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honeys-hotties · 4 months

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I Don't Deserve You-Julien Baker x Reader

my first julien baker fic, because the jb brainrot is SO REAL i love her with my whole heart

jb x fem!reader

angst but happy ending (have i ever written anything without angst??) anyways! as always, this is all made up!! jb is a little mean in this one, and in real life i am so sure she would never act like this

word cout: 2222 <3

After a horrifically unproductive day at the studio, all Julien wants to do when she gets back to her house is sleep for approximately 17 hours. The clock on the wall reads 6:13 when she drops her jacket on the couch, completely forgetting about the dirty breakfast dishes she had promised you she would clean up that morning. You had an obnoxiously early start that morning, but wanting to see you before you left for work, Julien had woken up and you two had made breakfast together.

“I’m so sorry I don’t have time to clean everything up,” you had whispered apologetically, perched atop the counter while Julien stood between your legs. “If you could put everything away before you go to the studio for me please baby? And I can make us dinner tonight? I shouldn’t be too late? I think they were saying 7:00 wrap tonight? So I’ll be home by 7:45 at the latest.” Julien had agreed, if mostly to quiet her excited girlfriend so she could get a few kisses in before you left, but had gone back upstairs and fallen asleep after you were gone. She had slept through her alarm, and in her panic to get to the studio on time had forgotten to clean the kitchen.

Julien walked up the stairs, pushing the door to their bedroom open and falling face-first onto the large, unmade bed, and immediately passing out. She sleeps peacefully for about an hour and a half, until the slamming of the front door startles her awake. Rubbing her eyes irritatedly, Julien sits up in the darkened bedroom, a headache growing behind her eyes.

“Babe?” She hears you call from downstairs. “Where are you?” Grumbling to herself, Julien sits up and stretches, her back popping from the movements. You pad up the stairs, and poke your head into the bedroom, smiling at the sight of your tired girlfriend. “Good nap?” you ask softly, walking towards the bed and sitting down next to Julien, who wraps her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, resting her head in your lap.

“Yeah, baby.” Julien hums. “Really good nap.”

You laugh softly, stroking Julien’s hair in your lap. “I’m glad, babe. You’ve been working yourself to death recently. How was the studio today?”

Julien rolls her eyes, sitting up abruptly. “I really don’t want to talk about work right now.” She says, irritated. Your eyes widen slightly, shocked by your girlfriend’s sharp tone, but ultimately chalking it up to her exhaustion. “Oh, okay. I’m sorry, Jules. I can go start dinner, if you want to nap a little longer?”

Julien looks at you guiltily. “I’m sorry, princess.” She pulls you into her lap, kissing your forehead repeatedly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I love you.” You laugh quietly, relishing in the comfort of Julien’s arms, the kisses being pressed to your face.

“It’s okay baby. I get it. Want to come start on dinner with me?”

Julien nods, and follows like a puppy after you, down the stairs and into the kitchen. Julien is so lost in thought that when you stop abruptly in front of her at the sight of the kitchen, Julien smacks directly into you, knocking you forward a couple of steps.

“Whoa princess, what’re you doin’?” She asks, reaching out to steady you. You swat her hands away, turning to face Julien with an unamused expression on your face. “Hey,” Julien takes a step back. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to bump into you, I swear, I just wasn’t expecting you to stop there…” she trails off at the look on your face. “What?”

“The kitchen, JB.” You say, gesturing to the dirty dishes behind you. “You promised you would clean up this morning, remember? I specifically asked if you could take care of it this morning so it wouldn’t be a problem tonight, and you told me not to worry, that you would clean up before you left.”

Julien rolls her eyes, her girlfriend’s irritation only adding to her bad mood. “Seriously, babe? You barely see me all day, and now you’re getting mad because I didn’t do the dishes? So I wanted to get some extra sleep this morning? Don’t you think I fuckin’ deserve it? I work so damn hard, I deserve a break, and having you flipping out on me isn’t helpful, baby.” Her tone is biting, her words harsh, and she barely notices the tears glazing over her girlfriend’s eyes.

“I work hard too, Julien!” You grit out. “Just because I’m not some incredible singer doesn’t mean I don’t work hard, doesn’t mean I’m not exhausted when I get home. You told me you would clean up and you didn’t, I don’t understand why you’re getting so defensive-”

“Exactly!” Julien yells. “You don’t understand. You have no idea what it’s like to have this pressure on your shoulders every goddamn second, the eyes of so many people, waiting for you to fuck up. But guess fucking what, princess? The world doesn’t revolve around you.” She stalks closer to you, her voice loud. “You have no idea what I’m dealing with, how exhausted I am constantly, how hard I’m working. So I forgot to do the dishes once? So what? Look at everything I do for you, everything I bring to the table, versus you, and then try to tell me off again, princess.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, Julien wishes she could take them back. You look like you’ve been slapped across the face, and the unshed tears in your eyes finally begin to fall. You let out a choked sob, backing away from Julien who, in her anger, had cornered you against the table.

“Wait, baby…I didn’t…” but it’s too late. The damage is done.

“You’re right, Julien,” You manage. “I don’t know what it’s like. Maybe you should find someone who understands you, because obviously I never could.”

“No, princess, please-” Julien starts, before you cut her off.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You snap. “I’m not your ‘princess’, I’m not your ‘baby’, I’m not your ‘doll’, I’m not anything to you, apparently.”

“No, please. You’re everything to me, I swear, I was just being mean because I’m tired, please, I didn’t mean it” Julien’s eyes fill with tears. You turn away from her. “I think you should leave, Julien. Before you say something else you ‘don’t mean’”.

“No, please, you know I can’t leave when we’re fighting, we have to fix things, please let me fix things.”

You turn to her, tears streaming down your face. “I don’t know if you can fix this, Julien. I’ve put up with a lot of your shit, when you snap at me because you’ve had long days at the studio and I let it slide, when you chainsmoke because you’re stressed and I hold my tongue because I don’t want to make you more upset, when you make my problems feel small because I’m not part of some huge band. I don’t know if I can do this anymore. It’s not fair to me.”

Julien drops to her knees in front of you, reaching gently for your hands. “Please let me fix this” she cries softly. “Please, my love. I will do anything to make it up to you. Anything.” You pull your hands from Julien’s grasp.

“I’m going to bed” you say, brokenly. “Just, wash the dishes, please.”

“I love you” Julien calls out after you, watching you retreat up the stairs. “Baby, I-I love you.” You say nothing, and as soon as you disappear up the stairs, Julien breaks down in tears. She sits on the kitchen floor and cries, cries because she thinks she might have just ruined the best thing in her life. Julien cries for what feels like either ten minutes or ten hours, until she has no tears left and her sobs turn into pathetic sniffles. Eventually, she stands up and finds her phone, calling the only two people she trusts to help her fix her relationship. Phoebe and Lucy both pick up almost immediately, and listen dutifully as Julien fills them in on the fight while she tries to tidy up the kitchen.

“Wow” Phoebe manages when Julien finishes the story. “Julien, fuck, I don’t know what to say.”

“I do,” Lucy chimes in. “You fucked up. Big time. Like, I don’t even know how you fucked up this badly.”

“That’s really helpful, Luce.” Julien retorts. “Now, how do I fix things? She’s the best thing in my life, and I can’t do this without her.”

“I think you and her need to have a really serious conversation about your relationship and what she expects of you” Phoebe says seriously. “It sounds like you’ve been neglecting her, however unintentionally, taking her for granted. She’s put up with it for long enough, JB, and honestly, she deserves better. I love you and I’m here for you no matter what, but you’re in the wrong here, babe.”

“You guys will work it out, but just try to understand where she’s coming from. You’ve got a pretty short fuse when you’re stressed,” Lucy adds. “I know you both and I know how much love you have for each other. Just, talk things through with her, see it from her point of view.”

“Okay. I’ll try. And you’re right, she deserves better. I’ll do my best to try harder for her, to be more attentive and more patient for her. I love her so much.”

“We know,” Lucy says. “We love you both so much, and I know you two will work it out. It’s hard right now, but you’re going to come out on the other side of this so much stronger as a couple.”

“Tell her we say hi, and call us tomorrow with updates, okay JB. We love you.” Phoebe says, bringing a small smile to Julien’s face.

“I will. Thank you guys, I love you both so much.” Julien disconnects the call and wipes down the counter, before turning off the kitchen lights and heading upstairs. Her footsteps grow soft as she reaches the door to your shared bedroom, and she pushes the door open softly, her heart breaking at the sight of you curled up on the bed, eyes red and puffy.

“I don’t want to talk right now, Julien.” You say quietly, your voice raspy.

“Will you listen then, baby? Just, I have a few things I want to say to you, to apologize for, and then you can kick me out, okay?” Julien asks hopefully, walking slowly towards the bed. You sit up wordlessly, gesturing for Julien to go ahead.

