they feel like when you squeezed them, that deep-rooted feeling of desire burning hot in your belly and chest. God damnit…

She moans a little yawn as she switches her crossed leg, obviously making a spectacle of her own body, but you swear on your life, she doesn’t seem to be doing it on purpose. She truly looks like she’s just laying and relaxing in her own little world on her phone. This is your old Isla. You hear another laugh fall from her lips as she’s now switched to texting in a group with Mia and Lyla, completely uncaring that you can fully see her screen. The sound is like music to your intoxicated ears, reminding you of all the times you would make her make that sound. When you would make her make even better sounds.

Truly, sex was never your issue. It came so naturally to the two of you that it felt habitual but in a good way, leaving little to discuss because you each knew the other's body so intimately, so perfectly. You feel your dick hardening in your jeans as you try to distract your thoughts, but also, why should you?

Just then, Isla sets her glass back down, turning her body to face you with her hand tucked up under her cheek. “Do you wish these were your hands on me, Jake? I can feel your eyes...”

You swallow harshly as you’re caught. “Maybe,” you growl.

She giggles, leaning in closely as her lips drift across yours. You feel her essence take over your senses, remembering the smell of her like it was yesterday. The intoxicating feeling of her body on yours when you weren’t screaming at each other tumbling back from its place in your memory box. Her hand drifts up to grip in your roots, pulling your face further into her, but not yet making contact.

You’re breathless as you watch her eyes scan yours, her brow furrowed as she tries to read you. Your chest is tight and your limbs are frozen in place. You feel like you’re unable to think as you decide on your next move. Your body wants to pick her up and bend her over, rip her thong to the side and fuck her into the headboard until she’s screaming your name… but your mind is begging you to stay away. Back out now. Run so far away that you get lost.

But the devil on your shoulder begins to win the fight as your body betrays you, your head leaning in to finally let your lips make contact with hers. Her grip on your hair tightens as she kisses you back, her tongue already diving deep into your mouth. You bite it, pulling on it with force before switching to holding it with your lips, popping it before you dive right back in.

Motherfucker she tastes so good, the cold tequila still very much present on her lips.

The both of you are ravenous once contact is made, your arms wrapping around her to lie her back into the pillows, giving you a bit more control as your hands begin to explore her body.

Fuck, this is so wrong. This is such a bad goddamned idea. Stop, just stop now, while you’re ahead…

But she tastes like fucking honey. And your dick is throbbing. And she’s so familiar, and gorgeous, and begging for you to fuck her…

She whimpers into your mouth as your hand drifts down to grip her tit, ripping the fabric away as your fingers pinch at her nipple, rolling it between your thumb and pointer finger. The sound alone makes your dick twitch in your pants, and all you can imagine is her hand on you, pulling you free from the confines of your boxers. Your hand moves from her tit to her side, gripping your fingertips into it as you move down to her hip, your mouths still fighting each other for dominance.

You press down on her hip with force, making one of her knees bend up. Your hand brushes across her stomach and down to her cunt, her body already bucking itself up into your touch and you haven’t even given it to her yet. You break away from the kiss, panting and sweating with blind lust as you look into her eyes, deep and dark as she bites her swollen lips together.

Finally she gives you what you want, her hand reaching between you to brush over your dick, hard as rock under her hand. “Hm, still get hard for me, huh Jacob? I knew you did–”

You silence her quickly with a harsh hand over her mouth blocking any more words from escaping. You pause, giving her a look so menacing you think it might scare her off, but instead, you feel her smile under it. She undoes the button of your jeans with one quick motion, letting her hand dive inside your jeans and boxers, finding your cock with ease. You inhale sharply at the feeling of her grip, your jaw tightening down as you continue to press your hand on her mouth. She pulls your waistband down with her other hand as your dick springs free, bobbing and grazing the inside of her leg.

Her hand travels to tease the tip, lightly tickling over it as your eyes begin to roll back. Her eyebrows raise in question, and you know exactly what she’s thinking, the conniving–

You thrust into her hand, your entire self burning with desire to fill her up, but your hand presses on her mouth harder. Her leg falls to the side even more as your free hand reaches down to grip yourself, running it over the fabric of her thong. Her eyes close quickly as you tease her back, pushing the head of your dick against her opening, already drenched through the lace.

You kiss her again, but only once before breaking away. Your finger hooks in the seam of her thong, pulling it to the side as you use your hand to guide yourself into her, slowly, so fucking painfully slowly…

“You don’t say a mother fucking word about this to anyone, you hear me?” you ask quietly as you hold eye contact, your hand still covering her mouth. “No one knows.”

You stupid idiot motherfucker.

Your hand is still gripped on your shaft as you circle around her entrance, still only allowing yourself a few centimeters of access. “Do you hear me?” you ask, of which she responds with a quick nod.

