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builtbybrokenbells · 19 days

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Partners In Crime

The cure for heartbreak is truth, but what do you do when the truth is the source of heartbreak itself?

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, mentions of cheating/cheating, lots of pining and yearning, unreturned feelings, self doubt, anxiety, anger, depression, marriage/weddings, breakups, crying, mentions of blood/bleeding, being left at the altar, self sabotage, self doubt, eloping, kissing, confessing feelings, drinking, swearing, childhood friends to lovers, sorry if i miss any!

some Jake angst bc i guess I’m not suffering enough right now. much love, hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Jake’s POV

A rose, so strikingly beautiful in its own simplicity. The petals, blood red with intent to steal attention, surrounded by pillowy emerald leaves to frame the picture of her. The smell, sickeningly sweet. The perfume could choke you, suffocate you with its fragrant aura all whilst convincing you that you were okay, and that it would never hurt you. The silk of the petal against the skin of your fingertips, soft and inviting, forever making you wonder how anything could ever be so easy to love.

And then the hand slips, tumbling recklessly past the flowing leaves and grazing over the violent stem. The thorns, the only protection for the beauty above, sticking into your skin as the aching pain begins to spread. Crimson, not just from the leaves, now flows effortlessly from the wound produced by the one thing you’d fallen hopelessly for, reminding you that sometimes, not even love is enough to spare you from the hurt.

The skin, barely even broken, makes you wonder if you were even harmed at all, or if it was a figment of your own imagination, showing you the plausible outcome as it begged you to take a step back. As you brought your hand to the high quality wool of your suit jacket, swiping away the memory of your injury, you knew it could not be false. It hurt too badly to be anything but true, for even dreams did not sting quite the same. As you raise your fist to the oak door, one fancier than you’ve ever seen before, the ache suddenly spreads far beyond the tip of your finger, settling deep in your chest and wrapping around your spine as you wait for an answer.

Not even a shuffle is heard from the other side, and you wonder if maybe you should walk away, or if knocking was a good idea at all. You wonder if she’s in there, weepy-eyed with a smile while she stares at her reflection in the mirror and a dozen hands worked to zip up the back of her dress. You wonder what the dress looked like, if it was intricately beaded or plastered with lace, or maybe it was a silk slip that screamed elegance that matched her entirety.

You need not wonder, because wondering was never something you had to do on her behalf. You knew her, and you knew her better than the back of your hand. More than that, you were certain you had studied her far beyond what you’d ever known about the rosewood fret of your SG. You knew she was in the room, dressed perfectly in white lace extending down to her wrists, cascading delicately to the floor behind her as she walked. Her hair was twisted up, the loose pieces by her face hanging down to accentuate the warmth of her cheeks, just like always. Her hands, perfectly manicured and searching too busy themselves as she tried her best not to break a nail or chip away at the polish. She was tapping one foot against the ground, her heart beating so hard in her chest you could nearly hear it from the hallway, but despite her anxiety, she held a soft, warm smile on her lips.

She was not an open book, but you’d dedicated a lifetime to knowing her. Months and miles could separate you, and you would find her again the exact same as how you left her. Sometimes, things never changed, and thankfully, she was one thing that never wavered.

You knew her so well, and seeing her after so much time away, the same picture as you’d seared in your mind every night alone in a hotel room, was always comforting. It wrapped you in a blanket of warmth, filling your heart with so much love it might burst from your chest. She was everything, and she reminded you of that fact every time she graced you with her presence.

Unfortunately, her company often came with more than just that.

When the door opened, revealing the picture you’d already created in your mind, you were reminded of that fact worse than ever before.

“Jake?” She breathed, her lips glossy and her eyes sparkling to match. Her hair was twisted up, just as you’d imagined it would be, dazzling with a clip covered in gems. The soft locks of hair hung around her face, the same ones she could never seem to get a handle on. This time, it was purposeful, and you knew she’d given in to the lack of control rather than fighting it. “I can’t believe you made it.” The smile on her face was striking, but as breathtaking as it was, it hurt worse than it helped your aching heart.

“You didn’t really think I would miss your big day?” You forced the words out, wondering why you couldn’t just appreciate the moment rather than dread the future. You extended your arm, holding out the flower, you realized it had nothing on her. As beautiful as you once believed it was, seeing her stand in front of you dressed in the wedding gown and dolled to perfection, you knew nothing could ever hold a candle to her. Not even the blood red petals and the emerald leaves.

No, especially not something as simple as that.

“Here,” you said, watching her gaze down upon the single flower held in your hand. “Figured there would be lots of white today, so maybe some color would break up the monotony a bit.” Another smile graced her lips, so big the apples of her cheeks would start to ache if she held it for any amount of time.

You wanted to see her smile, so why did it hurt so much?

More than that, why did it hurt so bad to love something that was so easy to fall in love with?

“You always know what to say, Jacob.” She whispered, grabbing it from your grasp, her eyes never straying from the ruby red petals. “I never should have doubted you.” It looked a million times better in her hands than it ever did it yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the thorns never once thought to prick her skin, fearful of harming something so beautiful.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You chuckled, finding the ache ease the more she spoke. The soft sound hit your ears, quickly making itself the most important thing in the entire room. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” And it was the truth, even if you knew you shouldn’t be saying it. “Not that you don’t look beautiful every day.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, finally looking up to catch your eye. She held the stare for a moment, and just like every other time, you could have sworn there was something there, something deeper than the surface level shit the two of you were spewing to each other.

If there was, you were still a coward, and when you thought about addressing it, your palms broke into a sweat and your stomach twisted in a knot.

Maybe if you had found the courage all those years ago, you’d never be standing before her now, watching her get married. Maybe, you would be the one waiting to marry her.

“Do you want to come in?” She asked, her eyes flickering past you, settling on the wallpapered drywall in the hallway. She blinked a few times, seemingly trying to bring herself back to reality. You wanted to ask, but you were afraid of the answer.

“F’course. Think we’ve got some catching up to do.” Catching up before she could never be bothered to think of you again, is what you should have said. After all, it was the truth, no matter how badly it hurt.

“Definitely.” She let out a giggle, throwing the door open and stepping back. As soon as you let yourself move forward, you felt like you were punched in the stomach. In the air lingered a perfume you’d spent a lifetime trying to forget. It was the sweetest smell that you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. You’d spent nights with your head buried under the covers, your lips ghosting the skin of other women to try and drown the memory of her, but it never worked. When you woke in the morning, you always seemed to yearn for the same thing. Everything paled in comparison, soured just by the knowledge that something so special existed. “Everything got pushed back a little bit, but I’m trying not to panic. The day is still good, we’re here, we’re happy, even if it is a little bit later than expected.”

Happy.

Bold choice of words, sweetheart.

“What happened?” You asked, your eyes floating around the room, taking in everything it had to offer. Bridal suites were always so feminine, divine in their own special way. Billowy curtains, a stunning aerial view of the yard, porcelain white bathrooms and neat towels folded at every corner. It was perfect, everything in place, but it wasn’t her. Although she was perfect and pristine at first glance, she loved mess. For her entire life, she’d strewn clothes across the floor, leaving water bottles behind wherever she went. She loved nature, the feeling of earth on her skin and sand between her toes. Many times you’d walk in on her, paint covering her clothes and splattered on her face because she tried to repaint her bedroom all on her lonesome.

She was perfect in her chaos, and it was one of the very things that made you love her in the first place.

You wondered if her soon to be husband loved her for the very same things. You didn’t know him, nor did you know much about him. When you talked, it was never about him, but rather the life you two once dreamed of building together. Your job had taken you away from home, away from her, and as much as you missed her, you were grateful you never had to watch her fall in love with someone else. At the same time, it made you uneasy, unsure if you could watch your best friend fall into the arms of a man you knew nothing about. You dreaded the idea that he did not love her for those quirks, and that in your time away, his subjective love had made her change.

You looked to the bed, where she would have slept the night before, noticing the sheets pulled from the corners and the pillows nearly falling off the sides. The bag that once protected her dress was flipped inside out, thrown carelessly across the foot of the bed and long forgotten. A sadness washed over you, knowing that he did love her the same way. Then, you felt guilty for being sad at all; you should be jumping for joy that such a wonderful woman was being loved the way she deserved.

Even so, you could not shake the feeling of knowing you could love her better than anyone ever had, if she’d just give you the chance.

Then again, how could she ever give you a chance when you had always been too afraid to ask?

“No point in getting into it. Doesn’t matter now, does it?” She said, her tone light and the look in her eyes far away. You took a step towards the window, taking a long look outside. Rows of chairs were placed in the large field, the pond in the background decorated with lily pads and the birds sat upon trees in the distance singing love ballads. You wanted to be happy, but your stomach felt like it was filled with lead and your bones were heavy with the weight of your grief.

Tell her.

“It is important, sweetheart. It’s always important, to me at least.” Of course you could not tell her. Every time you thought about voicing your love for her, your throat closed around the words and your tongue petrified. Your heart raced, your whole body vibrating with the intensity of the emotion you felt for her, yet sentenced to a lifetime of never being able confess your sins.

Loving her in itself was not a sin, but by god did it feel like one. It was your biggest secret, and your largest skeleton in the closet. It loomed over your head wherever you went, and it clung to the fibers of your being no matter how hard you tried to shake it off. At five years old, with mud streaked cheeks and grass stains on your knees, you loved her the same. At twelve, with cracking voices and awkward statures, you still thought she was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. At eighteen, when you were lucky enough to bring her as your date to senior prom, you swore you would never feel the same for another woman, and you still hadn’t. Just a few days ago, thousands of miles away, she was the only thing you wanted. With her wedding invitation folded in your wallet, her name in your phone with a heart beside it despite the years being unkind to your friendship, she was the only thing you ever wanted to come home to.

“No, because if I talk about it, I’ll psych myself out again.” At that, a spark of hope ignited in your chest.

“Again?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, looking out at the yard too. A few guests were sat already, preparing for the main event. The event in which would forever haunt you. “I mean, it’s my wedding, the biggest day of my life. I think it’s normal to be anxious?” She posed it like a question, like she wanted you to tell her she was wrong, but you couldn’t. If you were to have her, it wouldn’t be like this. It wasn’t fair to ruin this for her for your own selfish purposes.

“Talk me through it, maybe I can help.” You offered. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, gentle and quiet as she smoothed out the skirt of her dress.

“I didn’t picture it like this.” She whispered, looking towards the floor. “I always thought I’d wake up on the morning of my wedding day, and I’d be overjoyed. I-I mean, I am, just not the way I thought I would be. I woke up, and it was cloudy outside. The sun’s not even shining, Jake.” You wanted to sit beside her, to pull her into your arms and tell her the sun was not shining because he was not the man she was supposed to marry, but you didn’t. Instead, you stood there, yearning to be the one who she was excited yet nervous to marry. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She huffed, shaking her head at herself.