“Um, okay. Here goes. Baby, I’m so, so fucking sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been so tired and stressed lately. And I know that’s not an excuse. I just want to tell you where I’m coming from. That gives me zero right to take it out on you, though. And I’m so sorry because through everything, you’ve been here for me. You’ve stuck with me, through good and bad, no matter what. And I’ve been taking you for granted, which is so unfair to you, and you deserve so much better than me. You deserve someone who listens to you and values your opinions, someone who loves you so much they can’t stand the thought of life without you. Someone who knows how hard you work, someone who is always there for you, someone who is patient and protective and treats you like a queen. I want to be that person for you, if you’ll let me. I want to show you how incredible you are and tell you every day for the rest of our lives how much I adore you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to imagine my life without you. I know I don’t deserve you, but please, give me another chance. You make my life worth living, you make everything better. I love you more than I can ever say, but if you want me, I will spend the rest of our lives proving how much I love you.” By the end of her speech, you're sobbing.

“Oh, fuck, baby, doll, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Shut up and kiss me” You cut her off, and Julien’s eyes widen at your statement. “I, what?”

“You heard me,” you laughed, your throat still choked with tears. “Kiss me, Julien.” Without hesitating, Julien surges forward and connects your lips in a searing kiss. She can taste the salt of your tears mixing with her own, and when she finally breaks away, she rests her forehead against yours, gently wiping your tears away. “I love you” she whispers. “And I don’t deserve you. But I love you so much. And I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” you say. “But I don’t want to talk about that right now. I’m tired. Let’s go to sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”

Julien presses her lips to yours once more. “You’re the boss, princess. I’ll start making it up to you first thing tomorrow.”

“You better.” You say, letting out a watery chuckle, cuddling into her. “And I have a few ideas for how you can start.”

honey's notes: to anyone reading this right now, i love you you're amazing, all the forehead kisses in the world for you! this fic was so fun to write, lmk if i should write more for jb or the boys!

love always, honey

#julien baker x reader #julien baker #boygenius #phoebe bridgers #lucy dacus #honey writes #angst with a happy ending

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dumblilb · 6 months

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Me @ Ellie Williams

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams angst #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #phoebe bridgers #graceland too #punisher phoebe bridgers #boygenius #julien baker #lucy dacus

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loomontoia · 8 months

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but you are holding me like water in your hands

(...) but you know the killer doesn't understand

#this is not a ship post #at all #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #clint barton x natasha romanoff #they are platonic soulmates #clintasha #oh the angst #i drew that while listening to moon song by phoebe bridgers #marvel #fanart #marvel comics #mcu fandom

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beskarandblasters · 11 months

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Waiting Room

No Outbreak!Joel x F!Reader

Inspired by Waiting Room by Phoebe Bridgers

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: After spending two years at a local community college you’re getting ready to transfer to a four year school away from home and have the “true college experience”. That is until Joel Miller, a 30 year old single dad, moves across the street and you find yourself fixated on him.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, age gap relationship (10 years), fingering, vaginal sex, reader is on birth control, no mentions of physical description of reader besides the fact that she has hair and is shorter than Joel (doesn’t specify by how much), angst

“If you were a teacher, I would fail your class

Take it over and over 'til you noticed me

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed”

“What a beautiful ceremony,” your mom says as your dad pulls onto the freeway.

“It was alright, I guess. It’s just community college, mom,” you sigh.

“Community college is still something to be celebrated,” your dad chimes in, looking at you in the rearview mirror.

You don’t respond. You lean against the window and let out a small sigh. The end of community college meant one thing; leaving home and going to school. You’re going to the University of Houston which is roughly three hours away from home. Albeit, not too far away but you’re excited to have the true college experience. You’re hoping to make new friends and hopefully meet someone. You had a boyfriend in high school but that was it. Dating is hard when you’re a commuter student who lives at home. But that’s all about to change.

You think about your new life come the end of the summer the whole drive home, not really paying attention to what your parents were saying. But you’re snapped out of your thoughts when your dad turns onto your street and your mom says, “Look, honey. The neighbor across the street is moving in today.”

You look over and see a man standing by a truck in his driveway, holding a baby on his hip. Your dad slows the car down and stops at the end of his driveway. Your mom rolls down the window and says, “Hi! We live across the street. It’s nice to meet you.”

Your mom tells him your names and he smiles at you. You make eye contact but look away quickly, feeling shy.

“I’m Joel Miller. And this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says.

“Let me park the car and we’ll come over and say hi properly,” your dad says.

You groan slightly. You’re not really in the mood to socialize right now. But before you can protest your mom opens the car door and motions for you to get out. The three of you walk over to Joel’s driveway and shake hands.

“I see someone graduated today,” Joel says, commenting on your graduation gown.

“Oh it’s nothing special,” you say, looking down at your feet, “It’s just community college.”

“She’ll be going to the University of Houston in the fall,” your mom says.

“Going away to school, huh? That’s when the real fun begins,” Joel says.

You look up from your feet and look at him. He shoots you a wink and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

“If you need anything at all let us know,” your mom says.

“Thank you, ma’am. I guess I should get this one down for a nap. I’ll see you guys later,” he says smiling at you.

Before he turns to go inside you get a good look at him in the sun, lighting up his features. You look at his form and his arm wrapped around Sarah. He looks strong and muscular, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. Before you can ogle him anymore he’s back inside his house and your parents start walking home. You turn and shake your head a little before following them.

You don’t see Joel again for another week. During that time you were a little disappointed but you couldn’t put your finger on why. It’s around four o’clock and you’re just about to finish your routine walk and head home when you see Joel on the opposite side of the street heading towards you.

“Hey there!” he says, walking over to you. His gray shirt clings to him with patches of sweat. He must be on a run.

“Hey, Joel… On a run?”

“Yeah, just squeezing one in before I pick up Sarah from daycare. Do you normally walk in the neighborhood around this time?”

Has he been watching you?

“Yeah… I guess I do.”

“We could walk together if you want. I get home from work early sometimes and have time to kill before I go get Sarah.”

Why is he being so nice to you? You’re not used to men taking an interest in you, much less men like Joel.

“Sure. Same time tomorrow?” you ask before turning to your driveway.

“Sure thing. See you tomorrow!” he calls before heading inside.

The next day rolls around and you walk to the end of your driveway, waiting for Joel. You feel butterflies in your stomach and your legs feel like jelly.

Stop. He just moved here. He’s probably lonely, you think to yourself.

You see his front door open. Once Joel spots you waiting his face breaks into a smile. You give him a small wave and meet him in the street.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod and start walking. It’s a bit awkward at first. You don’t really know what to say. You think about the neighborhood; people watching you two from their front windows and wondering what business you have being together.

“You okay, sweets?”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. The nickname. Where did that come from?

“I guess I’m just nervous is all.”

“Why’s that, sweets?”

“I’m not sure… I guess I’m just worried about what the neighborhood will think… seeing us together.”

“We’re just on a walk. But if you want we could always head back to my place. Are your folks home?”

Your heart leaps at the thought of being in his house alone with him. But not in a bad way. You want that so badly. You want nothing more than to spend alone time with him while he calls you cute pet names.

“No they won’t be home until after six… After this street we could go to your house if you want…”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll follow your lead.”

You both go silent again. You pick up the pace a little, eager to make it back to his house already. When you reach his driveway he leads you inside and says, “Make yourself at home. You want a glass of lemonade, sweets? It was a scorcher out there today.”

“Uh, sure,” you say, sitting down on his couch gingerly.

After a moment, he returns to the living room and sets two glasses down on the coffee table. You sit there in silence, awkwardly sipping your lemonade, waiting for him to say something.

“So why do I make you nervous, sweets?”

“I guess… I’m just confused as to why someone like you would be interested in someone like me.”

He falls silent. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he wasn’t actually into you. Maybe he was just being friendly. He sets his glass down on the coffee table and leans closer to you.

“Someone like me?” he asks.

“You know… someone older, someone… cooler. Someone attractive.”

The words were just slipping out.

“So you find me attractive?” he presses further. You’re facing each other now, trying so hard to read his facial expression and body language.

“I… Yes. Yes, I do,” you admit.

“Wow. Didn’t think a pretty girl like you would be into an old man like me.”

You stare at him with wide eyes, in disbelief that he just said that; that he just called you pretty. Your face feels hot and your head feels fuzzy. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips against, half expecting him to pull away. But he doesn’t. In fact, he melts into your touch, pulling you closer. His hands find your hair. You’re feeling brave now. Not only did you kiss Joel Miller first but he pulled you closer. You brush your tongue against his lips and he hums into the kiss, parting his lips slightly to let you gain access. He tastes sweet from the lemonade he was just drinking. He pushes against you lightly, coaxing you to lay down the couch. He decides he wants his tongue in your mouth now, pressing it against yours. You part your mouth as he explores it with his tongue. You whimper a little bit underneath him, making him moan into your mouth. You want more. You can’t get enough of him. You reach your hand down to the waistband of his pants but he pulls away.