“If you want me to fuck you, say yes… but if I hear of you sharing this with even fucking Lyla, I swear to god…”

You pull your hand away from her mouth for long enough to hear her speak. “Yes, Jake, please… I promise, it’s our secret… no one has to know…” she pleads, and you know she could be lying, but you’re already in this far. “Please, baby I need to feel you…” Finally, against every voice screaming at you in the back of your mind, you let your hips press into her all the way, her leg flying out to the side as her head tilts back into the pillows. “Ahhhh, oh my god oh my god baby…” she groans as you bottom out, and you have to admit, she still feels fucking perfect wrapped around you. One of the best you have ever fucking had.

Your mind is racing with thoughts so fast you can hardly see straight, the liquor definitely doing its job in assisting your lust. You pull out, your dick completely drenched with her wetness, before pushing back in again. You want to take it slow, enjoy every single second of your revenge, but on the other hand you want to get this over with. You know you’ve already made a grave mistake.

You maneuver yourself to place both hands on either side of her head, hovering over her completely now as her hands latch on to your sides, pulling you further into her. “God baby, harder, please…” she begs.

You tap her lips with your fingertips. “Shh. Quiet, remember?”

She nods accordingly, biting her lips to keep herself from screaming out. You place both of your knees between her legs as you sit back a little bit, taking in the blurry sight of her. So gorgeous and perfect just like you remember. Just as your eyes hit where the two of your bodies are connected, she reaches down with both hands, pulling her lips apart even further for you. The visual is enough to make you want to cum right then and there, and you groan loudly as you press into her again, a new sensation as her hands make her opening even tighter for you.

“Jacob, baby, I thought we were being quiet?” she says, biting into your shoulder.

You breathe a displeased huff as her teeth dig into your muscle, causing you to want to choke out another moan of pleasure. She knows exactly what she’s doing. You pick up with pace for real now, holding on to the back of the headboard as you lift one of her legs to bend to her chest, and wrapping the other one around your waist. You begin pounding into her with a force so dramatic the headboard is beating against the wall, but you could care less.

She’s still biting her lips, trying her best to hold her sounds in, but then again, you’re having a hard time, too. God, this feels so fucking good. But it doesn’t feel right. Not in the least. Your guilt is starting to sink in as you look down at Isla’s gorgeous face begging to scream your name, all the while imagining Y/N doing the same for you, not that long ago.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. Your body has rejected you, your mind isn’t as strong as you thought. The most devastating mistake you could ever make is happening right now in real time, and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re not going to make it out alive.

Isla gushes around you as you feel her body tightening, her nails gripping into your sides as she makes her marks on you. She reaches behind your neck, pulling you down to her. You release your grip on the headboard and follow her guidance. “C’mere, baby, want you down here with me where I can see you, where I can feel you. Missed you so bad… wanted us again for so long. Fuck, you feel so goddamn good inside of me, baby…” she whispers, still following your instruction of being quiet. Her words were always the cherry on top of her already top-notch fucking, and you halfway consider flipping her to let her ride you, but you avoid the thought.

You slow things down as her hand still stays rested between you, the other still pulling at your hair drifting down into your face. You feel her hand move between you, massaging her clit as you begin to roll your hips at a slower pace. “What, I’m not enough for you?” you ask, swiping her hand away and taking over the motion yourself.

Isla laughs. “No, just wanted you to take that job over for me,” she smirks with a satisfied smile. Fuck, she did it again. You can feel her wetness all over your hand as you continue your languid swipes into her, your thumb working her up even more, now. The sounds that fill the room are wet and smacking, making the high you’re reaching for all the more craveable. She feels fucking perfect. But, you know that she is not.

Your hand covers her mouth again as her moans become closer and closer together, her eyes closing as her jaw falls open. You know she’s close, but you’re not going to let anyone hear the commotion if they happen to come knocking on your door.

“Gonna come, Jake… baby–” she says from behind your hand, and you feel her whole body tensing and tightening as her orgasm washes over her, her nails digging roughly into your sides. And the feeling of her coming apart beneath you for what had to be the thousandth time, finally feels like what would be the last.

Her pathetic sounds make you begin to throb inside her, and you know you’ll be following closely behind in a matter of seconds. You release your hold on her mouth as you steady yourself, your hands gripping hard into the sheets as the white light hits your eyes.

Jake, no.

At the very last second, you pull away from her, taking yourself in your hand and pumping a few times before you let yourself go, coating her stomach and legs with your release.

The both of you breathe through the comedowns, sweaty and panting as the reality of what just happened sets in. You hop up to get her a towel, returning to help her wipe herself clean.

“You could have, you know…” she says with disappointment.

You shake your head as you toss the rag to the floor and lay back down again, still out of breath. “No. I couldn’t have. How would I know if you skipped a pill or something?”

“Jake, I would never–”

“You wouldn’t? Are you sure about that?” you ask, proud of yourself for not making that mistake.

She stays quiet as she avoids eye contact with you. “You’re probably not even on it anymore, are you?” you ask. She solemnly shakes her head.