“Stop it, you always do that.” You said, stepping towards her. She looked up at you, noticing you were closer than before. Her stare paralyzed you, ensuring you could not progress any further. “You always act like how you feel isn’t important, but it is, Y/N. To me, it is.”

“But it’s not, Jake. I just have the jitters. Once I get out there and say my vows, it’ll be better. I know it will be.”

How do you know?

How does she know that when the curtain closes and the sun draws near the earth, that she’ll be happy with her decision? How does she know that even under the warm golden hue on the earth as it prepares for the night, the uncertainty would flee? How does she know that she won’t decide he’s not the one for her, only after it’s too late?

“If you say so, sweetheart.” You nod, biting back a sorrowful smile. She was looking at you, studying you, waiting for you to say something else. You wondered if she was waiting for you to say the very thing you’d sworn yourself to secrecy about.

Of course she didn’t. She was getting married, and not to you.

Still, there was this hint of hope in her eye you couldn’t help but pick up on. It was the same hope that you so often felt when you were with her.

“Anyway, enough about me and my woes… how was Europe? I’m sure much more exciting than consoling a pitiful bride.”

Never.

You would console her every minute of every day and you would never get tired of it, nor would you wish to be anywhere else. She was what you wanted, no matter the circumstance. You wanted her for all she was, the sadness, happiness and anger combined. You didn’t want her on technicalities nor did you want only the good parts. You loved her so dearly that you’d even take the worst from her, if that was all she was ever willing to give you.

“It was good,” You cleared your throat as you spoke, finding a lump steadily growing within it.

“That’s it?” She forced a chuckle out, clearly picking up on your distance. “Give me more than that. How can I live vicariously through you if that’s all you have to say about it?” There was humour in her tone, but she meant what she said. She still wanted to be there with you.

“Yeah, it was good.” You nodded, feigning a little more excitement. “It’s beautiful there.”

“Was it everything we ever dreamed of?” The simple question hit you like a brick, the sheer weight of her words nearly making you double over in pain. Suddenly, you were sixteen again, crowded in her tiny bedroom and sharing a comforter on her twin mattress. The air was chilly and the lights were dim, your bodies close, but never as close as you wanted to be. Laughter hung thick in the air, keeping you warm just as well as the blanket as you talked about dreams and fears of the future.

Out of all the fears, you never seemed worried about her not being a part of your biggest dreams.

Maybe you had been scared of all the wrong things.

“You would have loved it, Angel.” You confessed, looking away from her so you did not have to see the sadness on her face. “I wished you were with me every step of the way.”

“I should have went,” she whispered, pain clear in her voice the same as it was in your own. “In the beginning, I should have went with you when you asked. Maybe we could have done all the things we used to talk about.”

“You still can.” The words slipped out effortlessly, and you wished you could take them back. The sentiment hung heavy in the air, both of you knowing the meaning was much deeper than it seemed. “I mean… You know, you can always come visit, see the sights and stuff.” Your cover up was pathetic, but it was the best you could do in the moment.

“You guys still want me there?” She asked, surprising you with her intrigue. You’d expected a blunt rejection, but she was humouring your ideas. You turned to look at her again, unable to keep your eyes off of her. A small smile blossomed on your lips, a real one that could only be accredited to her.

“Y/N, there’s not a day that goes by that we don’t want you there with us.” It was the truth, even if it was heavy. She took in a long breath, looking down at her attire for a moment before catching your eye again.

“I think about it more than I should.” She admitted, shy about still living within that same daydream whilst oblivious to the fact that you’d never left it. Your heart fluttered at the idea of her still thinking about spending her days with you, sharing hotel rooms and building a new life together, away from your hometown, away from him. “Come sit with me?” She asked, hopeful that you would oblige.

Josh had told you not to walk into the building, not to knock on her door with sad eyes and a broken heart. At the time, you thought he was ridiculous for suggesting such a thing, knowing you needed to see her. Now that she was looking at you, more beautiful than ever, you knew he was right. It was a bad idea to come, and a worse idea to sit beside her when you knew it would do nothing but break your heart further. As you stepped towards the bed, sitting next to her, you just hoped that you would not break her heart the same as you were breaking your own.

You were still, staring forward instead of turning your body towards her like you so badly wanted to. Then, without warning, her hand reached out for yours, settling so cautiously over the back of your hand. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, just as wonderful as it was all of those years ago. You could not remember the last time anything felt so good.

Tell her.

“I’m really glad you came, Jake.” She said, quiet as a mouse as if her confession was a crime.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. You know that.”

“I do,” She agreed, but it was strained. “It’s just… been so long since I’ve seen you. I was worried I might not be as important to you anymore.”

She wanted to be important to you. Even now, when she was minutes away from being someone else’s, she would always be a little bit yours.

She had never been yours, but in some strange way, you both had the inkling that she was.

“You’ll always be important to me, angel.” You said, feeling her perfume begin to suffocate you. It was lethal, but you knew if you walked away, you would beg to come back just to die at her hands. “Do you remember when we were kids and you used to dream about this day? How I always told you I’d be here to hold your hand through it, just so you don't get scared and run away?”

“Yeah,” she let out a small laugh, but her mind was far away. You wondered what she was thinking, and you wondered if you even wanted to know. As terrible as it was, you hoped she was thinking about you. “How tightly can you hold my hand?” She asked, her tone airy and light, like she wheezed the words past her lips.

“What?” You asked, keeping the smile on your face as you turned your head to look at her. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes.

She was afraid.

For the first time in your life, you had to swallow the fact that the bravest person you knew was afraid of the future. No matter the circumstances, she had always been prepared. Even when your bags were packed and you held a plane ticket in your hand, ready to fly away from everything you’d ever known, away from her, she was not scared. You were terrified, tears in your eyes with shaking hands, but she never wavered and instead, encouraged you to follow your dreams. She kissed your cheek and hugged you tight, reassuring you that you could do anything you put your mind to.

If that was true, you would be able to say the words.

Jesus Christ, Jacob. Tell her. Time is running out.

You felt panicked, waiting for her to respond. You needed to say the words, but they were stuck in your throat again. You didn’t want to lose her, but your own cowardice was seeing that through.

“I want to run.”

Please, Y/N, run away.

Don’t do this.

“Why, sweetheart? I thought this was what you wanted? You looked so happy in the pictures on the invitation.” Convincing her to leave would be selfish, and she needed you to be selfless. You would be anything she needed, even if it was not what you wanted. “Is… is he good to you?”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded, solemn in her answer. “He’s great.”

“…but?”

“But, I don’t think he’s what I want.” The words were like a breath of fresh air, a million pounds lifted off your shoulders. You were so featherlight that you felt like you were floating away. Hearing her say it was a relief, but it did not stop you from feeling guilty about it. “Everyone said it was okay to be nervous, but I don’t think it’s normal to doubt it. My mom said she was nervous to marry my dad, but she was so certain he was what she wanted. I’m… I’m not. I don’t know if I’m ready to give up my freedom, my last name. I don’t know if I can commit to him for a lifetime, because I can barely even commit to him right now.”

You wanted to ask. You needed to know if that meant what you thought it did.

Fucking tell her.

“I woke up today sick to my stomach, and it hasn’t stopped. I’m sitting here, and… ugh, fuck.” She groaned, her free hand flying to her forehead in exasperation. “I’m the worst, Jake. He’s so good to me, and I just… I don’t want him to be. The last few months, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to leave. If I do and nothing changes, then I’m the bad guy, and I don’t want that. It’s just… I love him, but I’m not in love, I don’t think. It’s boring, and every day is the same. When you’re in love, boring is nice, but this boring is just… boring.”

“Keep talking.” You encouraged, knowing that no matter which way it went, she needed to speak her mind.

“He doesn’t want to do anything. We don’t go anywhere, we don’t go on dates. We just sit at home and stare at each other. It’s been months since we’ve had fun, and I don’t know if I want a lifetime without fun. Even today… I didn’t want this. The big ceremony and the expensive dinner… it’s not me. I hate it, and he thinks I love it.”

You knew it wasn’t her, but you wanted to believe that she was the one who picked it. Hearing her say it broke your heart, knowing that this was not what she dreamed of when you two were kids. It was not what you wanted for her, either.

“I kicked my bridesmaids out because I needed time alone to calm down, and I thought it would work being away from the wedding stuff for a minute. I guess it did, but it wasn’t in the way I hoped it would be.” You reached into your suit jacket, your fingers searching for the inside pocket. They closed around the cool metal, pulling it from its hiding place as you extended your arm towards her. You knew you would need it to get through the day, but you didn’t expect her to need it, too. She looked down at the flask, her lips quirking into a soft smile. She grabbed it from you, placing her painted lips against the opening and throwing her head back.

“I’m your best man, y/n. I need to know if you want me to hold your hand so you’ll stay, or if you want me to start the car so we can get you out of here.”

“Don’t give me that option.” She chuckled, shaking her head as the whiskey burned her chest. Her cheeks turned rosy in reaction to the alcohol, reminding you she was still the same girl she was all of those years ago.

“Why, ‘cause you’ll take it?” You challenged.

“Yeah,” She nodded, answering without hesitation as she watched you take a sip, too.

“Then that’s your answer, doll. Don’t force yourself to stay when all you want to do is run. You feel that way for a reason.” Suddenly, convincing her to leave was no longer your best interest, but hers, too. You did not care what happened outside of the room so long as she was happy, and it appeared to you that she would not be so long as she stayed.

It just so happened to be the option that would make you the happiest, too.

“Thought you were supposed to hold my hand and make me stay? That’s what I always told you to do.”

What if I don’t want to do that?

“Is that what you want?” You asked, noticing your hand still held tightly in her own. She didn’t seem to want to let go.

“No… maybe? I don’t know.” She sighed.

“I always promised I’d do what’s best for you, Y/N, and if holding your hand and making you stay isn’t what you want, I don’t know if I can do it.”

Tell her.

“Would you hold my hand and help me run away?”

“That’s what best friends do, is it not?” You grinned, taking another sip from the flask.

“A best friend would tell me I’m insane, I think.”

“Right,” you give a slow nod, chuckling to yourself. “We’ve always been more like partners in crime, I think.”

“I’d say.” She laughed, nodding with you. “I missed you, Jake.” Your hand tightened over hers, your heart beating a million miles a minute. She held your stare, again adorning that same hopeful glimmer.

Is this what she wanted, or were you only seeing it in such a way because you wanted it so badly? Was she dropping you hints, or were you crazed by how dearly you loved her? Worst of all, should she actually run, or were you encouraging it because you couldn’t stand the thought of her staying?

“I missed you too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

“I feel good, Jake. Better than I have all day.” She confessed, intertwining your fingers with her own and rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand.

“Maybe you just needed to get it out and get on with your day?” You offered, saddened at the thought.

“No,” she shook her head, her voice quiet again. “It’s ‘cause you’re here. Been looking forward to today, but I think the only reason why is because I knew you’d be here.”