“Let’s save that for next time, sweets.

He wants a next time, you think to yourself.

You nod and he kisses your forehead. You stay there like that for a moment, underneath him and staring into each other's eyes.

“I guess I should get home,” you say.

He nods and pulls himself off of you. You stand up and try to fix the back of your hair, a little matted from your couch make out session. You get nervous for a second, worried about what the neighbors will think seeing you leave Joel’s all frazzled.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asks, leading you to the door.

“Actually… Can we walk somewhere else? Maybe the park… and maybe a little bit later? Maybe around 6:30?”

You wince, worried that he’s going to be offended that you don't want to be seen with him. But he’s not.

“Sure thing, sweets. I’ll see if my brother, Tommy, can watch Sarah after work. Wanna meet me there?”

“Sure… See you tomorrow, Joel,” you say, reaching for the door handle.

But before you can leave he grabs you by the waist and kisses you again, catching you off guard.

He pulls away and says, “One for the road.”

“I literally live across the street,” you laugh.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, pressing a kiss on your forehead, “See you tomorrow, sweets.”

He lets go of you and you leave. You feel his eyes on you as you walk home. You reach your front door and you turn around to get one last look at his house. To your surprise he’s still there. You give each other a small wave before you go inside. You close the door behind you and lean against it, smiling like an idiot. You go to your room and think about what you’re going to wear tomorrow.

After a while you hear your mom come home.

“How was your day, honey?” she calls to you.

“Really great actually…”

“That’s good to hear,” she says.

You smile to yourself, thinking about how she doesn’t know the reason why. It feels good to have a little secret like this. You go to bed that night finding yourself unable to sleep. You’re too busy thinking about seeing Joel tomorrow.

You wake up for the day and hope it goes by fast. Between making a shopping list for school, picking out your outfit and eating lunch the day doesn’t drag on too long. You get ready and put on a blue and white floral dress with white converse. Not really ideal for going on a walk but you’re hoping it’ll be more than that.

You go to grab your keys to leave but you decide to leave a note for your parents. You make up some lie about getting ice cream and seeing a movie with some friends from high school that were home for the summer. You leave the note on the kitchen counter and leave, getting in your car to drive to the park. The whole drive to the park you’re nervous. You never even confirmed if the plan was still on; if Sarah could go to Tommy’s. You decide that you’ll wait until six before going home. You pull into the parking lot and wait, twiddling your thumbs and switching between radio stations. After a while you see Joel’s black truck pull in and feel relieved. The park is a little dead today which makes you feel relieved even more. You get out of your car to meet him and he immediately greets you with a kiss.

He pulls away and says, “How was your day, sweets?”

“Just got a little better,” you reply, smiling at him.

“Only a little? After tonight you’ll think differently,” he teases.

You walk around the park together as it gets darker and darker. He tells you he’s a contractor. He tells you about his daughter and how her mom left them soon after she was born. You tell him about school but you choose to not talk about leaving in the fall… He listens to you and makes you feel seen; makes you feel wanted. You haven’t known him that long at all but you can feel yourself falling for him.

Eventually you two are the only ones left at the park as the sun starts to set. You’re sitting on a bench, thighs pressed together. The anticipation in the air is heavy as both of you know what you want. You want him to act on it first. You turn to look up at him and as if he reads your mind he caresses your face and kisses you. You press against him more, turning the kiss into full blown making out.

He pulls back and whispers against your ear, “Wanna go back to the truck, sweets?”

You nod and rise from the bench. He keeps a hand on the small of your back on the walk back to the truck. He opens the door to the backseat and you slide in as he follows and closes the door behind him. He wastes no time kissing you again, but this time he pulls you into his lap. You grind your hips against him as his hands roam your thighs. His calloused hands from manual labor contrast with your soft skin. It reminds you how much of a man he is. You feel his fingers tugging at the seam of your underwear so you spread your legs a bit wider. His fingers tease your entrance making you moan against him. He brings his fingers to his lips to moisten them but before he can slide one in you stop him.

“Joel… I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, sweets?”

“I’ve… never had an orgasm before.”

“Oh baby I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

He slides a finger into your already wet cunt. You rest your head on the back of the seat beside his head and close your eyes in pleasure. He was right; you already feel good. And just off of one finger. He curls in against your walls as you whimper beside his ear. He inserts another finger and you feel yourself expand to accommodate how wide they are. He pumps them in and out of you faster and faster. You feel yourself get close to the edge. And that’s when he brings his thumb to your clit rubbing small, fast circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Cum on my fingers, sweets. Let me feel it.”

You whimper and nod against him, so close but not quite there yet. He curls fingers up against your g-spot in a “come here” motion and that’s when you cum hard. Your release drips down to his wrist, leaving it completely soaked. You moan his name over and over again as you ride out your high, grinding against his hand in the process as he whispers words of praise against your ear.

“You did so good, baby.”

You move your head to look him in the eye after you finish coming, his fingers still inside you.

“Thank you, Joel.”

“I’m glad I could help, baby.”

You kiss him as he pulls his fingers out, whining at the sudden absence inside you. He pulls away and brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you, closing his eyes as he does.

“You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

You reach your hand between your legs and rub where his cock was straining against the fabric of his pants. He pulls his cock out and gathers more of your release, spreading it on his cock in preparation to fuck you.

“You ready for me, sweets?”

You nod and lower yourself onto him, feeling his cock spread you apart. You stay still for a moment, letting yourself get adjusted to his size and looking into each other's eyes. After getting comfortable you grind yourself against him, hitting you in the most perfect angles. He hands grip your waist as he looks up at you while you fuck yourself on his cock. You feel yourself getting close again; your walls tensing up around him.

“That’s it, baby. Cum again for me,” he says, looking you in the eye.

You cunt pulses and flutters around him as you cum again, ripping through your core. Your hands find his hair as you finish coming, also sending him to the edge. His hands move to your hips to pull you off of him, but you bring a hand to his chest and say, “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” He nods and you grind against him once more. He shoots his load into you, coating your insides with his warm release.

You both stay there pressed against each other and panting. The inside of the truck is steamy, condensation hanging on the windows. You look at each other with sweaty faces and pupils blown wide. You kiss again, not needing to say any words about what just happened; you both feel the same way.

“I wanna be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better”

And so the rest of the summer you and Joel mess around, finding places to fuck where no one would suspect a thing. Your parents are none the wiser at first but eventually you start to run out of excuses. Joel’s brother, Tommy, on the other hand sensed that something was there from the beginning but chose to look the other way. He’s happy to see that Joel is enjoying himself again after Sarah’s mom left but he worries that you’re too young and naive for Joel. And throughout the whole summer Joel never puts a label on what you are despite how badly you want to be official. But it’s not smart. Not when you’re sneaking around behind your parents back and not when you’re about to go away to school. But the truth is you love him so much and you’ve never told him.

It’s the night before you’re about to leave and you’re laying in the bed of Joel’s truck. He decided to make this time special, bringing you somewhere with less light pollution so you can stargaze and lining the truck bed with pillows and blankets.

He’s between your thighs, cock buried deep in your cunt as he fucks you relentlessly. You try to take a mental image of him above him above you with the starry night sky behind him. You never want this to end. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming around him, gripping his cock like a vice. He paints your walls with thick ropes of cum, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He pulls out if you and collapses next to you, pulling you against him.

“I’m gonna miss you, Joel,” you say into the crook of his neck.

“I’m gonna miss you too, sweets,” he says, running a hand through your hair.

You look up at the stars as you lay against him, tears springing in your eyes as you think about leaving him. You both lay there talking about anything but tomorrow. But soon enough it gets late and you have to get home. You have a three hour drive ahead of you tomorrow. You slip on your clothes and get out of the truck bed, dragging your feet to the front. The drive home is silent, both of you not knowing what to say. But as he pulls up to your house he stops you before you can get out. He leans over and kisses you passionately before whispering against your ear, “One for the road”.

You feel tears sting your eyes again as you get out of the truck.

“Goodbye, Joel,” you say, closing the door behind you. Tears are rolling down your face now as you walk to the front door, stopping to turn around and watch him pull into his driveway.

The drive to school the next day was dreadful. Realistically you should be excited about this; it’s all you ever wanted. But you’re missing Joel. You hadn’t exactly talked about what would happen with you two once you left.

The move in goes alright. Your parents stick around a bit too long, just wanting to make sure you’re going to be alright. Luckily, you have a single on the off chance Joel comes to see you. But that seems few and far between. You’re three hours away and he has Sarah at home. When is he ever gonna have the time to come see you?

Two weeks pass and you don’t hear from Joel. He knows how to reach you. He has your phone number and you have his. But you’re too nervous to call him first.