“Made me sick.”

You nod, knowing that that wasn’t a conversation that would have been appropriate at all in the past few months.

“This goes nowhere but in this bedroom, Isla, please promise me. You understand?” you ask. “It was a moment of weakness. This doesn’t change anything about where we stand.”

She sniffles her nose clear. “It changes nothing, huh?”

You swallow, finding the courage to speak on this once and for all. Finding a clear and level head like you’d never found it before. “Nothing.”

And it truly didn’t. You still feel the exact same. Though your bodies mesh so perfectly that it’s a sin in itself to go unacted upon, you know that the toxicity would come creeping back, just like it always does. It’s time to wash your hands clean.

“Do you still love me, Jake? Even a little bit?”

You shake your head. “No, Isla. It’s gone.”

—

HER POV

You roll over to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, your hair a mess over your eyes as the sunlight beams onto your face. You sit up in a hurry, the memories of last night coming back into your mind one by one. Ezra’s room. You calm a little as you brush the strands from your eyes, huffing a breath of relief as you search around the room for him, but you come up short.

The bathroom light is off, and you notice that his boots are not by the door. You glance to the clock to find it still fairly early, your call time not for another hour. There, laying on the nightstand by the clock, is a folded piece of white paper with your name written on the front in scribbled pen. You pick it up and unfold it, finding it to be the receipt from the place you’d grabbed a late, greasy dinner with Murph at a place by the hotel last night. He’d insisted that you eat, even though you both were a soaked, freezing, post-sex mess.

Mornin’ sunshine

Couldn’t wake you, you looked too damn pretty

Had a great time with you last night

The boys are gonna have a hard time knockin this smile off my face today

But I won’t tell them why : )

The breakfast downstairs ain’t my momma’s, but it’s close

See you later on baby

-Ezra

You swoon at the fact he left you a love note to wake up to, and you fold it back up, tucking it perfectly into your purse that lied on the floor by the bed. Your mood has instantly changed, and you’d almost completely forgotten about the dramatics that Jake decided to add to the evening with his text and song addition last night.

He looked absolutely miserable. You know that his hands on Isla were just to piss you off and attempt to make you jealous, and they did to an extent, but really all it did was make you feel even worse for him. You know that if you hadn’t been standing there with Murph, he would have been enjoying the show with his brothers, one hand stuffed in his pocket and not wrapped around Isla’s waist in a petty attempt to jab at you.

Poor guy, honestly. Maybe you were too harsh on him in the gym. But damn, if it doesn’t feel like all Jake does is try to explain himself to you. Maybe one last try. One last go around of hearing his side of things…

You pick up your phone seeing a slew of notifications, but what you can’t seem to shake away is the song on repeat in your mind. The one he added to tell you how he feels. He doesn’t want to fight. Hell, you don’t want to fight either. It’s been exhausting. You toss your phone onto the bed as you run your fingers through your hair, deciding that against your better judgment you want to give Jake one more shot, one more chance to clear things up. You’ve got to be an adult about this, your job depends on it.

You make yourself look presentable, brushing your teeth and throwing on something more appropriate as you snatch a keycard from the dresser.

You know Isla will be in there with him, but she is going to give you a minute to speak to Jake. You have just as much dog in this fight as she does, given that Jake and everyone else has been telling you the truth about their relationship for all this time. You had somewhat of a relationship with him, too. And if you’re going to continue to work professionally by his side, you’re clearing it up. Now.

You make a quick pit stop in the downstairs lobby, grabbing not two, but three coffees and a handful of sugar packets. Peace offering. Like adults.

You rush back upstairs and knock a few times on his door, stepping back to gain your confidence to ask him to speak privately in the hall. No emotions, no ties. Just a chance to clear the air, that’s all you really want.

You hear a commotion behind the door and a high-pitched giggle that you instantly recognize. Suddenly the door swings open, revealing a scantily-clad Isla, her body wrapped up in the bed sheets that are hardly doing enough to cover her barren chest and legs. Oh. A quick glance behind her shows Jake in almost the same attire, sitting anxiously on the edge of the bed as he tries to cover himself.

Fucking shit.

You watch as his eyes fall shut and his face grimaces, knowing that this is the worst possible way they could have been caught. And that’s exactly what you did. You fucking caught them.

“Oh, hey, we didn’t order room service… Jake already ate plenty last night, but thanks anyway,” Isla smirks a harsh wink at you as she attempts to pull the sheet more tightly around her before slamming the door in your face.

Tears are already filling your eyes as you set the coffees down on the floor, rushing back off toward the elevator as quickly as you can. That was the last fucking thing you thought you’d see this morning.

Your breath is catching in your throat as you pace, and you hear the faint sound of Jake’s voice yelling after you as you get closer to your destination. You ignore it, but hear it and his footsteps getting closer. Fuck him, fuck all of this.