Love could not begin to describe how you felt for her, especially after hearing her say such things.

“Is that bad? I’m more excited to see you today than my future husband.” She said, her face plagued with guilt and her beautiful smile fading into a frown. In an instant, your hesitancy faded and you reached your hand out to cup her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, relief showering the both of you. Touching her felt like finally being home after a nasty bout of homesickness. You ran your thumb over her cheek, the makeup littering her skin not even thinking of smudging under your touch.

She was not the thorny rose that hurt you. She was not a beautiful thing that hurt to love. She was the petals, beautiful and breathtaking, and you were the thorn drawing your own blood.

Not once in this lifetime had she ever hurt you. You had become the one who was an expert at harming yourself. In that moment, the ache in your chest had nothing to do with how easy she was to love, and everything to do with the fact you had always been too scared to say it aloud. Relationships with others and miles between you could not dampen the adoration you felt for her, but that was not her fault. If only you had the strength to tell her, maybe the hurt would ease for both of you.

“I want to have fun with him, like the two of us used to have. I want every minute to seem easy, like it does with us, but it isn’t. It’s hard more than it’s ever been simple, and I don’t think that’s how I want to live my life.”

Was she saying it? Were you hearing the words you’d forced yourself to hold back? Was she saying everything you had been feeling all this time?

Tell her, Jacob.

“Even if I do change my mind, I’ve been in here all day saying these terrible things. How can I go out there and marry him after doubting it so much?”

She wanted you to answer her questions, but it was a dead end for both of you. If you encouraged it, it would be an admission of betrayal for her. You were her best friend, the one person who promised not to hurt her. If you encouraged her to run, you might be hurting her far more than it would help her. If you told her to stay, you were faced with the haunting feeling that both of you would look back on this moment and regret the decision.

“Answer this,” you said, keeping your gaze on her as you spoke. “In thirty years, if you marry him today, will you regret staying? Or if you leave, will you look back in thirty years and feel like you made a mistake?”

“I-I can’t answer that Jake. I don’t know.” There was a glossy look in her eye, one that spoke volumes. It was louder than any word she had spoken thus far. The fear and hesitation was clear in her face, and you wanted to comfort her, but you did not know how.

When you got on that plane, flying home to her, you never expected to be faced with such a situation. You never expected to feel hopeful about today, especially after you had spent so many months dreading it.

“I guess… it would be easier to regret leaving than regret staying, right?” She breathed. “If I stay, I’m wasting thirty years. If I leave, I can spend that time learning to love life in other ways, and maybe I’ll never think it was a mistake at all.”

“Right,” You nodded, looking back out the window, noticing people filling chairs. Your heart dropped to your stomach, wondering if she would follow through with her thoughts, or if she would stay out of obligation. Could you keep her occupied for long enough so she could come to the right decision? “I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but I can support whatever you decide.”

“Will… will you take me to Europe with you?” She asked, her eyes pooling with unshed tears. “You’re going back, right? I-I… I want to do what we talked about. I want to travel the world Jake, with you.” She stammered out, as if she couldn’t believe her own words. “I know I sound crazy, I know I do, but I’m not. You’re… you’re my whole world, the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. You’re my best friend, and there’s so many things we promised that we never got to do. I don’t want to miss out on that, or be stuck in my hometown knowing I made a mistake by letting you walk away again.”

“Y/N,” You warned, wondering if she realized the extent of what she was telling you. Suddenly it all became real, and it was much larger than the fantasy you had been living in since you sat down beside her.

Josh was right, and you were breaking your own heart by entertaining an impossible idea.

“No, don’t tell me I’m wrong. I dont want to hear it.” She shook her head, silently pleading with you to be honest with yourself just for one second.

She felt it too. You have to tell her.

“Jake, take me to Europe. I want to see the world. I want to be with you again, and Josh and Sam, and Danny too. I want that more than I’ve ever wanted this. I don’t want to wait a year before I see you again and… I just, I can’t.” She was saying it in every way she knew how, without having to say the actual words aloud. “He’s not the person I should be marrying, Jake.”

You wanted to tell her everything, how you wanted it even more than she did, but it was not right. She was nervous, second guessing because of cold feet on the biggest day of her life. You could not take her away from this and ruin everything. You could not take her away and have her regret choosing you. Making her unhappy would be the biggest mistake of your life, and you would never be able to repent from it.

“Listen to me,” you said, taking her face between your hands, gentle and telling of all the love you had for her. “You wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t right, sweetheart. You are the most self-assured, smart, and level-headed person I know, and right now, this isn’t you. You’re getting married, angel. You’re going to go outside and walk down the aisle and steal everyone’s breath away, because you are the most beautiful thing that’s ever graced this earth. You’re getting married, and you’re going to be happy. I promised you I’d be here to hold your hand so you couldn’t run, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Jake,” she protested, her bottom lip quivering as tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. “What happened to whatever I decide? What happened you supporting me no matter what? Why would you let me say all of that just to tell me I’m wrong?”

“Maybe I lied,” you whispered, swiping away a stray tear. “Trust me when I say, I want you to come with us so badly, but I don’t want you to regret it. Right now, I think you will.”

“I won’t, Jake. Been thinking about it since you got on the plane last time. Every time, really.” She shook her head, panic beginning to set it. More tears made an appearance, and you did your best to wipe them away as soon as they fell.

You loved her enough to do what was best, even if it killed you to do it.

“Don’t cry, angel. Only happy tears, today.” You hummed, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you as if her life depended upon it. You held her just the same, knowing she had no idea how much it meant to you to have her in your arms. She had no idea how much it meant to you that she wanted to go with you, instead.

That was the reason you had to make her stay, though. You could not in good faith allow her to run away, because deep down, the motive would always be just a little bit selfish.

“I love you, Jake.” She said it with so much conviction that it was hard to ignore. She said it like a confession, rather than a fact.

“I love you, sweetheart.” And yours was a confessional statement too, even if she did not realize it. Just as the words left your lips, a knock sounded on the door. It forced the two of you apart, even if it was painful for the both of you. You brought your thumb to her face again, carefully swiping away the specs of mascara that had fallen. Her sadness plagued her, but it did not stand in the way of her beauty. Once she was back in perfect condition, you urged her to answer the door.

She stood, white gown flowing angelically behind her as her fingers wrapped round the golden doorknob. She pulled it open, now face to face with her mother, who was so busy jittering with excitement she failed to notice the grief written across her daughters face. She looked in the room, her eyes landing on you and widening with a joyous shock, happy to see you had made the occasion.

Would her mother be this happy if she knew you almost ruined her daughters big day?

She barely uttered a greeting before turning back to the girl you loved so dearly. “It’s time, sweetheart. Your dad is waiting outside. Are you ready?”

Are you ready? The question pounded in your ears like a drum, louder with every passing moment.

Is she ready?

Are you ready?

Tell her, Jake.

She looked back at you over her shoulder, stunning and breathtaking as if she was waiting for you to answer for her. Her mother watched you, only slightly concerned about the tension in the air.

“She’s ready.” You forced a smile, nodding your head. Her eyes caught yours as she pleaded with you to stop, to stop everything and stay in the room with her for just a little while longer.

She wanted you, the same as you wanted her, but you were not good for her. You were just the thing that was standing in the way of her forever. If it was meant to be, it would have happened all of those years ago.

Right?

Tell her.

“Will you walk with me?” Her voice, sweet as honey and smooth as silk, settled deep somewhere in your heart with no intent to leave. Would you walk with her? Could you handle such heartbreak?

“Of course, sweetheart.” You nodded, taking a stand. You straightened out your jacket, drawing in a long breath as reality began to take hold.

This was it. The very thing you’d had nightmares about your entire life. The love of your life, vowing to love someone else for the rest of hers.

Her mother straightened her hair for her, running a soft hand over the line of her shoulders where lace met soft skin. She ensured she was pristine, not a thread out of place before kissing her cheek and promising to meet her out there. She looked at you only, her gaze never faltering.

She wanted you, Jacob. Only you.

Her mother disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in heavy silence once again. It felt like weights were tied around your ankles, holding you there and sentencing you to an eternity spent in limbo.

Tell her.

“Let’s go, angel.” You said, taking a step towards her. Her eyes, pleading again, but her mouth did not move. She stood, stoic and statue-like. She was petrified from her own heart, unsure if she could take the heartbreak of having you give her away.

“Okay.” She whispered, her throat scratchy and her hands trembling. She reached out to you, the action telling you she still needed you to hold her hand and make her stay. You grabbed on to it, lacing your fingers together once more, unable to ignore how right it felt. “Please stay with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you.” Your chest was tight, burning with rage towards yourself. Why couldn’t you do it? Why were you biting your tongue if it was only hurting the both of you more? You swore yourself to secrecy, letting yourself believe that the truth was more painful than silence, but that was no longer true. The truth would set you free, and possibly even allow you to love the one thing you never allowed yourself to have.

The hallway was barren, but voices were in the distance. Happy, bubbly, excited. The echoes were the exact opposite of the emotion hanging between you two. She should feel that way. Why didn’t she feel that way? She was happy before you showed up, stealing the light from her eyes even on her biggest day.

Was she, though? Really and truly happy?

You two walked together, the personification of grief becoming you both despite the joy you were supposed to be feeling. When you neared the end of the hallway, you had to stop. The world was spinning, seemingly crumbling before your eyes. Your stomach was sick, your palms sweating and your knees ready to give out under your weight. You couldn’t do it, even if you promised her you would.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, panicked at your sudden loss of confidence.

“I…” you trailed off, looking over her face. “I can’t,” you shook your head.

“You can’t?” You can’t what?” She pressed, anger bubbling inside of her. She needed honesty, and she needed it now. Why couldn’t you muster the strength?

“I can’t go out there.”

tell her.

Tell her.

Tell Her.

Fucking Tell Her, Coward.

“I can’t… I can’t watch you marry someone else.”

The world appeared normal, the sun still desperately trying to peek out from underneath the clouds and the birds still singing their pitiful love songs. The chatter remained in the hallway, unchanged and unbearable. Her hand still rested in your own, and her eyes were still watching you. Your heart was still beating, and your knees did not give way. The same look was on her face, and the glimmer in her eyes never changed.

The world looked the same, but everything was different.

Finally, after a lifetime of holding it back, you told her the truth.

“Why?” She asked, desperate to hear you say it. Her expression was not one of horror, but one of great hopefulness. “Tell me Jake. I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You rasped, your own throat dry as your words came out with a nervous wobble. “I can’t watch you marry him, because I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, Jake.” The words hit you hard, like a knife even though she did not brandish them like a weapon. “Took you long enough, don’t you think?” You we’re too immersed in your own confession to care about her chastise. You opened the flood gates, and now there was no sign of stopping.