“I wanna make you drive all night

Just because I said, "Maybe you should come over"

Wanna make you fall in love as hard as my poor parent's teenage daughter

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her”

That is until one Friday night when you come back from a frat party drunk out of your mind. Your feelings get the best of you and you call Joel. His gruff voice answers with, “Sweets?”

“Joellll I miss youuuu,” you say, slurring your words.

“I miss you too, sweets. Are you alright?”

“I just came back from a party,” you whisper.

He chuckles, “I’m glad you’re having fun, sweets.”

“You should come over,” you whine.

“You serious?”

“Mhmmm.”

He sighs, feeling conflicted before answering, “Fine. I’ll leave in an hour. I just have to bring Sarah to Tommy’s.”

“Thank you, Joel. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither, sweets. See you soon,” he says before hanging up.

You fall into bed, sleeping the best you’ve slept in a while knowing that Joel will be there in the morning.

You awake to your phone ringing. You roll over and look at the contact and see that it’s Joel. You pick up and he says, “Alright sweets I’m here. What building?”

“Building 2A. I’ll meet you outside,” say before hanging up.

You rush to get changed and smooth down your hair. You leave your room to go meet him, anxious to see him again even though it’s only been two weeks. You leave the building and step out onto the quad and see him there standing in the middle of the grass, hands in his pockets. His face brightens as he sees you. You run over to him and wrap your arm around it. It all feels like a movie.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you say into his chest.

You feel his arms embrace you as he says, “Missed you too, sweets. You wanna let me inside your dorm? I feel like I’m getting weird looks.”

You pull away and look around to see handfuls of students sitting on picnic blankets in the grass. Some of them were looking at you two, some weren’t. Regardless they were all freshmen and sophomores judging by the looks of them. And they weren’t used to seeing a thirty year old man standing in the middle of the quad. You take his hand and lead him back to your building, signing him in before you take him to your room.

“Wow, no roommate, huh?” he says.

“Nope,” you say, giving him a smirk.

That was all he needed. His lips come crashing against yours and his large hands envelope your face. He pushes you back towards your bed across the room and you oblige, falling down on it so he can hover over you. He presses sloppy, wet kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at the soft skin ever so slightly. He pulls off your sweatpants and trails his hand from your knee and up your thigh. You spread your legs open for him, wanting him inside you already. He stands for a moment to pull off his pants and shirt as you take in his naked body before removing your own shirt. He takes one look at you and says, “Already so wet for me, sweets,” as he rubs his fingers along your entrance. He collects some of your wetness on his hands and slathers his already hard cock before thrusting in slowly. Even though it’s only been two weeks since you last had him you had to get adjusted to his size for a moment, holding your breath as your walls expanded around him. You exhale and he thrusts in you harder, picking up your thighs with his hands and learning down, folding you in half. This angle is intense for you and you never last long with it. He slams his hips into you, filling the room with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin and your own moans. You’re sure anyone on either side of you can hear right now but you’re too blissed out to care. He thrusts into you one last time and you come undone around him, your cunt fluttering on his cock. The sensation of your release makes him cum too and you’re filled with the familiar feeling of his cum shooting into you. He pulls out and lays down next to you on your shitty dorm room mattress, holding you as you close your eyes and melt into him.

“How was the drive?” you ask after a moment.

“Uh, not terrible,” he says.

“… Maybe we could do this more often?” you say, nervous to hear his response.

“Maybe, sweets,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “But I can’t stay that long, baby. Tommy can’t watch Sarah that much longer.”

“Okay… How much longer do you have?”

“Probably another hour until I have to leave.”

You nod and lay back down against him, sadness washing over you again. You lay there together catching up until he has to go. You tell him how school is going and he tells you how home is. He checked on your parents after you left, making sure they weren’t too upset in your absence and you thank him for that. But the talking comes to an end as he gets to get dressed. Before he leaves you kiss him and say, “I love you, Joel,” not really expecting an answer back. Which you don’t get. He kisses you again and says “Bye, sweets.” You spend the rest of the day in bed, feeling emptier than ever.

And now you’ve sort of fallen into a routine with Joel where you call him to come over. And he does when he can. Normally you just have sex and lay in bed together. Occasionally you’ll go out for breakfast before he has to go back but that’s as far as dates go for you. He can never stay for more than a few hours with Sarah at home. You start to feel hopeless with the whole situation. You wanted more than this; you wanted a real relationship and he just can’t give it to you. He hasn’t said I love you back at this point either and you’re growing frustrated. You’re in college with a sea of available men and you’re pining for the thirty year old dad who’s three hours away. You decide that if the opportunity comes along for someone else, you’re not going to pass it up.

It’s November now, right before Thanksgiving break. You called Joel in your drunken stupor the night prior but he didn’t pick up. At this point you can’t take it anymore; you’re done with being strung along. You always thought to yourself if he’s driving three hours a couple times a week to come see me, he must love me right? But you never get any confirmation.

You’re pacing back and forth in the lobby of your building, your mind is going in a thousand different directions. You’ve barely been able to focus on school during all of this and the friends you’ve made so far have noticed a change in you. You’re spiraling, wondering why you even put yourself in this situation to begin with.

But you’re snapped from your thoughts when the cute guy from your philosophy class taps you on the shoulder. You turn to look at him. He seems nervous.

“Oh, hi,” you say, feeling shy. The only man you’ve really interacted with at this point has been Joel and you’re not used to talking to someone new.

“Hey, um I’m Sean. We’re in Philosophy 315 together.”

“Yes I remember you. How are you doing?”

“I'm good… I was just wondering… After the break did you want to go out sometime?”

Fuck it. Why not? You have someone here in front of you telling you directly that he wants to take you out.

“Sure,” you say, pulling out a piece of paper and writing your number on it, “Call me when break is over, okay?”

He takes the piece of paper from you and nods. But behind him you notice Joel who just witnessed everything. He doesn’t say anything, turning on his heel and leaving.

“Would you excuse me?” you say to Sean before running out of the building, not waiting for a response. You follow Joel all the way to his truck before he turns around and asks, “What the fuck was that?!”

“He asked me to go out. Big fucking deal.”

“And you said yes?!”

“Why not? I’m getting really sick and tired of this. You don’t get to continue fucking me after I tell you I love you when you don’t say it back. You don’t think I’m not going to try and move on?”

He sighs. He realizes he’s in the wrong. But instead of confirming his love for you he says, “Sweets, I don’t think this is working out for us anymore. You’re away at college like you’ve always wanted to be… and I think you deserve the full experience… with someone your own age.”

Tears spring to your eyes and he grabs your hands. Deep down you know he’s right. You know this is for the better.

“I know, Joel. I’ve been thinking about this too… it’s for the better.”

“It is, sweets,” he says, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he continues, “It was wrong of me to string you along like this.

You nod against him, your tears staining his shirt. He caresses your face and gives you one last kiss.

“One for the road,” he murmurs against your ear.

He gets back in his truck and you walk back to the edge of the parking lot. You turn to watch him leave, tears rolling down your face. You watch him until he’s out of sight. You sigh and walk back to your building, feeling a weird mixture of sadness and relief. It was for the better.

“I never grew up with you

And you're not my waiting room”

End note: I hope you liked the lyric header with Phoebe's handwriting!!! Love my queen🖤 Let me know if this ripped out your heart like it did to mine 😍 xoxo

Tag list: @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @tieronecrush @dinsdjrn @bearsbeetsbeskar @jksprincess10 @readingfan @pedritosdarling @pedgeitopascalreads @littlemisspascal @mydailyhyperfixations @dreamingofdaddydin @pr0ximamidnight @theelishad @marchai @love-the-abyss @bongsrconfusing @squidwardstikiland111 @megangovier20 @hiddenbabynyc @mingiast @lovelyladiess @iwrotethissky @dojacatswink @morgaussy @lettsbequiet @harriedandharassed @juniperandthornz @moriartyyouwhore @shroomers-goomers @generaldumb @casa-boiardi @djarins-wife @pedrostories @babeincolor @readingfan @thefemininemystiquee

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller angst #joel miller #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal characters #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfic #waiting room #waiting room phoebe bridgers #pedrostories

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wilhelmsbee · 25 days

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now the wind is high, and the reign is heavy.

#ellieeditposting #young royals #young royals edit #wilmon #wilmon edit #young royals season 2 #young royals s2 #young royals s1 #young royals season 1 #young royals season 3 #young royals s3 #wilmon angst #wilmon angst edit #simon x wille #wilmon x phoebe bridgers #wilmon x it’ll all work out

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hellsburners · 10 months

Note

Hi!

So I just saw your post, and I wanna request tasm peter with this angst prompt "maybe it's best to end this"

You stood in front of a wounded man. A hand clutched your chest, a grip so tight you felt nails digging into skin. You thought that holding your chest would ease the pain in your heart. That it’ll ease the sting, or dry up the tears welling from your eyes. He’d look up to you, eyes the same as yours. He’d inch closer, his gait shifting, but you’d fall back. How can someone love a wounded man?