Finally you reach the metal doors, pressing the button over and over and over until it finally springs open and you step inside, watching the image of Jake running down the hall toward you, your name falling from his lips as the doors cut him off. You hear his fists bang on the cold metal before it takes off on its descent, leaving your heart to plummet to the ground right along with it.

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 1 year

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#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #sun and moon show #sams #fnaf solstice #fnaf asteroid #snoweytrashposts #snoweytalks #snoweyrambles #snoweyrants #eclipse backup polls #ocs can be found by their names on my page

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bamboozledbird · 2 months

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IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU // Chapter 1 (reader version)

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Reader (You) Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, parental death (rip to your fake mom), descriptions of burning, depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. For years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because you feel like something halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter.

You can’t wash the smell of hospital out of clothes, not really. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Scott’s new-found abilities and the murky world they’ve been dragged into is making it pretty damn hard to keep his promise.

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real and old family skeletons rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive?

Maybe, the real question is how long will they want to? Chapter Summary: After your annual interrogation with Sheriff Stilinski, you meet his son who turns out to be very handy with jumper cables and incoherent babbling.

A/N: Does this look familiar? It should lmao. I gave into the peer pressure. All the messages and requests were too powerful. Here is a reader version of my ofc season 1 fic. Obviously some things have been removed to get rid of specific names/descriptions, so you want to read the full thing you can read the og version and check me out on ao3 (dork_knight)! For the sake of not clogging tags, I'll probably just do my reader version on tumblr and the full oc lore version on ao3 from now on. xx

Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire.

Before your mother’s death, you would have picked fire. Every single time.

You never liked the cold; never really had to get used to it growing up in central California—but the crux of your argument, the twisted logic behind it all, was that most burn victims died from suffocation before they felt the flames. A small mercy, really, in the face of unspeakable tragedy.

In the end, however, statistics were just numbers, your mother didn't die from smoke inhalation, and there was no mercy in burying a parent before you were old enough to have children of your own. Nothing ever ended poetically off the page. Death was just death, and it was always ugly. Someone should really tell that to Robert Frost, you mused, biting at a raw hangnail.

The medical examiner said the actual cause of death was pulmonary edema; at least, that was his best guess based on the state of the body. He didn’t say that she felt everything, her skin peeling back into her flesh, her flesh liquefying into fuel, her joints flexing into contorted pleas until the fire incinerated her last nerve ending. He didn’t have to; you connected those dots all on your own. You’d been twelve at the time, not an imbecile.

“I’m sorry to drag you through this all again.”

You flitted your eyes away from the flickering lightbulb above Sheriff Stilinski’s head and met his gaze; it was nauseatingly sympathetic. Your responding shrug was a small, little thing—more like a twitch in practice, “Not your fault.”

Your yearly visits to Sheriff Stilinski’s office were solely your father’s doing, even if no one wanted to admit it to your face. Most mayors would use their political power to get their child out of a police station, not into it, but perhaps he stopped being your dad somewhere between the funeral and now.

“If you could start—”

“From the beginning,” you smoothed your thumb in small circles over the armrest of your chair, attentively tracing patterns into the polished wood, “I know.” This was, after all, the fourth anniversary of your first interrogation. You’d become somewhat of an expert at being a useless witness. You picked at your uneven cuticles before continuing, “Mom put me to bed around 10:00—which was kind of late for a school night, honestly, but she let me stay up to finish another chapter anyway.” The right corner of your mouth twitched for a brief moment, “Nancy Drew: Password to Larkspur Lane. I told her that forcing someone to go to sleep in the middle of a mystery was specifically forbidden in Geneva Protocol II.” Your mom had been far too indulgent of your lip on most occasions, but that night she didn’t smile at your snarky aside. She let you finish the chapter because she was too tired to argue; you could tell. At the time, you saw it as a victory. Now, it kept you up at night, the drooping lines of your mother’s mouth spilling over the pages of whatever book you were trying to read.

You bit down on your tongue when a stray splinter snagged against the soft pad of your thumb, “Dad was out of town, so it was just the two of us. Mom always put me to bed when Dad was gone; said it was the only way she could get to sleep. Had to make sure my window was locked.” You paused for a long moment: everything went dark after this. Your mother kissed the top of your head, murmured, ‘Love you,’ turned out the light, and then that was it. You woke up in the hospital, and your mom was dead.

A bead of sweat dripped onto your top lip. The air in the Beacon Hills police station was, without fail, sticky with heat and body odor—and it wasn’t just the oppressive Californian sun. Even in the winter, a person could choke on the stifling warmth. Idly, you wondered if it was a matter of interrogatory tactics or budgetary constraints.

“And then,” Sheriff Stilinski prompted gently, though you both knew how the story went from here. You had told it to him and a dozen other officials at least a hundred times in the last four years.

You bit down on your thumbnail and winced when your teeth snagged on the tender nail bed, “And then nothing. I opened my eyes, and a nurse said that you found me on the front lawn.”