“When we were five, I loved you. Way back when we used to make mud pies and play pretend in my parents’ front yard, I wanted to do it with you for the rest of my life. When we were twelve, I loved you. We didn’t know what love meant, but we knew how much we meant to each other. When we were sixteen, making plans in your bedroom to travel the world together, I loved you so much it hurt. Right now, I love you the same as I did then, but even more so, because I know what it means, and I know it’s never going to go away.” You confessed, feeling the weight of the world being lifted from you. “Europe wasn’t everything we dreamed of, because you weren’t there. You weren’t there, Y/N, and I spent every night wishing you were. I came home to watch you get married, but I can’t do it, because I love you too much.”

“I can’t get married, Jake.” She said, looking over her shoulder to ensure nobody was onlooking the situation between you.

“I wanted to encourage you, to make sure you followed through with it because you deserve this life, sweetheart. You deserve the house, the dogs and the expensive ring and fancy wedding venue. You deserve everything, but I was always so afraid I couldn’t give it to you. Right now, I’m afraid that nobody could ever give you what I could, because nobody could ever love another person this way, this much.”

“You give me everything, Jake. You gave me the world when we were five, and you’re giving me the world right now, without even knowing it.” She said, the tears rushing to her eyes again. “I can’t get married to him, because I only ever wanted to marry you.” Her cheeks were damp with her misery, feeling guilty on behalf of a man she did not love nearly half as much as you. “I made this life, this new dream because you left, and I was afraid I’d never get the chance to live out the dream we made when we were kids. I spent all day unsure if I was making the right decision, but you showed up at my door, and now I know that I’m not. Marrying him has never been the right decision, and if I go out there, I’ll be looking for you in the crowd, wishing it was you standing beside me, instead.”

“Make the right decision, then.” You pleaded, knowing you could not make the first move. “Make the right decision, Y/N, because I’ve always been too scared to do it myself. Make the right decision before we lose our chance, please.”

She sprung forward, her hand slipping from yours and instead wrapping around your neck. One hand anchored on her hip and the other cupped her cheek, drawing her into you as she pressed her lips to your own. It was a feeling you’d been waiting a lifetime for, but the daydreams never came close to how it truly felt.

You told her, and she made the right decision, just like it was always meant to be. You’d been so afraid of something you never needed to fear, because she loved you just the same.

You could feel her tears on your cheeks as she pulled away, but the smile on her face contradicted the inkling of sadness that lingered on her skin.

“Happy tears, Jake.” She said, her face still so close to your own. “I’m happy, now. I’m not second guessing it, because I’ve spent the last six months making sure this was how I truly felt. Today was the last piece of the puzzle. You walking in that door made everything make sense. As much as it hurts to leave him here, it would hurt him much more if I married him while I was in love with someone else.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You said, running your fingertips over the soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed again, enamoured with the feeling of you touching her.

“Don’t be,” She shook her head. “I could have said it too, but it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is we said it now, before it was too late.”

“You’re dad’s gonna kill me.” She let out a laugh, the first genuine one since you got there.

“No, he’ll be fine. He likes you much more than he likes him.” She assured you. “My mom, though, is a different story. She’ll get over it.” She promised, leaning forward and pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “But, if we’re gonna make a break for it, we should go now, before anyone comes looking for us.”

“Right,” You grinned, nodding in response. “Let’s go get your things. I’ll text Josh.”

“He’s here too?” Her face lit up at the knowledge. You nodded, smiling at her joy.

“Everyone is.”

“Oh, god. They’ll be a witness to my craziness.” She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. The emotion was high, surging through the both of you like never before.

“Your crazy is mine too, angel.” You said, giving her hip a squeeze. “Partners in crime, remember?”

“Right.” She said, grinning up at you.

Without another word, she led you back towards the suite. You closed the door behind you, giving her just enough time to grab the most important things. You watched her scribble a note down on the back of a wedding invitation, likely an apology for the now ex-fiancé she left hanging. As you watched, you couldn’t help but smile, falling more in love with her by the second and only feeling slightly bad for the man she was leaving behind. He was losing the best girl in the world, but you could not dwell on his loss, because it was your gain. You were walking away with the love of your life, and he was losing a fiancé. You were sure the poor guy could find someone else.

To you, if you lost her, you knew there would never be another. Even before you lost her forever, you knew that to be true.

She turned to you, frazzled but still stunning despite her panic. She had a few things clutched tightly in her hand and a change of clothes in her arms, walking towards you and showing you she was not regretting her choice to leave. If anything, she was over the moon, and you could see it in her eyes. Instead of uncertainty, there was happiness sparkling within the beautiful hue of her irises.

“You want me to take that?”

“Yes please.” She breathed, handing the small items off to you. As you grabbed them, you noticed her finger was now ringless. The shiny diamond was sitting atop the goodbye letter, which was stuck in plain sight. “Tell me I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not.” You assured her. “Like I said, if you are, I am too.”

“I’m okay with being crazy together.” She said, more light in her eyes than ever before.

“The guys are gonna meet us in the lot out back, so you can get out of here without any questions. We can worry about the rest later.”

“Okay,” she nodded, a nervous jitter running through her.

“Hey, we’ll be okay. Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.” She said, certain in her answer.

“Then let’s get out of here.” You grinned, opening the door for her. She was still in her dress, her change of clothes held tightly to her chest. Before she stepped back into the hallway, she kicked off her heels and kissed your cheek as she passed by. As she sprinted down the hallway, your whole body flooded with love, but this time, you did not need to hold it back. After a lifetime of surpressing it, it finally had somewhere to go.

In true crazy fashion, as you sprinted behind her, another idea popped in your head. You wondered if her crazy had run out, or if she was just crazy enough to go along with it.

You thought you ought to try, because the day had been full of pleasant surprises. After all, the worst she could do was say no.

“Hey,” You called out to her, laughing as she looked back at you over her shoulder. “Slow down for a second.” You pleaded, childlike joy reflecting on both of your faces.

“What’s up?” She asked, a little breathless as her feet slowed to a stop. “Please tell me you’re not changing your mind.”

“What? F’course not.” You waved the idea off, knowing it was completely incredulous. “How impulsive are you feeling right now?”

“Considering I just ran away from my own wedding, I’d say very. Why?” She grinned, her fingers lingering over the handle of the back door, ready to flee at a moments notice.

Perhaps she wasn’t impulsive at all, and the idea of staying was harder for her than trying to leave. She was waiting for you to ask, all of this time. Even as she forced herself to marry someone else, all she ever wanted was you.

“Why waste the dress?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. She watched you for a moment, stunned at your words and unsure if she understood.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you began, checking over your shoulder to ensure nobody was looking for her. “Why waste the expensive dress? Marry me instead.” Her eyes widened, but she did not look horrified at the prospect. “I mean, come on. You’re in a wedding dress, I’m in a suit, I can buy flowers anywhere, and I want to be with you so bad I was willing to object the whole thing in the middle of your vows. If it hasn’t changed in twenty years, I’m sure it won’t change tomorrow.”

“A-are you sure? Like, really sure? You won’t regret it in the morning?” She asked, curious if you were in your right mind.

“I wouldn’t regret it in a million years, my love.” You promised. “I promise I’ll do it right, I’ll buy a ring and we’ll do a ceremony when the smoke clears from this disaster.” You both let out a laugh, knowing that’s exactly what it was. “But why waste the dress, especially when we know what we want?”

“Okay, crazy.” She nodded, cracking the door open. “I’ll marry you. Why waste the dress?”

“You mean it?” You followed behind her, noticing the rocks littering the paved lot and her shoeless feet. You reached out, grabbing her arm before she could step outside. She looked at you, then looked down at you taking your shoes off for her to wear. Her cheeks tinged red, a silent thank you dancing in her eyes as she jumped into the shoes that were just a little too large for her. You looked out into the lot, finding your three brothers standing by your car, waiting for you to join them.

“F’course I do, Jake.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze. “Partners in crime, right?” You couldn’t seem to stop the smile from blooming once again.

“Partners in crime.” You confirmed, stepping outside into the warm afternoon air.

“I love you, Jake.” She said, the sun shining down on her beautiful face, illuminating her in the most perfect picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. “Feels so good to finally say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You replied, taking in your surroundings. As you watched the sunlight shine over her face, your heart soared with affection. “Look,” you said, catching her attention. First, she looked to you, then followed your finger to the sky, where she could see the sun had finally broke free from the clouds, shining down without a single thing brave enough to stop it. “The sun is shining after all, sweetheart.”

As if you needed anything else to solidify that you had made the right decision, but the sun shining, eager to carry you home to start over only correctly this time, was enough to assure you of the importance of your choice. As you led her to the car, watching her eyes light up as she greeted your brothers, you were sickened at the idea you ever had a single shred of doubt at all. She was your partner in crime, whether that be at five years old, or eighty, and you were eternally grateful for that fact alone.

135 notes · View notes

builtbybrokenbells · 22 days

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VALOR MASTERPOST

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader, Jake x OC, Daniel x OC

Word Count: 283k+

WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES: 18+ MINORS DNI - Alcohol, Gambling, Smoking, Marijuana, Cursing, Dramatic Themes, Nightmares. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Mentions of Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Struggle and Poverty, Suicidal Thoughts, Allusions to Suicide, Mentions of Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Cheating, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Fire & Property Loss, Physical Fighting, Blood.

This story is a collaboration with my lovely pal @gretavanmoon.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

Chapter List:

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five Part One | Five Part Two

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine Part One | Nine Part Two

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Epilogue

#t’s fic recs

139 notes · View notes

builtbybrokenbells · 22 days

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i finally got the chance to finish, and let me tell you, if you haven’t read this yet, get to it. Bravo, thank you for blessing us with another phenomenal story 🤍

Valor (Epilogue)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Major Fluff, Talks of Marriage, Talks of Pregnancy, More Fluff, and Kissing.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A/N: Thank you all so much for all the support you have shown us throughout the entirety of this series. We had the best time writing this and building this world, and we know a little piece of Valor will live with us forever. Keep your eyes peeled for our next project coming to you soon!🍀

A project in collaboration with my talented co-writer and best friend, @gretavanmoon.

“Love is many things. It is varied. One thing love is not, is unsure.” - Maya Angelou

TEN MONTHS LATER

JAKE POV

“Night, Jake! See you Monday!”

“G’night Sal, have a good weekend!” you hear the back door to the shop slam closed as your mechanic paces out, signifying the end of the work week. It had been a long one, customers and vehicles flying in and out of the shop more quickly than you could really keep up with, but nonetheless, you were thankful for them and their loyalty.

A quick glance to the clock on the wall reads 5:07, and you know that Y/N will have dinner ready soon. You know not to be late, or you’ll risk having to eat the cold leftovers that your brothers left behind. You toss your dirty rag over into the bucket and strip out of your coveralls, your mouth suddenly watering at the thought of a hot meal and a couple cold beers to rinse down the chaos of your busy week.