It was the same every night, he’d knock at your window, clothes torn, bruises all over his body, dried blood all over. And tomorrow you’re expected to cook breakfast and act like nothing happened. He’d ask if you’re okay. Okay? you thought. You could’ve died, Peter.

You stayed silent looking down. Your heart was racing, aching, beating like it was about to jump off your rib cage. Your hands were clammy, your knees felt like they were about to break, the weight of the world on your shoulders. He held your hand, it was cold and shaking. He’d try to soothe it with his touch but it won't work.

Everynight I would stare at the window, waiting for you to come, or if you’ll ever come home at all, and—I feel sick. I genuinely feel so sick I feel like I’d die. And I know why you’re doing this and I love you because of that heart of yours but I’m–, tears fall down from your cheeks, the words breaking in between sobs. I’m tired, Pete.

Peter saw this one coming. He noticed the way your worry started to become resentment. Not at him, no you could never, but at the other guy, the mask. You felt that it was always a part of your relationship, the third guy. He wished to ask a question. A question he knew would change everything. That everything you experienced with him will be gone, and that you’ll soon forget about him, but at least by then you will find peace.

Maybe it’s best if we–, you took the words out of his mouth. You look up to him, eye to eye. End this, you’d say after, with a finality that cut him deeper than any of the fresh wounds on his body right now. You were now fully sobbing, your palms cupping your face, the tears flowing non stop.

He wished he could wipe all your tears away, and hug all the pain. He thought of a thousand ways to say sorry nothing would come through his lips. I love you, he said. The words still held so much weight on you. You almost felt like vomiting. Your head is dizzy, not a word coming to your head to scream. You still loved him that would never change, you thought. But no love can ever soothe the pain you were feeling.

You both laid in bed that night, crying in each other’s arms. One last night together. He’d whisper something to you before you drifted off. If I could change everything I would.

You wake up to an empty bed and any trace of him gone, his stuff, the pictures, the notes on the fridge. He thought that if you had a clean slate it would be easier. Leave out all the spaces he had occupied and make room for someone else to fill in. Someone worth all the tears. Whatever was left on your bed was his wet pillow, tears-soaked.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker angst #peter parker drabble #peter parker blurb #woah this was hard to write #i listened to a lot of motion sickness by phoebe bridgers btw #i hate you #for what you did #and i miss you like a little kid #anyways enjoy send me more prompts if you liked it

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vauxxy · 2 months

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luke castellan is chinese satellite by phoebe bridgers proof ‼️

little spoiler for the sea of monsters!!

younger luke, maybe pre or post- scar.

he wants to believe the gods are there and listening and that things are gonna be okay, but they aren’t. and he hates it.

while they’re up in olympus, he’s at camp. one of his best friends got turnt into a tree, there’s dozens of unclaimed children running around him, and the gods simply don’t care.

he feels nothing. but he wants to be wrong.

pre-kronos, but still at camp half-blood.

THIS BITCH IS SCREAMING AT THE EVANGELICALS. HE WILL NEVER BE THEIR VEGETABLE !!

luke cannot even trust anyone anymore. they’re all worshipping their parents as if they care, as if they’re protecting them. but they’re not; and if they are, then why isn’t hermes’ protecting him?

why did herme’s send him on a dumbass quest for no good reason, returning with a scar and a new complex? this is his fault, and luke will be damned if he ever lets himself become a pawn in the god’s game ever again.

post-kronos luke.

kronos is in his brain, and he knows he will never sleep peacefully again. gone are the comforting walls of the hermes cabin, the sound of his half siblings sleeping soundly beside him, the feel of his old bedsheets.

but despite the war in his head and the pit in his stomach, he still has a fraction of hope. hope that his dad is there.

it’s stupid and gullible- he knows is unrealistic. but if it wasn’t true, then how come hermes told percy, annabeth and tyson to speak some sense into him?

how come his dad tricked them into boarding princess andromeda? does he still care?

but then he remembers his poor mother. and he realises that it’s impossible.

#luke castellan angst #luke castellan drabbles #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #chinese satellite #phoebe bridgers #songfic #pjo disney+#pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo spoilers #pjo

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brandogenius · 2 months

Note

phoebe with reader who is in her band

OO!!

‼️RPF‼️

HC - phoebe x reader - in her band

- i’d like to imagine there’s a type of secret relationship going on here ykyk?

- reader plays bass in live phoebes band

- fans know phoebe and you in particular are pretty close. you have your own instagram dedicated to music and on phoebes solo tour

- fans start to speculate when they see you posting something on instagram and you’re wearing the same necklace that phoebe wore once

- people like passing it off like “y’all they share it you can share jewllery”

- phoebe preforming at say eras tour / a festival and the first act is on and fans just see you and phoebe jamming out together a bit too close for comfort

- you and phoebe sneaking glances at each other, during instrumental parts of her songs she always comes over to you jumping around

- shit goes crazy when phoebe gets too hyped up like how she does during salt in the wound and ends up grabbing you by the hair mid bass solo and kissing you on the lips

- the amount of people taking to twt shipping and crying about it “if they are together it makes so much sense considering they literally kissed/ share the same clothes”

- someone takes a sneaky video of the two of you holding hands backstage during a show when the opening act was on and people go crazy “GUYS EVERYONE ACT SURPRISED IF THEY LAUNCH”

- end up hard launching when phoebe posts a photo but it’s a mirror photo and all you can see is phoebe with her arm around someone and people can tell it’s you from the bass in your arms. the photo is cropped so you can’t see their head but people know it’s you and phoebe

- could be captioned “i got a thing for bassists” and you’re in her comments like “hi (i like girls and phoebes like “hi (me too)” stealing that literally from renee raps tweet 😭

#pom writes #phoebe bridgers x reader #phoebe bridgers au #phoebe bridgers angst #phoebe bridgers blurb #phoebe bridgers fluff #phoebe bridgers one shot #phoebe bridgers headcanons #phoebe bridgers fanfic #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #boygenius au #boygenius one shot

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angstintensifer · 11 months

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some sad thoughts about the guardians of the galaxy

Rocket didn’t understand why Groot wanted to sacrifice himself in GOTG vol1

Rocket lost all his friends (minus Nebula) twice.

Nebula had to watch Peter grieve Gamora after she had been grieving for five years.

Gamora never said goodbye to anyone but Peter.

Mantis knew Gamora died before anyone else because she could feel Thanos’s grief.

Nebula and Rocket lived in their ship alone, with all their dead friends things.

Gamora knew her time with the guardians wouldn’t last forever because she knew where the soul stone was, and that she had to die to keep it out of Thanos’s reach.

Peter was the last thing Gamora wanted to see before she died.

Gamora sacrificed the universe to save Nebula. But Thanos sacrificed her for his own personal gain.

Drax probably had no friends before he became a guardian.

Peter went to see his mother’s grave with his grandpa on earth.

Rocket and Nebula had their own funerals for their friends before the blip, then put on one for Gamora for the others when they came back.

Rocket was with strangers for 23 days before Tony and Nebula came to earth.

Peter didn’t want to be with new Gamora, he just wanted the woman he loved back.

New Gamora never experienced Nebula’s “I just wanted a sister!” argument.

Teenage Groot lost his mother.

Thanos took away Drax’s wife Ovette, his daughter Kameria, and then his friend Gamora.

Peter and the guardians lived on Knowhere, the last place Peter saw Gamora alive.

#so yea <3 #sad #angst #marvel headcanons #marvel #MCU #guardians of the galaxy #gamora #nebula #rocket raccoon #Groot #drax the destroyer #mantis #peter quill #peter x gamora #rocket racoon and groot #Nebula and Gamora #Alexa play Scott street by Phoebe Bridgers

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simpomatic · 3 months

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here’s a playlist about hating someone because you care about them too much and they care about you too little

“fuck all your gold stars”

some key lyrics!

- you have a phone, you should have called!

- loving him hurts, loving him don’t work, so love him i won’t!

- i wish i never met you!

- time to grow up! you were the one! and now you’re not!

- i’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning :(

- i’ll stay ready for you to take me! take me! take me! take me!

if you can’t tell, i’m very much in my maisie peters boygenius era

#no this is not about anyone in particular if any of my irls see this #unless…#anyway #boygenius #maisie peters #phoebe bridgers #lucy dacus #julien baker #taylor swift #this is just an angry woman playlist #purr #as it should be #spotify #playlist #gracie abrams #angst #gay #indie rock #Spotify

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the-man-in-the-suit-official · 1 year

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Scott Street.

Summary: You’ve risen to new found stardom, but an old flame from the past insists on winning you back. A continuation of You’ve Become My Ceiling.

A/N: Genuinely sorry for the infrequent posting! I’ll get around soon. Formatting was also getting on my nerves.