“You don’t remember how you got outside?”

You shook your head, staring past the Sheriff's shoulder. Large pieces of dust floated through the air, highlighted by the slivers of light trickling through the blinds. Suddenly, you had a newfound appreciation for the lack of fans in the room.

Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat and rubbed his hand over his jaw, “You don’t remember saying it was an angel?”

Blinking slowly, you looked at the grim line of the Sheriff’s mouth and gripped your knees tightly, digging your fingers into fragile skin until your wrist cracked, “I should, right? I was twelve. I should remember something—that’s what everyone thinks. That’s what my dad thinks.” Your eyelids fluttered to a tight close, and your voice went so quiet you could barely be heard over the hum of the copier outside the door, “He thinks it was me. That’s why he makes you question me every year.” Copper flooded your mouth as the soft lining of your cheek split under the brunt of your teeth, “He thinks you’ll finally figure out how I did it.”

You were scared to open your eyes as the silence stretched between the two of you. You’d danced around the subject before, hinted and spun around the heart of it, but you’d never truly discussed how it looked from the outside. Sheriff Stilinski had been kind enough to give you a few different excuses over the years: trauma, head injury, oxygen deprivation, just plain ol’ grief—but whatever caused your temporary amnesia wasn’t so conveniently explained. In fact, currently, you had no explanation at all. When you finally peeked through your lashes, clumped together with frustrated tears, you couldn’t quite figure out what expression the Sheriff was making. He leaned back in his desk chair and frowned, “I’m sure he doesn’t—”

“He does,” you cut him off. Your eyes went flinty, irises darkening to something far more ashen with the resolve of your anger. You never had any trouble reading your father’s face; the disgust was thinly-veiled between the flickers of fear.

Sheriff Stilinksi leaned forward so that you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. They were kind—more tired than usual, but still kind. They always were. That was one thing you remembered from that day, waking up in the hospital to Sheriff Stilinski’s kind, watery blue eyes, just before the entire world fell apart. His voice was gentle, but firm, when he finally spoke, “I don’t.”

You nodded numbly and pulled at a fraying string on the hem of your denim skirt until the thread snapped.

“I mean it, kid. They couldn’t identify the source of the fire. They couldn’t even find an origin point; no twelve-year-old could pull that off.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Could anyone?”

Sheriff Stilinski’s brow furrowed, and his mouth screwed up into a crooked line, like he was chewing on his words and deciding if he should swallow them or spit them out. “I wish I had all the answers for you. I really do. Not knowing, it’s worse than any truth.”

You blinked up at him for a moment, once again taken aback by his raw sincerity, and swallowed hard. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to have the answers; he was the one who was supposed to ask the questions. There was one failure in his muggy office, and it wasn’t the Sheriff. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “Not your fault.”

He looked like he wanted to argue the point, but whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by the sharp ringing of the phone on his desk. “I have to take this, but if you remember something, or if you just need to talk—”

“My dad spends a small fortune on a psychiatrist and a behavioral therapist for that,” you stood up quickly, shouldering your bag. You forced the corners of your mouth into a small smile, tight at the edges like a sheet that had been stretched too thin, “But thank you. For everything.”

The Sheriff’s gaze darted to a framed photo on his desk. You had seen it before, on one of your many visits to his office. It was of a boy—his son, you assumed—he looked like he was around five or six at the time. He was grinning, wide enough to show off his missing incisors, and his fingers and wrist were stained cotton-candy blue from a melting popsicle. You must’ve been that happy once, right? In the beginning, everyone was unencumbered by the weight of imminent mortality. Maybe that’s what Sheriff Stilinski was thinking, too. He looked away from the photo and gave you a small smile, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You gave a half-hearted wave before wrapping your fingers around the strap of your backpack and walking to the parking lot.

Outside, the sky was grim, a mocking reflection of the dour expression on your face. The spite in your eyes hardened when big, fat raindrops splattered against the apples of your cheeks. For a moment, you just stood there, glaring at the rain and cursing the cosmos for their utterly unamusing sense of humor.

A jeep pulled into the parking lot, and the squealing engine startled you back into reality. The search for your car keys was, of course, a considerable endeavor. Nothing could be easy. Not here. Not today. Not ever, you thought. A bit melodramatic maybe, but the weather was certainly ripe for a bit of self-pity.

You stacked your textbooks and binders onto the hood of your sedan, haphazardly throwing your jacket on top of the pile to protect your painstakingly penned Kafka essay from the rain. By the time your fingertips brushed against the cool metal of your car keys, your hair was damp and curling at the ends.

The momentary relief was short-lived when you pressed the unlock button five times and the accompanying beep didn’t sound, not even once. For an absurdly long minute, all you could do was rest your forehead against the driver’s side window, breathing heavily until condensation gathered next to your mouth and the drizzle speckled dots onto the sleeves of your thin cotton shirt.