You flip the lights off and fumble for your keys, turning before you exit to make sure everything is off and in its place, ready for your return on Monday morning. You take a second, letting the feeling hit you that you have finally done it. You finally have your own shop, with your name on the front of the building, your name on the deed, and your reputation proceeding you more positively than it has your entire life. You’ve always had a hard time being proud of yourself, but as the days flow by and the success of the business grows, you let yourself bask in it. You let yourself be proud of the new life you’ve created with your family.

The gold of the setting sun hits your eyes as you make your way through the parking lot to Valor, your dirty boots tracking grease behind you as you walk. You receive a few fond waves of goodbye from your fellow business owners closing up their own shops for the weekend. You’d been anxious about buying the older mechanic’s shop right in the middle of Memphis, but it had been kept up well, and the old man that owned it was over the moon that a young man like yourself showed so much interest in making it your own. He even let you keep all of his old tools and supplies after your stern but appreciative declination, insisting that he ‘Ain’t got no more use for ‘em, anyway’. It’s smaller than the old shop in Joslyn, but the setup is efficient, and the foundation is sturdy. And it had fallen right into your lap for an extremely reasonable price.

You force the key into the lock of Valor, twisting it to hear the mechanism unlock and spring free. You cruise out of the lot and toward home, ready to relax the evening away as a brand new, twenty-seven year old business owner. It was funny, and a little ironic, honestly, that this was the first birthday you are spending not drunk and trying to fix Ace’s pride and joy. For the past seven years, that had been all you’d known on your birthday- drink until you’re blind, try to figure out what’s wrong with the son of a bitch, get too mad to figure it out, and give up. You gave up, every single time.

…Until Y/N came around and turned your entire world on its axis. She’d thrown you into an adventure you never expected, and had half a mind to destroy altogether, until you fell in love with her. Now she’s all you know, all you want. All you think about, all you want to be surrounded by. You’d picked out a house together and made it into a home, you’d filled it with cheap furniture and secondhand items, but neither of you cared. It was yours. And you were happy with what you had.

The memory of Ace still lies heavy on your mind, especially now that you’re surrounded with a whole new set of faces that laugh like him, walk like him, feel like him…

Since being away from Joslyn and all the negativity it held, you’d finally found your happiness. But you hate to admit that you with the absence of the shop and the reminder of his death in your home, you have also begun to mourn Ace all over again. For some reason that makes absolutely no sense at all, you feel him more, here. In a place he’d never been. You can’t figure out why, but you like to believe that maybe he has finally found his peace, now that the truth about his death is out and that justice has been served with Teddy. It’s twisted, and confusing and dark, but this time around, the mourning feels healthy. Like you finally get to let him go in the way you should have when you were eighteen. You know he’s looking out for you, now.

Every evening after work, you climb into Valor and roll the windows down, turn up the radio as loud as it will go, and you talk to him. This…this is where you feel him most. You tell him about your day, about the business, about Sam and Josh and Danny and Y/N. You can almost feel him riding along with you in the passenger seat, cigarette hanging from his lips as he leans an elbow out the window.

Sam looks like him. Sam looks a lot like him. Sam is taller and lankier, of course, but there is something about his features and quirks that sometimes makes you stop in your tracks. You’d always been told by Bubba and even Danny that you look most like Ace, but of course you couldn’t see that. But you see Ace every single time Sam gets confused, which is rare, but. The way his eyebrows sink together as he thinks, the way his arms move when he talks…it was all Ace. You wonder if you and Josh look like Stella.

Finally, you can say Ace’s name without feeling like your mouth is full of concrete. You can finally laugh when you tell his old stories. And today is no different, except now you’re telling him that his other sons are waiting for you to get home quickly.

…Maybe you’ll have a few beers. It is your birthday, after all.

—

You pull into the wide driveway at the same time as Josh, the music blaring out of the speakers of his Beamer. You slam the door to Valor closed, making a mental note to give her a spit shine tomorrow.

“Happy birthday you greasy son of a bitch!” Josh grabs you up in a giant embrace as you both round the fronts of your respective vehicles.

“Happy birthday, brother,” you smile as you let him bring him in.

“Look at us, twenty fucking seven, huh? Never thought I’d live this long, let alone live long enough to see it with you.”

You laugh, but only a little. “I dunno if that should make me happy or sad, Josh.”

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya,” he jests as you both walk up the cement sidewalk to your front porch. “We’re gonna live to be ninety nine. Both of us. And we’ll be sitting on our asses bossin’ our kids and grandkids and great grandkids around all day long. That sound like a plan to you?” You’d known your twin for only around ten months now, but you still have trouble getting used to his personality always being on one hundred as yours normally stayed on a calm and cool fifty. But damn, if you didn’t love the guy.

You place a hand on his shoulder before you turn the knob to open the door. “Sure, brother. Ninety nine.” You open the door and kick off your boots, making your way into the house with Josh in tow. You know for a fact, though, that you want nothing more than to do the exact thing Josh had just explained. Living out the rest of your days with him by your side sounds like the perfect way to spend your life. You have to, now. Neither of you have gone a day without seeing each other since the day you finally met. Though you live separate lives, they have begun to intertwine, just like they have always been destined to. You hardly want to make a move without running it by him first.

“Babe! I’m home!” you yell through the house, finding it oddly quiet. “Babe!”

“In here, Jake!” you hear her sweet voice from the kitchen. You make your way in, seeing her standing with her arms awkwardly crossed at her chest, and a coy smile playing on her lips. Sam is beside her, a towel tossed over his shoulder. He has the same look of anticipation. A few more steps and you’re in the kitchen, seeing a familiar face you truly thought you’d never see again.

“Jacob, my boy! How are you?!” Oz’s gruff voice hasn’t changed a bit.

“Oz! What are you doing here?!” you make your way over to him, taking him in a handshake and friendly embrace. “Shit, I thought I’d never see you again!”

“Of course you were gonna see me again, boy! I’m Oz! The wizard…” He bites his unlit cigar between his teeth as he gives you an ear-to-ear smile, taking in your appearance. “Forgive me, Jake, this is my Lucienda.” He backs away and presents her to you… a tall, mysterious woman whose facial features nearly knock you over, she’s so ethereally beautiful. She gently reaches her hand out to you, and you take it with the utmost caution. Your reflexes almost tell you to kiss her hand, but you stop yourself.

“So nice to meet you, ma’am. Oz is… an excellent friend.” you mutter, still taken with her piercing deep brown eyes.

“The pleasure is mine, Jacob. Truly. Oscar has told me much about you, and your brother Daniel. I’m sorry I never got to witness one of your matches before everything happened, I hear you and Daniel were quite the competitors.” Her voice sounds like silk drifting over clouds, soft and serene.

“Uh, yes ma’am. Daniel…Daniel taught me everything I know, actually. I’m so sorry he’s not here to see you, too…”

“Yeah, yeah… where is that long-haired rascal, huh?” Oz intervenes as you’re still processing why Lucienda was never at any of your fights.

“He’s in and out, we see him every few weeks, or so.” Y/N explains. “He’s busking all over the state, hopping around and getting little gigs here and there.”

“Busking? He plays music?” Lucienda asks, a bit surprised.

“He does,” you say. “He’s pretty damn good, too.”

“Boy’s got many talents, doesn’t he?” Oz bellows his giant laugh. “That’s a shame… Though we’re happy to see our old friends, we were hoping we would catch you all here, together…” Oz says, stepping closely toward you as he rolls his cigar between his fingertips. “It’s been some months now, boy, and I finally feel safe goin’ back to my old ways, you know? Time to call up Hector and get things rollin’ again. Luce and I were in town, thought we’d stop in and see if you and Daniel would like to join us again…”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caught off guard by his question. Your eyes scan from Oz to Lucienda to Y/N, and even quickly to Sam as you contemplate, all of them patiently waiting for your answer.

“I dunno, Oz… I–I’m doin’ well for myself and my family, I’ve finally got a shop of my own, makin’ good honest money, payin’ my bills, ya know. Things I couldn’t do wi–”

“With that motherfucker Teddy breathin’ down ya neck?” he snaps, flipping his coattail back and shoving his hand in his pocket.

You’re silent for just a second. “Yeah… he, definitely didn’t help matters.”

“Heard about what happened back in Missouri. What happened to our buddy Fridge. Your brother and Y/N here just explained all the rest.” Oz stands in front of you now, his eyes narrowed as his hand rests on your shoulder. “Jacob, I’m so sorry about your father. How everything went down with… alla that. I didn’t know ya daddy, but if he’s anything like you, and your brothers, here… he must have been one hell of a man. Didn’t deserve to go out like that. Especially at the hand of such a condescending scum of the earth monster like Teddy.” Oz’s voice is quieter than you’d ever heard it, and you can feel the sincerity dripping from his words. You nod slowly, silently thanking him for his condolences. “If you ever want a place on my roster again, it’s yours. You hear? Daniel, too. You boys have a lot of heart in you. Crowds loved you. Don’t like to see it wasted, but I’m proud of you and what you’ve built here.”

“Thank you, Oz.” you say genuinely.

“Plus, I bet you get mighty jealous when you watch your brother here fight in the pros, huh?” Oz backs away and is his candid, overzealous self again as he takes Josh in a headlock. “Hector’s pride and joy, this one here!”

Josh’s face turns a bright red as he barely struggles to free himself from the likes of a legend like Oz. “I don’t know about pride and joy, Oz, but I would say I’m his favorite!” you hear Josh boast from beneath Oz’s arm pit.

You slowly make your way over to Y/N, taking her in an after-work hello hug as the two of you finally find a free second. Sam busies himself with something in the oven while Lucienda sips on whatever martini Y/N mixed up for her. “How was your day, baby?” she mutters into your chest.

“Perfect, now,” you breathe as you kiss the top of her head.

“Y/N, my sweetheart, come sit with me,” you hear Lucienda’s soothing voice beckon Y/N, patting the empty barstool on the other side of the kitchen island. Y/N gives you a look of confusion, and instantly, you know what she is about to ask. You let her free from your arms and watch as she walks to take the seat beside her.

You and Y/N had discussed this before, one late night lying in bed right after everything had gone down in Miami, and you’d finally made it back to Joslyn. She’d expressed how she was upset at the timing of it all, because she was really enjoying learning the tricks of the trade when it came to the underground fighting business. She was picking it up quickly, and she was good at it. Moreover, Lucienda apparently trusted her, at least that’s what Oz had told her when he basically forced her to lie to you about going to Atlanta for them, her very first test of loyalty. And she’d passed with flying colors.

Now, as you watch her sit beside the beautiful anomaly of a woman that is Lucienda, you see just how much Y/N mirrors her. Not so much in looks, but in confidence. In manner, and in poise. She’s quick-witted and smart, everything Lucienda is most likely looking for in a business partner. Your heart drops into your stomach with anticipation for her, and what Lucienda could be proposing.