Taglist: @reveriehs @belovedcherry

Reader Pronouns: Any

Length: Long? 5,667 Words.

Celebrities: Harry E. Styles

TW: Angst, Cheating

Song(s) To Listen To:

Your hands gripped the slick phone, eyebrows furrowed and heart feeling frozen and still. The phone was attempting to tell you that you’d missed a call, but your eyes were out of focus as you gathered your thoughts.

It was Harry.

Part of you wished it to be a dream, but the other part was curious, yet cautious. Your life had been a little bland the past few years, though you’d never admit it, you missed the adventures and midnight memories.You missed your best friend. That’s who you were still grieving, not the cheating liar who broke your heart over six times.

It had been a week and you’d failed to notice the call, only now discovering it while cleaning out your phone. There was a voicemail, but your hands were far too shaky to play it. You gave yourself a moment to calm down and played it slowly.

A small chuckle came from the recording, “Heh. Um, hey, (Y/N). I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but…You know I’m proud of you. And also…I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

His voice broke a little, “I know how much pain I caused now. I was stupid and young and it’s not an excuse, but I’m just really sorry. I wish I could do it all back again. I still can’t find the answer to why I did the things I did to you, either. You were the one thing that had loved me since before I was famous. I was an idiot to have let that go.”

There was sniffing on the other end, “You’re such a good person. And I…I really hollowed you out. I never even gave you a true apology. I miss my best friend. I became someone I didn’t know or want - someone I’d be repulsed by now. Someone I’d never want around you. I’m sorry.”

Harry cleared his throat, “But I’m proud of you, is all. You left and did greater things for yourself.”

It was silent for a moment again, “I never knew you could sing so beautifully. I’d like to hear it in person, if I could. You took a big part of me when you left, (Y/N). I still…I still feel the same way. Always have. But, um…Get back to me when you can- I mean, if you want. Alright. Bye.”

Taking a deep breath, you waited until the longing finally brushed itself off of you and was replaced by neutrality. The old memories resurfaced. Finding Harry in bed with another. On a date with someone you’d seen with him before.

You put your phone down and walked away, trying to collect yourself.

As for Harry, four and a half years changed him just as they did then. When you left, the guilt destroyed a piece of his heart, and he made his best attempt to be what he couldn’t be for you. He hadn’t dated since then, hadn’t felt he was worthy enough, really. He’d dedicated the entirety of Harry Styles - his debut album - to you, though he was sure you had no idea. Even now, his journal was filled to the brim with songs about you, most prevalent, some variation of a song he’s called, “Falling.” It was a heavy song, but the lyrics stuck with him.

They told the story of his departure from you, cheating and all, though the public wasn’t aware that it even happened.

His apartment smelt of lavender and poppies, even as he made his breakfast and did their daily duties. His album had released about a year ago, maybe a little less, and he hit stardom like he had never expected it. Taking a break from touring for even a week was well worth it. He loved his fans, sure, but it was draining to be a musician. Nonetheless, he was grateful.

Harry didn’t even expect you to make a call back. He just wanted to say sorry, truly, from the bottom of his heart, because he was different then. Fame changes you. And he should have never let that happen to him.

He knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness.

So it was a surprise to him when a message appeared on his phone two months after the initial voicemail.

Y/N: Hey, Haz.

Jack was a tall man who was more legs than anything. He was stern, always looked at you with a taut expression, and would put you in your place, but oh, how he was completely soft for you. You’d met through his grandparents, who he took care of in his nice, spacious house. He and his grandparents were your neighbors, but you’d met his grandparents at a park years prior, engaging in small chat very often.

They’d loved Harry, though you were both sure they had positively no idea who he was aside from your boyfriend. Lily, the woman, would never hesitate to pinch his cheeks and comment on how amazing the two of you looked. You’d both expressed hope in wanting to be like them, growing old together, but here you were without your other half.

After your breakup, you’d rented a cozy apartment right next to Jack and his family’s house (though it was unbeknownst to you), and found that the park was relatively close to it. But as you walked on the trail, you came to find that everything seemed to have lost its shine. No longer did the water glisten so bright, or did the roses avoid withering like they simply couldn’t die, but everything was so undeniably…normal. Harry had shaken your life, only to disappear later, leaving you back in something that should have been comfortable, but was instead foreign. Normalcy was foreign.

“Oh, my dear!” The familiar voice, loaded with a beautiful French accent, slipped its way into your ears, and you tore your eyes away from the pond, behind you and finding the couple, holding something up to you, “You’ve dropped this.”

Lily brought the small item to you, showing you that in her gloved hands lay a necklace, a mother of pearl inside the locket. Harry had gifted it to you for your one year anniversary.

You furrowed your brows at the memory before she noticed it.

“Where is the handsome boy?” She tried to get her point across, even with the language barrier, “The one with the curly head? Tall? Le Britannique ?”

You felt the winter air nip at you more than it already had in your light jacket, “No, no, he is not here.”

She tilted her head in confusion, her husband watching over her, knowing even less English than she did. Harry had always been the translator for you, so speaking without him made it frustratingly harder.

“He has been gone for quite some time.”

You looked down, and in this, they seemed to both understand you. Paulie, her husband, took his coat off, placing it over your shoulders. The weight seemed comforting now.

“Aw, mon chou, come have a cup of tea with us,” Lily held your shoulders, slipping the necklace into your hands.

Despite your protest, you found yourself in their lovely home, surprised to see that they were a direct neighbor, “Jack, nous avons amené un chien errant !”

Lily smiled back at you before turning back and looking down at someone in the next room. You entered it, never really breaking away from her vibrant blue eyes, before you saw what she was looking at. Or rather, who. He was young, maybe just a bit older than you, and had eyes more alluring than hers. He had a slim figure and face, with a longer nose that matched, and tousled, short brown hair. His slender fingers were placed on the piano keys as he sat. He was breathtakingly handsome, really, and despite you not finding any sort of attraction in him, seeing as you just met, there was no doubt about his conventional attractiveness.

“Bonjour ?” He’d asked, his right eye squinting as if he were trying to scan every detail about you.

His expression softened into a smile shortly after, his eyes half-lidded when he got no response, “Hi. I see you’ve met my grandparents. Eager, aren’t they?”

You smiled back, chuckling, “You could say that.”

And it all started there. You’d started to take piano and French lessons from Jack, who after hearing about your still unnamed ex, wanted to help the best he could. You’d taken up piano for your career, and French, well, simply to prove to yourself that you really didn’t need Harry. Not for French, and not for life.

You and Jack had been good friends for a year now, knowing each other for about three before you’d really connected, so it felt right to turn to him and spill your gossip all over his fancy blue canopy bed during a hangout.

“Wait…” He started, surprised and clutching his elbows, arms crossed, “Your ex is Harry Styles?!”

You stuffed your face into a pillow, “That’s what you take away, Jack?! Everyone knows that!”

“Well, I didn’t! You know I can’t handle all the social media stuff, I avoid it like the plague!” Defensively and rather playfully, he rested a hand on his chest. He was wearing a brown and green sweater vest with brown dress pants and a white shirt, a nice green bowtie to tie his look together for his last day shadowing a French professor.

“The point is,” You giggled at the older man who seemed more like a best friend to you now, “I’m really not sure what to do here. He sounds so sincere, and maybe I fell out of love with the person he became a long time ago, but if he’s the same person I grew up with…Well…”

“No way. You can’t go back,” He paced, a hand on his chin, a habit of his you’d always loved.

You whined, “But can’t I? If I just want to rekindle the friendship we had before-“

“What are you going to do when you find him in bed with someone else again?”

Your heart stopped. He was right, of course.

“I’ll be respectful,” You responded sternly, “He isn’t mine.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Well, I can’t change your mind. I know you. Just be careful. It could be good for you, who knows? I just…don’t want you to get hurt again, (Y/N).”

Smiling with excitement, you thanked him countless times for listening to you and your rambles. You left shortly thereafter, and his smile fell as soon as the door shut behind you.

It was then you texted Harry, just a simple text, though it took you hours to finally hit the send button. He responded not a minute later, and you jumped at the sound.

HAZ: (Y/N), hi.

The name you never bothered to change in your contacts.

The two of you texted on and off casually, before deciding that maybe it would be better to catch up in a coffee shop. You were nervous, admittedly, but nonetheless stunned when you were escorted to your private booth at the Beachwood Café.

All you wore was a jumper and jeans, nothing too fancy, but you couldn’t help trying to style your hair in a way he would like.

He had been the first to arrive, you’d seen him in the window, twiddling his thumbs anxiously. God, did he look good as ever. His hair had grown out a bit more than the last time you saw him, and he’d dressed in clothes more personal to him, a shirt with small puppies printed on it under a knitted cardigan, baggy jeans and rings. He was definitely richer than the last you saw him, but the thing was, he was still your Haz, that much was noticeable.