“If you’re trying to charge the battery through osmosis, it’d probably be more effective to smash your head against the hood.”

You jumped, and then flinched again when your keys clattered against the ground. You caught a glimpse of the phantom speaker in the side-view mirror; bizarrely, he looked just as surprised as you felt. You turned around, trepidatiously—objects may be closer than they appear n’all—and tried to swallow your rapidly rising heart.

“Sorry,” the boy pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down and had the decency to look contrite, “big mouth.” He rubbed a hand over his chapped lips. “It’s a real problem. It’s so big, actually, that my foot just slides right in there like…all the time,” he gestured animatedly with a flat hand, a quick sliding motion, like a fish through water.

You blinked at him, slowly, and bent down to reach for your keys, “Might wanna see someone about that. Sounds unsanitary.”

“Eh, it’s hardly the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth,” he said, eyes widening into horrified round circles the second he stopped talking. A faint flush creeped up his neck to his ears, and your heart dropped back into your chest. Slashers and ax murderers didn’t blush. Probably. You hadn’t ever met one, but it seemed like sound logic.

“Choking hazard,” you hummed, leaning back against your car. Your fingers traced a small dent in the door, the cause long forgotten, “It’s definitely still a choking hazard.”

The boy grinned before fixing his expression into something on the cusp of severity, “I’m about 95.7% sure that anything bigger than a fist is completely mouth-safe.” He held up his fist and nodded sharply, “Make that 98.3% sure.”

“98.3?” your brow arched.

“Maybe even 98.9.”

The buzz of a lamp post hummed above your heads as you stared at each other with little smirks until the quiet made you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and big-mouth drum his fingers against his forearm.

“So,” his sneakers squeaked against the slick asphalt as he shifted his weight, “you need a jump?”

You pursed your lips and ran your eyes over the front of your car, “I might give osmosis another shot. 30 seconds is hardly a fair trial.”

“Of course,” he hummed, “you gotta be fair.”

“We are in front of a police station.”

“Well,” he scratched his cheek, “it’s not a courthouse.”

“Technicality.” You were slightly horrified when you finally noticed that you were smiling. The sensation felt like it had escaped straight out of the uncanny valley and latched onto your face like a parasite in need of a host. It only took two weeks for muscles to atrophy; years must have completely decimated the fibers in your cheeks. “I guess I could use a jump. If your offer was an offer and not a hypothetical.”

“Smart choice.” The boy rapped his knuckles against the hood of your car and said, “Steel’s probably pretty low on the permeability scale.”

“As opposed to a skull.”

He snorted and then nodded towards the large lump of books and papers covered by your freshly dampened jean jacket, “You should probably move your stuff. Y’know, ‘cause of the very un-permeable battery.”

“There’s that,” you sighed and started stuffing your things back into your backpack, shaking it violently until your notebook finally slid past your chemistry textbook, “and flunking English isn’t high on my list of things to do this weekend.”

His gaze flickered back and forth, rapidly cataloging every corner and crevice of your face. You tilted your head, brows pinched, and stared back at him with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. His eyes, you noticed, became a peculiar shade of brown in the yellow glow of the setting sun and the fluorescent light of the lamppost. More like honey, you realized, more like honey than irises. Something finally clicked behind them. "You,” he pointed aggressively, “you go to Beacon Hills.”

You pushed his finger away from your face with your own, “Safe bet, considering there’s exactly one option for the next 2,000 square miles.”

“You’re kind of a smartass, you know that,” he muttered. He struggled with the trunk of the jeep parked next to your car, cursing under his breath until he finally wrenched it open with an almost guttural grunt.

Your lips parted briefly, and then you grinned drolly. It was refreshing, not being treated like some fragile little creature who would buckle in the knees—or possibly set something on fire—at the slightest confrontation. “Kind of?”

“Total.” He nodded decisively before sticking his head and torso into the depths of his trunk. “Completely, entirely, and wholly a smartass.” There were various clanging sounds until he re-emerged with a pair of jumper cables, “Never noticed that in class. You don’t really…say anything.”

You bit back the snark poised on the tip of your tongue. When people looked at you, the only thing they saw was the worst thing that had ever happened to you. You were the daughter of the woman who burned to death on Cedar Street; your mom died, and you were there. It seemed like that was all you would ever be in Beacon Hills.

In the grand scheme of things, it was better to be no one.

High school had been your chance to slip into social obscurity—more kids, more drama, less discussion of homicide by arson—so you took it, wholeheartedly. You kept to the corners of classrooms, away from extracurriculars, and your mouth resolutely shut.

“I try to exclusively bring the smart and leave the ass at home,” you finally replied.

The boy’s eyes drifted downwards for a moment, and his voice did a funny, squeaky thing when he said, “I should give that a go sometime.”

“10/10 would recommend. No one bugs you—and teachers never throw erasers at your face.”

“So you do remember me,” he grinned a little and rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt before unlatching the jeep’s hood and propping it open.