Just then you hear a harsh knock on the door that startles you. A familiar knock that you’d heard a thousand times. Two quick knocks, followed by one…

“I’ll get it!” Josh hops up from his stance and rushes to the door as your stomach flips with anticipation. Seconds later, Josh is re-entering the kitchen with Bubba following closely behind him.

“Bub?!” you wail, rushing to take him in your arms similarly as you did with Oz, but with a lot more heart behind it. “What is everyone doin’ here?”

Bubba opens his arms to you as you crash into him, feeling like the world is finally right where it needs to be. Bubba is here, Bubba is safe. You feel his chin rest on your shoulder as your arms squeeze each other, and you have to fight back a tear that’s threatening to drip from your eye.

“Bub, you drove here?! Or did you fly, when did you–”

“I drove, boy!” he chuckles as he pulls back from you.

“Bubba, that’s a long trip, and you came all by yourself?” suddenly you are overwhelmingly worried about him driving such a long distance.

“Shoot, boy. Ain’t nothin’ but open roads. Stopped ‘bout every few hours to fill up the tank and stretch my legs. Was nice, seein’ outside of Joslyn again. Been a good bit since I traveled. Plus, wasn’t gonna miss your birthday, son. Important day for yeh. For all of us.” Bubba squeezes his hat between his hands as he speaks. It hit you that this day is hard for him, too. The anniversary of losing the best friend he ever had.

You give him a reassuring smile as you invite him further into your home. “M’glad you came, Bub. Missed you. You like the digs?” you ask as you motion around the house.

“Hell of a home, boy. Y/N has it lookin’ mighty nice, too. Proud of you. Both of you.”

“Thanks Bub. I hate that Danny ain’t here to see you. He’s probably gonna be callin’ here in a bit, though.” you say.

“Funny you should mention that, boy.” Bubba responds with a chuckle and a nod of his head. “Go take a look outside.”

You dash back out the front door, finding Danny sitting straddled over his bike, pulling his helmet off of his curls. You throw your arms up to your sides. “What is this, a family reunion?!” you squeal as Danny hangs his helmet off his handlebars and begins to make his way up the drive to you. “Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“What, you think I was gonna miss seein’ you on your birthday? We don’t do that anymore, Jake. Not like I live five hundred miles away or somethin’,” Danny rushes you and tackles into you, pushing his shoulder into your chest. “God, you smell good. Diesel fuel and grease. Fuck, I miss it sometimes.”

“Come back home and work for me then, asshole. Strange not havin’ you around,” you say honestly, but knowing that he was out making his dreams come true just the same as you are.

“Might one day,” he says. “Might not.” He gives you a quick shove to the shoulder. “You miss me don’t you?”

“I don’t, but I know somebody that misses you an awful lot…” you say, making your way back inside.

“Who, Y/N? I told you, Jake. If she misses me that much, she can stay with me on the couch when I come visit but that’s all I’ll agree to…”

“No, you fuckin’ idiot. Look who else came to visit…” you watch Danny’s eyes light up as he sees Bubba standing in the doorway.

“Bubba! What in the hell are you doin’ here?!” Danny takes Bubba in a warm embrace just as you had.

“Saw yeh ridin’ that bike of yours as I was comin’ through town, knew you had to be headin’ this way, too. Heard you comin’ down the road behind me.” Bubba explains. “Josh and Sam invited me up here for the birthday celebration, though I ain’t much of a surprise…”

“Of course you are, Bub,” Danny says. “Just like old times.”

As the three of you step through the front door you notice balloons covering the ground in the living room and a few red streamers twisted across the doorways. You see Josh in the corner, tying off a balloon, slingshotting it to the floor to meet the rest. They’d quickly decorated in your absence.

“What’s all this?” you ask, a little confused, stepping further into the room. You kick at the balloons, watching the colors dance across the floor.

“What, you never had a birthday party before?” Josh jokes, blowing air into another balloon. You stare at him, unsure how to tell him that you hadn’t. “Shit, really?”

“Casserole is ready!”

You laugh, shaking your head as you hear Sam call out to you from the kitchen. Of course he made that casserole. You walk with Josh, feeling his arm swing around your shoulder. Bubba and Daniel bring up the back as the four of you congregate with the others in the kitchen, finding Y/N deep in conversation with Oz and Lucienda.

You catch the tail end of Oz’s story, listening in as he wraps it up. “...And so I called up my buddy Frankie, and he made a few phone calls. Was out a few days later. Cost me some dough but here I am.”

“They can’t lock up the Oz for too long.” Lucienda adds, turning attention to you and Daniel as you enter. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

“Daniel! My boy, there you are! I didn’t think i’d be seein’ ya!” Oz shouts, reaching across you to shake Daniel’s hand.

“Here I am.” he smiles, returning his firm handshake.

“Was just telling Y/N how I was able to get out of that mess in Miami.” he says, looking to you and Bubba. “But, now it’s a party! Sam, I heard that casserole of yours is ready. We won’t keep you, just wanted to stop by and say hello.”

“Oh good, another casserole!” Daniel jokes.

“Shut up Daniel, you love my cooking.” Sam mocks.

“Please, you should both stay. We have plenty, and there’s cake!” Y/N interjects, her voice hopeful.

“What do ya think Luce? I wouldn’t mind.” Oz asks.

“I think it’s a great idea, I happen to love a good casserole.” she smiles, nodding her head at Y/N.

—

The seven of you gather around your dining room table, sharing the meal that your brother so kindly made for you. A few streamers hang from the light fixture, and the table is filled with talking and laughter. You take a second to take in your surroundings, finding that nearly every single person that is important to you is seated around this table.

You let your hand grip into Y/N’s thigh, a silent ‘thank you’ for putting this all together. The life you have now wouldn’t have been possible without her, and you suddenly can’t imagine your life any other way.

“So how did you find us?” Daniel asks Oz, taking another forkful of his second plate of casserole.

Oz lifts his fork to point at Sam, your head snapping to look over at him. “Got a call from my buddy here. Wanted me to have your new phone number. Got to talkin’. Told me what went down with you boys, how you found each other, and everything with ya daddy. Hell of a life boys. Hell of a story. Respect the hell out of you all, not many people face the things you have. Anyway, got your address from him, figured I could pop in next time I was passin’ through, and here I am.”

“We’re glad you came. Here just in time for the party.” Y/N adds, her voice sweet as she turns to look at you.

“Yeah, I’m glad you came. All of you.” you say, looking from Oz to Bubba, and finally to Daniel.

The phone ringing breaks the tension of the sweet moment, Josh’s chair skidding across the floor as he jumps up. “I’ll grab it! Be right back!”

You all share a smile, truly trying to piece together where he draws his endless energy from.

“Should we move to the living room, I’m taking song requests…” Daniel jokes, standing from the table.

Oz and Lucienda laugh, standing along with Bubba as the four of them make their way into the living room.

“Thanks for this Sammy, it was perfect.” you nod, giving him a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome, brother. Happy Birthday.” he smiles, standing from the table to join the others in the living room.

Now it’s just you and Y/N left at the dining table, her hand playing with yours as it rests in her lap.

“Jake…” she starts, turning to look at you.

“Yeah baby? What’s up?” you answer.

“Lucienda…She offered me the job.”

Your smile takes over your face, as you squeeze her hand in yours. “You should do it!”

“Well, I told her I wanted to talk to you first. We haven’t really even talked about it. I mean, it’s kind of a big commitment, and we just sorta got our life started here, ya know?” she says, her eyes peering into yours.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We did, and it’s perfect. But I know you love that job, and you are so good at it. You have to take it Y/N. I want you to take it.”

“I mean, is this…Is this what we want to do?” she asks, swallowing nervously.

You cup her cheek in your hand, offering her a soft grin. “Baby, I want you to do what you love. You know I’ll be here waiting for you. You’ve got me. I’m yours.”

She turns her head in your palm to place a kiss on your hand. “What about… You know…”

You laugh, biting your lips together before turning your eyes back to hers. “We keep trying. You’ll only be gone a few days every couple of weeks. That’s plenty of time to practice. We will figure it out. Take it as it comes.”

She shakes her head and leans forward to place a sweet kiss to your lips. “I like that plan.”

“Me too, baby. You have no idea.”

“I made you a real cake this year, but you’ll have to pretend that it’s half Josh’s and share.” she smiles, standing up from her chair.

Your hands grab her hips and pull her into you, “What if I kinda wanted the other kind?” you whisper into her chest, kissing the skin exposed by the dip in her dress.

She bends down to take your lips in another kiss, this one a little longer. “Then you’ll be happy to know it’s in the freezer. That's one tradition I won’t ever let die.”

“I fuckin’ love you, Y/N. For the rest of my life, I swear.”

“I love you, Jake.” she answers, sauntering off into the living room where Daniel’s guitar is filling the room with music.

You push up from the table and walk into the kitchen, finding Josh and Sam working on the dishes. You spy the cake she was talking about, sitting proudly on the small kitchen table, a glass cover over top of the two layer cake. Your heart leaps in your chest as you look at it. A real birthday cake, not only for you, but for your twin.

This past year has been one of the hardest of your life, but also one of the most rewarding. Every hardship had brought you something great in return, and every challenge, a reward larger than you ever imagined possible.

Josh steps over to you, admiring the cake alongside you, nudging your arm with his elbow. “I think it’s safe to say that she loves you a lot, man.”

“I know she does. She loves all of us. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve her.” you admit.

He laughs, slapping his hand across your back, “You gonna make an honest woman out of her? Marry her? Maybe make me Uncle Josh?” he jokes, but you turn and look at him, a note of seriousness on your face.

You don’t respond, just smiling and shrugging your shoulders playfully.

“Is that right? Which part?” he presses.

You shrug again, not wanting to give up the truth, but the thing about having a twin…there is no such thing as a secret.

“Wait, she’s not already…” he questions, and you quickly shake your head.

“No, no. Not yet.” you answer, peering through the doorway to see if you can catch a glimpse of her in the living room.

“So…”

“So, hopefully sooner rather than later.” you answer, not wanting to tell him too much.

“Fuck yeah, so you two are like, trying to then…” he asks, grabbing Sam’s attention. He walks over to join you with a huge smile on his face.

“What was that?” he asks, grinning ear to ear.

“Nothing, be quiet…” you urge, looking over your shoulder.

“Jake and Y/N are doin’ the damn thing.” Josh laughs.

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re being too loud, she's gonna kill me! Don’t you dare tell her that I even mentioned this.” you growl, secretly feeling the same excitement they are.

“You’ll be a great dad, Jake.” Sam whispers, placing his hand on your back as he returns to the kitchen sink.

You hear the doorbell ring, wondering who else could possibly show up tonight. Everyone you knew was in your house already.

“I’ll grab it.” Josh says, stepping away from you and into the hallway. Sam dries the last dish and puts it away, tossing the wet dish rag onto the counter.

“Thanks for doing that man, I appreciate it.” you say, leaning onto the kitchen table.

“No problem, happy to do it. Should we, uh, go see who is at the door?” he asks, straightening his shirt.