The waiter led you to your table and you gently sat your bag down on the floor, sitting across from him. He’d been waiting for you, not even ordering yet.

“You look amazing,” He spoke, seemingly subconsciously.

“You’re not so bad yourself, H.”

And it was true. He looked cleaner, happier. Like he was taking care of himself. Everything was going well, and to be honest, it made you beyond happy. It was as if you were friends again, and nothing bad ever happened. Eventually, the topic reached Gemma somehow.

“So, I heard Gemma finally graduated,” You continued, “That’s wonderful! I always knew she could do it. She’s rather smart.”

“She’s great! She’s married now, you know. He’s wonderful, just feels a bit…weird. That she has someone now and I don’t.”

“Recent breakup?” You’d asked, a genuine question.

“No,” He chuckled, “Not at all. I worked on myself. Haven’t dated since you.”

A small gust of wind came through the window beside you, and you blamed the shivers on that. There was a gentle pause, but you shook your head and continued, “Oh, I see.”

There was obviously still a spark there, you’d noticed. Your heart still beat wildly to the tune of his.

“But, erm,” You continued, and he cleared his throat, “That makes me feel old.”

He scoffed playfully, his arms crossed, “What does that make me, then?”

You giggled. The two of you weren’t so far off, really. Just a couple of months, but he always managed to mention it.

“An old man,” You joked, and even the humor was still there.

His chuckle sent butterflies throughout your stomach.

“So, how’s the band?” You tilted your head.

You hadn’t really noticed that breaking things off with him would essentially alienate them, too.

“Well, Mitch and Sarah are getting married,” You did a bit of a double take.

“Wow, I mean, I knew it was going to happen, I just had no idea.

“A lot changes in our lives,” He spoke smoothly as the waiter came.

“Hey guys, my name is Carson, I’ll be your server this morning! What can I get for you?” He was younger, bright-eyed.

“I’ll just have an Americano and the strawberry crepes,” Harry didn’t even have to look at his menu, and yet you were scrambling to know what you wanted before he got to you.

“Alright,” The waiter wrote it down before turning back to you, “And for the spouse?”

Your face flushed red, “Oh, no, I’m not!”

Harry only chuckled and watched in amusement as the waiter became embarrassed, too.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry, then what can I get for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck and you giggled once more.

“Hazelnut hot latte and almond croissant, please, Carson.”

He nodded and left soon after.

“I listened to your songs, by the way,” Harry began slowly, “How’s that?”

“Well, one thing they don’t prepare you for as a strictly-solo show is how heavy the equipment is, like the drums? Jeez, don’t get me started.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “You’ve always took on way more than you could carry.”

“Yeah, well, suppose that’s me,” A smile found its way to your face, “But being alone is good. I needed that.”

He nodded again, “Yeah, I think I did, too.”

There was the beginning of a pause, but you still refused to let it linger, “I live on Scott Street now.”

“Oh, by the rose park?” He perked up, “I love that place.”

“I know,” You said bashfully, “Harry, our first date was there.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d remember,” He smiled back.

“But how could I forget?”

It had been magical, with swans skimming the water, almost as in love as you and Harry were. Had been. Are.

“Oh, but remember that old French couple we ran into? I know it’s quite random, but I ran into them again while I was having a bad day. They noticed we weren’t together anymore, and next thing I knew, I was at their house drinking a cup of tea. They’re quite nice. Their grandson, he lives with them, showed me a bit of piano.”

He remembered it well, you had said that you wanted the two of you to last even longer than they, and you had even hoped they’d be your spitting metaphorical image in decades.

“Anyway, I’m learning French now, I guess. And I found out we’re neighbors, isn’t that weird?” Carson set everything down on your table as you talked.

“Anything else for now?”

“No, thank you,” Harry didn’t even look up at him, listening intently. He didn’t even notice when Carson had left.

“So, now I take piano lessons on Fridays, and French lessons on Tuesday and Thursday. But his grandparents have been acting a bit odd - think they want me to stick around for more than just lessons,” You chuckled and sipped your latte.

You could’ve sworn Harry’s eye twitched, but you dismissed it, “That’s…great. I’m glad. You always wanted to learn French.”

“Right? You should come with sometime, you’d like him,” You hadn’t even noticed you were now arranging a second hangout. But he did. He always noticed.

“I’d love to,” It was oddly fast.

“Well, he’s invited me to a dinner party for his work - he’s a French professor. But he’s only been out of college a couple of months. Got his PhD. He’s nice, I think you’d like him!”

You looked down, fiddling with your thumbs, “But if you’re busy that’s totally fine! I just don’t wanna stick out like a sore thumb, is all. And it was always more fun when we stuck out together.”

He blushed, and in that moment, he would have done anything in the world you’d ask of him.

“Consider my plans all clear that day, alright?” He held your hands, “It's about time we did something as friends again.”

You nodded with a smile, “Okay, you’re right.”

You two split ways shortly after, Harry having insisted on paying the bill. He was happy to be talking to you, sure, but there was still a sinking feeling he felt when you were mentioned.

Shame.

You had piano lessons that night, and you wore the same outfit, feeling exhausted just from the interaction. Jack had greeted you happily.

“Mon cherie! (Y/N), come in!” He stepped aside, “Nana and Papa are out, so it’s just us today.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Jack reached for the cupboard, “Nana just got this new wine, and I think it’s quite lovely.”

“Sure!” You agreed, sitting at their small dining table, “Oh, Jack, I hope you don’t mind! I invited a friend of mine to come to the meeting with me. Both of us have always been interested in French, so I figured it would be perfect!”

Jack, in all truthfulness, assumed it would be a woman, and thus, agreed.

“Not a problem, cherie,” He handed you a glass, full with dark red liquid, and he drank from his cup slowly.

You watched him aimlessly, his Adam’s Apple defined, bobbing up and down. Like he hadn’t had anything to drink all day. Jack was like that, he’d forget to eat, sleep, drink. He was always so busy with work. You admired him for it.

“You know, you should remember to drink more often. Have you eaten at all today?” Tilting your head, he shook his and set his cup down.

“How could you tell?”

You chuckled and stood up, holding one of his cheeks in your hands, examining his lips, “You drink way too desperately.”

He was a little stunned, to say the least, and gripped the counter, his stomach in knots.

“But,” You wiped his upper lip with your thumb, ridding the excess wine off before moving to the stove, “I’ll make you something. I owe you after all these free lessons, anyways.”

He slumped, disappointed, but continued onward, “I could never ask that of you, but…that sounds very nice.”

“Then consider it done, Cherie.” You mimicked him, getting to work.

Afterward, your lessons continued as normal, and you were actually getting pretty far along.

“So, (Y/N),” Jack finally looked up from his paperwork, having left you with some French worksheets, “Nana and Papa wanted me to invite you to The French Riviera with us. Figured it would be a good learning experience. I agree, what do you think?”

You thought hard before answering the question on the worksheet and looking back up at him, shrugging, “Sure! That sounds lovely. When?”

“Well, they plan to order the tickets this weekend. We were just waiting on your oh-so-busy schedule,” He smiled, his dimples showing rather lovely.

“Oh, I can do it anytime! The glory of being a musician with no tour dates. Your meeting is in a month, yes?” You finished your worksheet and turned to him.

He nodded, causing a single strand of hair to fall in his eyes, “Oui, mais la réunion sera courte .”

You exhaled a chuckle at his quiz, “Okay, then how about next weekend?”

“You’re getting good, Chérie,” It gave you a proud smile.

“Then it’s settled. Send me the details,” You checked your clock, “Jeez, it’s already 8PM. I was supposed to write another song for the debut album.”

“Well, feel free to use me as a muse,” He smiled again, and it was a joke, but something struck you quite suddenly.

He had been there for you for years, and the thought of thanking him never even crossed your damned mind, distracted by your old lover. As you entered your house, you walked straight to your desk, completely in a trance as you thought about him. He was amazing, someone everyone should have in their lives, so how come you’d never noticed?

Daydreamer.

With eyes that make you melt,

He lends his coat for shelter,

Plus he’s there for you when he shouldn’t be,

Waits for you, then sees you through.

You smiled softly, hearing a guitar strum in your head, and suddenly your heart felt warmer than it originally had. The night really hits you, and next thing you know, you’ve got a demo at 2.56 AM.

You smiled wide now, your heart running rampant over a daydreamy thought you had of your neighbor. It’s not like you actually feel this way about him, but imagining yourself in something so plausible seems lighthearted and warm. Reaching for your phone, you bite your lip, wanting another opinion on the song, but not knowing if your relationship with Harry has evolved enough yet. It’s soon, but he still feels like your closest friend. You decide to go through with it anyway and text him.

ME: Haz! Want to hear something new I’ve just come up with over the course of seven straight hours?