Slanting your head, you watched his profile. There were moles scattered across his cheek and neck, and his angular jaw clenched as he struggled with the knotted cords in his willowy fingers. “Vaguely,” you said faintly. It was coming back to you in pieces. That was life after twelve for you: bits and pieces. Everything was made up of the disquieting moments when you surfaced from the haze and into the present. It should’ve felt like a lungful of air, but it didn’t. It always felt like choking.

He wiped his grease-smudged hand on his jeans and then extended it towards you, “Stiles.”

You took his hand, despite the strange formality, and shook it—mainly because of the black streaks staining his pants. “Y/N.”

His fingers twitched a few times when he connected the clamp to the coordinating battery terminal, and your eyes widened. You held your breath in your sternum until you registered that he hadn’t been electrocuted. He was just naturally tweaky, you concluded. It was either that, or he had jumped one-too-many engines in the last 24 hours…unless it was hidden option C, and he was actually tweaking. Unlikely, given he was on his way into a building teeming with cops, but far stranger things had happened in Beacon Hills.

You sighed a little as you listened to the rain patter against the asphalt and the roof of your car, rubbing your palms over your arms until the goosebumps prickling along your biceps receded into your skin. Stiles looked back at you again, and his mouth wormed its way into a little frown. His head disappeared into his trunk, and after a moment a lumpy maroon mass hurtled towards your face. You caught it before it could smack into your nose, and you clutched at the soft material until you realized that the projectile missile was actually just a sweatshirt.

Stiles was staring at you when you looked up from your hands. A small, unsure…something squirmed over his face, and you felt a little stupid, just standing there, hoodie limp in your arms. It happened a lot—more than it should after so many years. The invisible quicksand materialized in the strangest, most insignificant moments. You blinked, completely brainless, at simple questions, stared aimlessly into your closet until your second alarm startled you into snatching the first shirt you came across—clasped at a stranger’s hoodie until the rainwater pooled on your lashes dripped into your eyes.

Robotically, you thrust your arms through the sleeves and tugged it over your head, “Thanks.” The sweet scent of grass clung to the fabric, and there was something earthier underneath it, something like evergreen. You smiled slightly, combing your baby hairs behind your ears, “I guess I forgive you for attempting to blind me in the process.”

Stiles’s shoulders unwound as he scoffed, “That was an excellent throw. First-line material, honestly.”

You looked at him and tilted your head, eyebrows crawling towards your hairline, and Stiles sighed loudly, “Okay, so I’m not an ‘athlete’ or whatever—but I’m working on it. You’ll see—you’ll all see.”

You hummed softly, unconvinced but grateful enough to not comment further. Another bout of silence fell between you, but it wasn’t so restless this time—even after Stiles torpedoed his body through his passenger seat. He fought with his keys for a while until the correct one slid into the ignition.

The jeep’s engine hummed pleasantly in the background as you let out a soft sigh, dropping your head back against your car window. The rain had stopped somewhere between trying to unlock your car and now, but you couldn’t quite recall when. The chill wasn’t so bad, you realized, without your foul mood casting a shadow over your head.

Stiles landed back on his feet and leaned against the jeep. You could feel his gaze on you again. A tickling sensation trailed down your spine as you fiddled with your keychain. You took a step backwards and bit your bottom lip, “I should probably try start my car…y’know, before you throw something else at my face.’”

He nodded, taking a step towards his jeep, “Solid plan. A tire iron was next.”

You slid into your car and stared at the steering wheel, forgetting to laugh at his joke. You wrapped your fingers around 10 and 2 and silently called upon every deity you’d ever heard of to end your suffering. Stiles seemed nice enough, but you seriously doubted your smalltalk capabilities were up-to ‘ride home’ standards. Perhaps, you should revisit your resounding dedication to atheism, you thought, as the engine sputtered in protest a few times and then came back to life.

Stiles flashed two thumbs up through the window. The smile on his face was positively goofy, but his dismount from the jeep was somehow even goofier. He stumbled over his large feet a few times before regaining stability. You bit back a smile when he shot you another thumbs up, this time through the dash as he removed the jumper cables from your car’s battery.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans again; at this point, you were convinced that they were beyond saving, but Stiles didn’t seem concerned. He tapped against your window before stepping around the open door, “You should probably let it run for a while. Take the scenic route home; enjoy all the Beacon Hills hotspots open past 8:00 pm on a weeknight. I personally recommend the Rite Aid or Walmart.”

You snorted, “Maybe I’ll swing by the Preserve. I hear the woods are especially beautiful in the foreboding darkness.”

“Don’t.” Serious was an odd look on Stiles’s face. You decided that you much preferred the goofy grin. “Don’t go anywhere near the Preserve. It’s officially cordoned off—totally locked down, quarantine-zone-central. Something about flesh-eating, parasitic plant life.”