“Probably a damn salesman, they are bad around here this time of day.” you scoff, watching him make his way into the hallway.

You start to follow after him, but something stops you. You notice the fresh flowers on the kitchen table, bright yellow, pink and green, sitting proudly in a familiar old rusted coffee can. You think back to Y/N telling you that her mother kept wildflowers on their kitchen table, and now, she was keeping that tradition going. You swore right then that you’d pick every flower you ever saw just to make her happy.

A new realization has your heart leaping in your chest. You know you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Here, in your very own home, with your brothers and the love of your life, ready to start something bigger. To be something bigger than you ever dreamed possible for yourself. You could confidently say that at this point in your life you were happy, and you didn’t see that changing. You didn’t want it to.

You let out a content sigh as you make your way down the hallway, finding it oddly quiet as you make your way towards the living room. You shove your hands in your pockets as you walk, seeing Y/N just stepping out of the hallway bathroom. She links her arm through yours as you walk, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Kinda quiet in here.” she murmurs just as you step into the living room. You see Josh and Sam standing in front of the door, quietly talking to whoever is on the other side. It’s when they step away from the open door that you stop in your tracks.

There standing at your front door is someone you never expected to see. Someone you’d only seen in photographs, black and white at that. You told yourself it couldn’t possibly be her, but as she steps through the door you get a better look at her, confirming what your heart already knew to be true.

She walks slowly towards you, a soft smile on her face, stopping in front of you as Josh and Sam step up behind her.

“My Jacob…” Her voice is a whisper, a look of long awaited relief on her face as she lays eyes on you for the first time in over twenty years. You feel Y/N’s grip on your hand tighten, a reassuring squeeze bringing you back to reality. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you step closer to her, a smile crossing your lips knowing that the final piece in the puzzle of your life had finally fallen into place.

“Mom…”

Thank you all so much for everything. See you soon.

Taglist: @gretavanmoon @wetkleenex-gvf @eyelinerjake @farfromthehomelands @sacredstarcatcher @britney-gvf @stardustjake @jakesmustache @starshine-wagner @mweasley19 @emsfallingsky @joopsenthusiast @ageofbajabule @ladywhimsymoon @vanfleeter @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @ageoflou @freefallthoughts @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @literal-dead-leaf @welllauragvf @writingcold @bizzielisteningtogreta @neptune2324 @itsafullmoon @violet-hayes @gvfmarge @demonrat444 @mybussyinchrist @cl0ver-j4de @earthgrlsreasy @what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama @mama-likes72 @lenagvf @laurngvf @racheljuneeee @farfromthehomelands @cat3rpillarbaby @cassiesgreta @jarmonicasweat @violet-hayes @ghostly--photography @josh-iamyour-mama @raviolilegs @gvfmarge @milkgemini @jaketlove @watchingover-hypegirl @ageoflou @cl0ver-j4de @takenbythemadness @lightmyloverry

@flightofseams @torniturntomyarrow @allmylovejtk @m0uthfl13s @klarxtr @styles-canvas @fleet-of-fiction @gretavanbear @builtbybrokenbells @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @starrymoonslut @lightmy-love @edgingthedarkness @gvfmarge @dannys-dream @demonrat444 @jjwasneverhere @fleetingofthegretas @highway-tuna @gretas-sweat @darianh07 @age0fwagner @stardustjake @Catharu77 @milkgemini @watchingover-hypegirl @lightmy-love @erlha @twinszka @peaceloveunitygvf

#t’s fic recs #danny recs #jake recs

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builtbybrokenbells · 23 days

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also wanted to send you love and well wishes! your writing is phenomenal and an inspiration. take all the time you need and i know i’ll definitely be awaiting your happy return. 💕

thank you so much my love 🤍 you have no idea how much that means to me. I appreciate you more than you know!

#asks <3 #thank you 🫶🏻#i love you all so so so much

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builtbybrokenbells · 23 days

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Hi just wanted to come here and tell you, that I appreciate your writing so much. Take your time, hope you get through what ever is happening right now. Sending Love♥️♥️

hi, and I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you! this put a smile on my face after what seems like forever. thank you so much lovely 🤍🤍

#asks <3 #you are the best #i appreciate you so much

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builtbybrokenbells · 23 days

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hi everyone 🤍 just making this post to be 100% clear and transparent with you all. i have absolutely nothing in the works right now, and i have no idea when i will. (to nobody’s surprise) life has been kicking my ass, and almost worse than it ever has before. i tried so hard to write something all week, even mulled through some requests to get some motivation, but I’ve got nothing.

i love you all, and I’m not trying to disappear off the face of the earth. I will be back hopefully sooner than later 🫶🏻

#tori rambles #i love you all

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builtbybrokenbells · 26 days

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I was tagged by @do-it-jakey-baby. Thanks so much 🤍

New Music Share Game. Go onto your Spotify Day List, shuffle and take the first 5 songs. Could you survive a day on these 5 songs?:

I think I could definitely survive, and probably enjoy it too 🤔

No pressure tags: @sparrowofthedawnsworld @alwaysonthemend @gvfpal

#Spotify #tag game #thanks so much 🤍

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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belladonna | iii (pt. 2)

too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

masterlist | taglist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word count: 21k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, sorta rough sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, slight dom/sub, slight brat/brat tamer dynamic, praise, multiple orgasms, mentions of orgasm denial, degradation, name calling, pet names, biting, mentions of toxic/abusive parents, mentions of/toxic relationships/emotionally abusive relationships, mentions of criminal activity/criminal records, poverty, mentions of homelessness, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of AA/NA, NA meetings, heavy descriptions of addictions, use of/mentions of drugs, mentions of relapsing, mentions of OD, mentions of drinking, painful amount of flirting, mentions of hookups/sex, smoking, depression/anxiety, mental health struggles, swearing, sorry if I miss any!!

my favourite part so far 😁 finally some confidence from the two lovebirds. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍

You had never felt so good. You had never felt so alive. You wondered, if his company felt so rewarding even after such a short period of time, what would months feel like with your heart and soul entangled in his. For once, the unknown was exciting rather than paralyzing. As gravity pulled you closer, you began to believe that you could live in the unknown with Danny until the end of time, and it would be inexplicably better than existing within the known without him by your side. He was so close, and it was hard not to jump. You wanted everything all at once, but savoring him seemed like the only option. His lips were nearly brushing against your own, and despite your earlier efforts at shoving the feelings away, you needed him to close the gap between you. You needed it like water, but you were so parched that you couldn’t speak the words nor go in search of it yourself.

You knew how foolish it was to leave your fate in the hands of another, but for once, not even your own psyche seemed to be able to ruin the moment for you.

“Hey, guys. I’m gonna take Rose outside, seems like—oh… sorry.” Sam’s voice cut through the static silence in the room, causing you to immediately shy away from Danny. You peeked at Sam, mostly hiding behind the boy standing before you. Your cheeks were crimson, incriminating you further. Danny dropped his hand to your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance as he noticed the look on your face. Then, he turned to face his best friend, giving him a smile but shooting daggers with his eyes.

“Sure thing, we’ll meet you out there.” He said, keeping his tone light so you wouldn’t notice his upset. Sam gave a sympathetic look, mouthing another ‘I’m sorry’ at him before he backed out of the room. Danny stayed in the position for a moment, almost too embarrassed to look back in your direction. His hand was still on your arm, sending shivers down your spine while you hoped things would not become weird between you two. “Sorry, y/n.” Danny said, finally managing to place his fear to the side as he turned to look back at you.

“No, don’t be sorry.” You shook your head. “Really, it’s okay.” You wanted to tell him how badly you wanted it, to express your desire to follow through with the earlier idea, but you could not force the words out of your mouth. You hoped that he could see it in your eyes, that if he looked hard enough he could understand exactly how you were feeling without you having to say anything at all. He studied your expression for a moment, a small smile crossing his lips as he nodded. He understood, and because he understood so well, he didn’t feel the need to force you to say it.

“You wanna get going? We can head to that park you were talking about?” He offered, knowing that a change in environment might help you to forget about the lingering embarrassment.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me.” You nodded. He gave you another smile, one that was more reassuring than the last. He made a move to step away, but you reached out and grabbed his hand to hold him in place. “Wait.” You said, your stomach taken over by a nervous flutter.

“What’s up, Utah?” He asked, looking down at your hand in his. He didn’t need to say it for you to know that he also believed it felt right.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked. He cocked his head to the side, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Yellow or orange, I guess. Reminds me of summer.” How fucking fitting that his favourite colour was the same colour as the sun. To you, he was the sun. Bright and beautiful, warm and inviting, but dangerous if you got too close or stayed near without any protection. “Why?”

“I was just… curious, I guess.” You said, feeling stupid for asking such a childish question.

“What’s yours?”

“Purple.” You replied without hesitation. “Every shade.” You clarified. “What’s your middle name?”

“Robert.” He chuckled. “You want to know me better or something?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Is it a crime?”

“No,” he shook his head, unable to express how happy he was that you cared to ask the questions at all. “When’s your birthday?”

“June 28th.” You grinned. “You?”

“December 29th.” He said, holding on to your hand a little tighter.

“Favorite album?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Careful, now. This might be a dealbreaker.”

“That’s a tough one.” He sighed, noticing you making a move towards the door. He followed, still holding your hand in his. “Harvest was a good choice. I’ve always been a fan of Neil Young. Rumors is obviously another good choice.”

“Cop out answers.” You scoffed, teasing him as you led him to the main door of the building.

“What?” He asked, laughing as you brought him outside. “You said Harvest, did you not?”

“I did.” You nodded, your smile beginning to hurt your cheeks. “So that would make you a bit of a copycat, hmm?”

“Zeppelin III, then?” You thought about it for a moment, then eventually gave a nod of your head.

“I’ll accept it.”

“Thank you, I guess?” He opened the passenger door for you as he spoke, making your blush return to your cheeks with full force.

“You’re welcome.” As you climbed in, you saw Sam walking back over to the car. Rose was pulling on her leash, stopping to inspect every growing weed and yellow dandelion as they passed by. Spring was coming with full force, and Rosie was not the only one enjoying the season change. Danny closed the door as you settled in, catching Sam in a small conversation as he made a move towards the backseat. You didn’t have enough energy to read their lips as they spoke, and you definitely didn’t care to dwell on Sam’s apologetic expression as your phone began to ring in your pocket.

You grabbed it, looking quickly at the contact and feeling your whole body food with dread. John was calling, and for once in your entire life, you could not bear the thought of going in early. Before answering, you looked out the window, catching sight of Danny’s side profile. The sight was so beautiful that you couldn’t fathom the idea of walking away from it if you did not have to. Being with him made you happier than you had been since you moved to the city, and it was a feeling you weren’t comfortable letting go of just yet.