It was actually very, very surprising when he responded a few minutes later.

HAZ: Yeah! FaceTime?

You smiled wide, feeling your heart skip a beat before agreeing. His phone call came in shortly after, and you were met with a very groggy Harry, his hair messy and in his face.

“Harry,” You looked at him suspiciously, “Why are you even up this late?”

He grew rather embarrassed, you could tell by the way he hid his face from the camera subtly, “Never bothered to change the ringtone you set.”

You could have died of embarrassment right then and there. The old ringtone you chose for your beloved boyfriend at the time, mind you, a very, very famous celebrity, was, in fact, a loud rooster. How much more embarrassing could you get? Laughing instead, you smiled wide. Things were going back to your normal, after all.

“Anyways, you let me know if this is good, okay? And be brutally honest.” Harry raised a brow in suspicion but quickly settled down as you began to play the guitar, strumming it gently.

“Daydreamer,” You began, and he felt his body go cold, in shock and in amazement. Hearing it semi-live, and completely personal was extremely different than the borderline music stalking of your singles he’d done recently.

“Sittin’ on the sea, soaking up the sun,” You changed the hit a higher note at, “He is a real lover, of making up the past and feelin’ up his girl like he’s never felt her figure before.”

You strummed gently for a few seconds, tying the calmness of the song together, “A jaw dropper, looks good when he walks, is the subject of their talk. He would be hard to chase, but to catch and he could change the world with his hands behind his back, oh.”

You strummed on some more, too nervous to look Harry in the eyes, despite him on the screen, and with a higher voice, began to sing more, “You can find him sittin’ on your doorstep, waiting for a surprise. And he will feel like he’s been there for hours, and you can tell that he’ll be there for life.”

This verse had been completely different, with you dragging on words and indulging in the beautiful memory, “Daydreamer, with eyes that make you melt, he lends his cost for shelter, Plus he’s there for you when he shouldn’t be, waits for you, then sees you through.”

Harry felt completely inferior in your presence, your voice sounding like he’d never heard it before. Instead of low and emotional, it was high and nostalgic, and for a moment, the thought that the song was about him struck him. Higher, you continued, “There’s no way I could describe him. What I’ve said is just what I’m hoping for, but I will find him, sittin’ on my doorstep waiting for a surprise. And he will feel like he’s been there for hours, and I can tell that he’ll be there for life.”

You slowed the guitar down, “And I can tell that he’ll be there for life.”

There was a moment of silence as you set the guitar off the bed, your face completely red after realizing the complete feeling of the song.

“(Y/N)…” Harry began, obviously now waking up completely, “That was amazing.”

“You mean it? It’s not too cheesy?”

He shook his head fast, “No. I don’t even know who it’s about, but you’ve got me falling in love with him, too.”

You smiled softly, happy to hear that he enjoyed it, “You sure? I don’t want it to sound creepy if I tell someone it’s for him. I just wanted to write something about someone who’s helped me so much.”

Continuing on, you fiddled with your sleeve, “Jack’s just so great.”

His heart dropped, and he furrowed his brows in jealousy, his stomach in knots as the idea of a love song for someone else hit him.

“He’ll love it,” He responded, not really thinking much as he did so, spaced out.

“Oh, just so you know, I’m going to France soon! Jack’s grandparents invited me, and I think it would be good to learn.”

Harry nodded, biting his lip as he snapped back into it, “You’re right. Be safe, okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me! I’ll be completely safe. It’s you I’m worried about, Haz. You’re quite the klutz.”

He chuckled, and from there, the conversation continued. It was like nothing had changed from your old years, and the night was talked away by two silly teenagers in love. When you woke up, a smile found itself on your face as you quickly noticed Harry’s sleeping face displayed on the camera. You’d fallen asleep before him, but he’d stayed.

His eyes were closed, revealing his long eyelashes. Were they always that curled? His lips parted for a moment and he heaved a great sigh, mumbling something before brushing hair out of his face. He was ethereal.

The trip came sooner than you’d noticed, and you didn’t want Daydreamer to be the last single released. It was so out of place from the rest of the album, but if you didn’t use it, then you wouldn’t have another single. There was one song you’d half-written, but it felt too personal, and besides, you’d already released a song about Harry. It felt like overkill. But it also just felt right, as a final goodbye to the situation.

Jack looked down at you as you sat with your guitar, “So, you want me to preview the song, yeah? Then we can go to France?”

He was teasing you, wanting to seem agitated, but you’d never heard him so much as raise his voice or seen him even furrow his eyebrows with a mean stare.

“Yes,” You chuckled, “I just don’t know if this song is too much. I had breakfast with Harry the other day and it came to my mind a week or so later.”

“Go on, then,” He sat down across from you, “I’m sure I’ll love it either way.”

But in his heart, he hated the fact that he was listening to a song you wrote about another man.

“Okay,” You took a deep breath, strumming.

“Walkin’ Scott Street feelin’ like a stranger, with an open heart, open container. I got a stack of mail and a tall can. It’s a shower beer, it’s a payment plan,” You recalled the first few weeks of moving out and how harsh it was. All you wanted was to be happy with him, but instead there were constant reminders that he was no longer there. Stacked up bills and inquiries about single-household payments, and the liquor which he hardly ever let you drink in fear you’d succumb to its temptation.

“There’s helicopters over my head every night when I go to bed. Spending money and I earned it, when I’m lonely, that’s when I’ll burn it,” You had complete control over yourself, sure, but at what cost? As you strummed, you felt tears pricking your eyes.

“Do you feel ashamed,” Singing clearly, it surprised Jack, who was already stunned silent, “When you hear my name?”

“I asked you, ‘How is your sister? I heard she got her degree.’” You detailed a conversation.

“And I said, ‘That makes me feel old.’

You said, ‘What does that make me?’

You asked me, ‘How is playing drums?

I said, ‘It's too much shit to carry. And what about the band?’

You said, ‘They’re all getting married.’”

You continued on, “Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?”

You began strumming a tune for a long time, tapping your foot to the sound of the beat. Maybe you went a little overboard, but it didn’t matter. You could tell Jack was glued to you.

“Anyway, don’t be a stranger,” More strumming, “Anyway, don’t be a stranger.”

And on a quieter note, you continued to the final line, “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, you know you’re talented, don’t you?” Was all your friend managed the day as you set the hollow instrument down, completely taken away.

“Aw, you’re just saying that.”

“I mean it!” He didn’t hesitate as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Thank you, Jack,” You smiled softly, “And you should be pleased to know that I’ve written something dedicated to you, too.”

His heart was almost definitely leaping, “You did? Can I hear it?”

“Mmm, maybe in France,” You teased.

You found France to be quite lovely, filled with beautifully blue clear water, and lovely locals that had a tendency to mistake you and Jack as a couple. Despite the mishaps, you’d gone to see various things. The art galleries, cafés, bars and lounges, they were all magical, and today you’d be seeing the ocean for the first time ever.

Harry was not so amused by the photos you’d sent him. He was glad you were having fun, yes, but he hated that it wasn’t with him. He was the one who promised you he’d take you to see the ocean, and he was the one who was supposed to take you to see it for the first time. Not some idiot with a PhD who didn’t know half of the things he knew about you. He was angry, not at you or Jack, but with himself. It hurt so much to see you with another, and you weren’t even his. How must you have felt during your relationship with him?

And now, he was drinking whiskey in his bedroom, strumming notes mindlessly. His phone rang once, but he didn’t really notice it, the volume being off. That was until he felt he was finished with his guitar and set it to the side of his bed, finding that he’d dropped his phone. The screen showed brightly that he had missed a call from you, and soon later, after he’d turned his sound on, the rooster notification sounded throughout the room. He chuckled and turned it down, already slightly tipsy before he began to play the voicemail on speaker.

It was you, practicing your French.

“Coucou! Tu dors ? Oh, j'suis désolée…(Hey! Are you asleep? Oh, I’m sorry…)” You sounded lovely in French, like the language was made for you.

“Bah (Well…),” You began but decided to take it back, “Non... Nan, c'est pas important… (No, it’s not important.)”

“Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on— (Yes, we went to the beach and now we—)” You were telling him about your day, just as you had been for the past few days as you kept in touch. He was smiling as he heard you, but then he picked up on a voice in the back, assuming it was your friend.

He heard something about the dinner, but then the words hit him. Mon cherie. My dear. My darling. My love. Had something already happened?

“Parfait ! (Perfect!)” You answered Jack, “Allez ! (Let’s go!)”

The voicemail ended abruptly, leaving him cold, staring at the wall in his bedroom, utterly dumbfounded. His strongest coping mechanism was always songwriting, and maybe that was a habit you’d picked up, but he sighed and pulled his laptop onto his lap.

Mon cherie. Cherry.

He’d use your voicemail in it, he was sure, and he chewed on his necklace as he looked down upon the lyrics later.

Don’t you call him baby.

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