“As completely real and unobtrusive as that sounds,” you drawled, “don’t worry about it. Literally every single person in town knows about the body they found in the woods.” It was bound to happen, small town and all—and ‘woman dies in deadly animal attack’ was the most interesting thing that had happened in Beacon Hills since the intersection got a Target two years ago. “I’ve seen every installment of Friday the 13th and The Blair Witch Project. If I’m going to be murdered, I refuse to also be humiliated by a cliché C.O.D.”

The manic expression on his face softened to a relieved smile and then again to a little smirk, “So what’s a certified fresh murder, then? Not that I doubt the depths of human depravity, but I think society killed off originality a few centuries ago.”

You thought back to a house fire with no origin, accelerant, or discernible cause. Apparently, not. “You know what they say,” you sighed, “life finds a way.”

Stiles tilted his head, “And death.”

“And death,” you agreed, staring at a small chip in your windshield. The cracks had just begun to spiderweb out from the pit.

Stiles looked like he wanted to say something, and he looked so much like the Sheriff with his face twisted around thoughtful contemplation that you couldn’t believe it had taken you this long to make the connection. The boy in the photo had grown up. How unfortunate for him. Stiles swallowed whatever it was that was lingering on his tongue and shut your door. He leaned his elbow against the window frame and cocked his hand in a stiff little wave, “Seeya at school. I’ll bring something fun for target practice—maybe grapes. You like grapes? Don’t answer that—I’ll surprise you.”

You put your car in drive once Stiles was safely a few feet from the wheels and gave him a dry smile, “The anticipation is killing me.”

What a scary place to be, you thought as you watched Stiles disappear in your rearview mirror. Anticipation. Hope. Life. You were chronically good at surviving; cockroached your way out of every horrible thing life squashed you with. Lately, all you could do was cling to your heartbeat and the warmth of your skin, until you were barely more than roadkill. A walking carcass was a far cry from living, but death would not stop for you, so you stopped looking for him. You kept treading water, took your pills, stopped existing—you were a lot like Schrödinger’s cat that way: too stubborn to live, too stubborn to die. You didn’t know what to do if someone unsealed the box and forced you to choose. That was the trouble with possibility; it required far too much uncertainty.

Your dad’s SUV was parked in the garage when you finally pulled into your circle driveway. It was a rare sight; your dead battery had disrupted your usual routine. You were supposed to be safely tucked away in your room after an early dinner—take-out usually, sometimes a quesadilla if you were feeling exceptionally inspired—by the time your dad got home from work. It was dysfunctional in every sense of the word, but it was the only way you could function in the same space.

He used to stare at you from the other end of the dinner table: not eating, not speaking. The only way you knew he was alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest. After a while, he moved dinner to his office. ‘Working dinner,’ he’d say in passing, ‘budgets are due.’ Eventually, he stopped coming home altogether. It was better that way, you thought. You loved each other better from afar, where the power of nostalgia could cloud all the present unpleasantries. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you now. You wondered, and you desperately didn’t want to find out.

You shouldered your backpack and made sure your car lights were off twice before quietly creeping into the mudroom. You could hear the buzz of the microwave as you toed off your sneakers and tried to discern the smell emanating from the kitchen. Something with garlic and tomato. Bona Vita, probably. Your dad loved their al pomodoro.

You tried to make yourself as small as possible as you skulked into the kitchen, shoulders hunched to your ears and grip tight around the strap of your backpack. Your dad’s back was to you; you could see the wrinkles in his collar from where he tugged at it when he was agitated. He stopped stirring his pasta once you reached the island.

“Did…” your dad trailed off for a moment, still facing the kitchen counter, “did everything go alright with the Sheriff?”

You shrugged even though he couldn’t see you, “I guess.”

“It’s just,” he rubbed at his jaw and looked down towards the oven, “it’s almost eight. I was wondering…worrying.”

He still wasn’t looking at you. You stared at the back of his head and sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. Look at me. Your brows pinched, and your back molars ground together. Look at me.

“I called him. Sheriff Stilinski. He said that you didn’t speak for long.”

“Didn’t have anything new to say,” you shoved your hands into hoodie pockets, realizing belatedly that you forgot to give Stiles his sweatshirt back. Another problem for another time.

“That’s not what I—” your dad grasped the lip of the counter and hung his head like it suddenly weighed too much for his spine, “I was wondering what happened to you.”

“Oh,” you shifted your weight onto your other foot, “dead battery. I think it was the door light.”

Your dad nodded a little, “Do you need someone to pick up your car?”

“Got a jump from a friend.” Not a friend, not really, but you supposed it was the closest you’d come to one in the last four years. That was just a little too sad to say out loud.

“Good.” He nodded again, “Good.”

You nodded because it seemed like the only thing to do and slipped towards the hallway. You’d taken no less than five steps out of the kitchen when your dad said, “You could call me. Next time, you could call me.”

Maybe. Maybe you could if he would look at you.

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