Then, you were pulled back to reality for a moment. You looked back down at the phone in your hands, realizing that you had not known Danny for long enough to choose him over OT pay at the diner. Logically speaking, the extra four hours of work you would get paid for could go towards an extra grocery bill you usually could not afford, or more importantly, two packs of cigarettes to enjoy. Four hours of work and a hangout cut short seemed like a fair trade for the luxury of smoking as many cigarettes as your heart desired rather than smoking them halfway to make it to the next payday.

You stopped your train of thought, looking away from your phone and out the front windshield.

Were you really comparing a living human being to a pack of Marlboro Reds?

You feared that you lost your humanity, trading human connection with substance in an attempt to protect your heart. After your relentless heartbreaks from Vincent, you were stingy when it came to handing pieces of yourself to others. It was understandable to feel such a way, but absolutely not to feel such a blatant lack of regard for others. You looked back out the window, lingering over Danny’s smiling face for a moment while he conversed with Sam, wondering how you could ever feel such a way about him in particular. He was worth more than a thousand packs of cigarettes, and made you feel a million times more in an hour than a cigarette ever could.

The ringing ceased, making you look back at your phone. You had been deliberating so long that John had hung up the call. “Shit.” You muttered to yourself, unlocking your screen to call him back. Before you could, it was already ringing again with another incoming call. You did not hesitate to accept it, pressing the phone to your ear as you thought out an apology for not answering the first time. “Hey, John.”

“Hey, darlin’.” He said, stress clearly laced within his tone. Suddenly, you were plagued with guilt at just the thought of declining the extra hours. Never once had you turned him down when he asked you to help, and the more you thought of it, the more you realized that he depended on your extra hours just as much as you did. The whole situation was conflicting and cofusing, mostly because you had never been in a position where taking extra hours was a conflict of interest. “Sorry if I woke ya’.”

“No, no, you’re okay.” You assured him. “Did you need me to come in?” He let out a long chuckle, and you could hear him rubbing his chin in his hand through the speaker.

“No, actually. For once, that’s not why I’m calling.” Your stomach dropped, hoping that he was not calling for an even worse reason. You had never done anything bad enough to make him question your employment, but every time he called and seemed to be in a poor mood, you feared he might fire you. The last thing you needed was to lose your only source of income, especially when you were already poor and struggling to survive. It would be a one way ticket back to Utah, where your mother would forever hold it against you with reiterations of ‘I told you so’ and ‘I knew you wouldn’t make it’.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, what isn’t wrong when it comes to this place?” He asked, exhaling a long sigh. “Don’t worry about coming in tonight. Pipe burst in the kitchen this morning, and the plumbers won’t be able to fix it until tomorrow. Took us about an hour to get it under control, so it’s a mess in here.”

“Oh, shit.” You sympathized, breaking your concentration for a moment when you heard the car doors open and the boys get inside. “Did you need an extra hand? ‘Cause I can come in and help clean.” You offered, hoping he would say no yet too nice not to extend the offer.

“No, honey, that’s alright.” He chuckled, stunned at your eagerness to go in early. “Dylan and Vincent came in to help out. We’re trying to make the dining room into a dining room again,” he paused. “Right now, looks more like a swimming pool. You take the day, and I’ll let you know how it’s looking tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure.” You said, hesitant to accept it.

“Positive.” He affirmed. “Enjoy your day, darlin’.”

“Thanks John. If you need an extra hand, just call.”

“You know I will.” He sighed. After that a few seconds of awkward silence ensued, and just as he ended the call, you could recognize Vincent’s voice in the background, presumably yelling at Dylan for something so minor he’d forget about it as soon as the words left his lips. Your stomach sank at the sound and you glanced at Danny through the corner of your eye, feeling a flash of remorse for Vincent who had no idea what you were up to.

Even if you did not want to be with him—no, could not be with him, breaking his heart was not something you were happy about, and you knew that if he had any idea what you were up to, heartbreak would be the only thing he felt.

“Don’t tell me you have to head into work?” Danny asked, a smile on his face but disappointment was shining in his eyes.

“No, actually.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Don’t have to go in at all. Pipe burst in the kitchen, so they closed the place down ‘til a plumber could take a look at it.”

“So you’re free for the rest of the day, then?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Seems so.” You grinned. “Want to check out the park?”

“Lead the way, Utah.” He said, relaxing back into his seat. You reached to the cup holders between the two of you, grabbing one of the candies. You stuck the wrapper in your pocket and popped the little ball in your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut immediately. The sour sensation spread across your tongue, making your mouth water. The sudden shock of the bitter coating immediately seemed to restart your brain; Vincent was a far away thought, as were all of the things that came along with it. After a few seconds, you pointed your finger in the direction that would lead you to the park, and he followed without another word.

You watched him as he turned on the moderately busy street, focusing specifically on the large hand wrapped around the steering wheel and his elbow nestled comfortably on the door. His other hand, seemingly not knowing where else to go, was resting on his leg while his fingers tapped a small beat into the denim of his jeans. For a split second, you found yourself in a daydream, wondering how it would feel if he reached across the vehicle and rested his hand on your thigh instead. The feeling of his palm draped carefully over the limb, his fingers resting just barely on the inside of it. You imagined the warmth his skin would cast over your naturally cold body, and the strength behind the action, even if he aimed to remain gentle. The more you dreamed of it, the more you wanted it, even if you felt ridiculous about it.

You tried to make yourself believe he didn’t want you in such a way, but the moment you shared surrounded by records that told love stories similar to your own forced you to believe otherwise. Every now and again, you caught him glancing over at you, the sunglasses failing to conceal the sneaky looks. The smile that blossomed on his lips was breathtaking, and it grew even further when you hummed along to a song on his playlist, or when you laughed at a joke Sam spewed from the backseat. There was a twinkle of adoration on his expression when you turned around in your seat, just as willing to give Rose the love she was desperately searching for. You wanted to believe he was looking for a friend, but it was easier to accept that he thought of you the same way you dreamed about him. The only difference was that he allowed himself to feel such things in blatant consciousness, whilst you did all you could to block it out only to succumb to the feelings during deep sleep.

He was a person who was capable of love and being in love, but you were only capable of breaking and losing. He had the skills and ability to make something beautiful, and you only had enough skill to turn a beautiful thing ugly. You’d been so good at it your entire life that it was harder to believe that you could change than it was to live with it, and it killed you to know that you could not offer him all he could offer you.

“Take a left up here, and there’s a big empty lot. You can just park there.” You explained, trying to hide the strain in your voice as you pulled yourself from the wretched thoughts. Your own mind was your worst enemy, constantly pulling you down and holding you back, even when there was nothing to be upset about. Danny hummed an agreement, carefully following your instructions. Within moments, you were stagnant in the aforementioned lot and Rose was nearly breaking down the door to get outside.

The three of you tumbled out of the vehicle and back into the crisp spring air. As soon as the sun hit your face, uninterrupted by any barriers, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Danny gave you a smile, walking to join you as Sam tightened the leash in his hand. The smile on both of their faces made you want to smile, too.

So you did, blinding and dazzling as you sprung forward, leading the way for the other two. It didn’t matter if it was partially fake, because you knew that with time, it could become genuine. You slipped the small energy drink in one of your large pockets and the bag of candy in the other as you walked. Somewhere between the parking lot and the gated entrance to the park, Danny’s hand landed on your lower back. It was weary on his part, as if he was afraid you would recoil, but it was more than welcome. It made you pause your previous dread for a moment and wonder if life could genuinely be so simple, or if you were just exceptionally good at finding every possible way to over complicate things.

“Sometimes things are just as simple as apple juice, y/n, not the big complicated mess that you try and turn everything into.” Liam’s words bounced against your skull, louder each time the memory rang. He was right, and you had a terrible habit of making things so much harder than they needed to be. He had meant it in the sense of your addiction, but as you had come to realize, your addiction was the biggest part of your life, inevitable who you were down to the core. His words applied to you as a whole, rather than a specific topic at the time. Perhaps the NA meeting served a further purpose than just keeping you sober, and Liam’s (mostly) unsolicited advice stretched far beyond your usual troubles. Sometimes, and specifically this time, it was just apple juice.

You didn’t need to keep Danny at a distance, nor did you need to push him away. At the same time, you were not required to tell him your life’s story right then and there. You could simply enjoy the moment without ever having to worry about it, because for now, it was all that mattered. You were wasting your energy wondering how to explain NA meetings and your messy parental relationships, because there was no need to tell him such things right away. You could worry about those bridges when it was time to cross them, and as you located the old swing set with park benches placed neatly beside them, there was no bridge in sight.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Danny asked, snagging the opportunity of alone time while Sam was led in the opposite direction by the curious dog. You looked over at him, smiles still lingering on your faces as you sat down on the mostly dry park bench.

“Not worth a penny, I don’t think.” You replied, happy he chose to sit closer than he needed to.

“Agree to disagree?” He asked, watching as you pulled one foot up under your knee, making yourself at home on the bench. The sight was wondrous to him, making him realize that no matter the circumstance or condition, you could make it comfortable and more importantly, inviting.

“Sure.” You chuckled, reaching in your pocket and grabbing one of the double chocolate muffins you had been dreaming about all morning. “I guess… just pondering. I do that a lot.” He relaxed back into the wooden bench, laughing to himself at your choice of words. “Must be a writer thing.” You shrugged.

“And this pondering happens to be about…?”

“You,” you answered, honest enough. “And how things don’t always have to be complicated.”

“By that you mean, like, us?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ve got a really good way of making things way more difficult than they have to be. Like right now, we’re sitting on a bench, sharing a muffin?” You posed the words like a question, simultaneously extending the muffin towards him. He looked to your hand, then back at your face, then at the muffin again. There was an amused expression on his pretty face, making it incredibly hard not to stare.

“We are.” He agreed, reaching forward and breaking off a piece of the baked good.

“And that’s just that.” You shrugged. “Just two people, sharing a muffin on a park bench.”

“As opposed to?” You laughed, finally giving in and catching his eye. The sight seemed to take your breath away, but you tried not to let it deter you from the topic at hand.

“As opposed to two people who almost kissed at a record store, and the girl being so nervous about it that she’s making herself sick. As opposed to a waitress who spends all night wondering if that cute guy she met at work likes her back, because she really likes him and it would fucking suck if he didn’t.” You explained, finding the light in his eyes shine a bit brighter as he listened. “But it’s never that serious. We’re just two people, sharing a muffin, watching their friend get dragged around a park by his dog.” At that, he let out a real laugh. It echoed through the empty air, rivaling the beauty of the birds chirping and the wind singing hymns. In an instant, the sound of his joy became more important than two people sharing a muffin, and much more important than an almost-kiss in a record store. It was everything, and you wished to hear it all of the time. If it were possible, you would shrink to microscopic size, riding through the air within the sound waves of the most entrancing sound on earth for eternity.

“We are,” he agreed, nodding at your sentiments. It was a statement the two of you seemed to be bouncing back and fourth between each other, but it didn’t matter that it was futile and lacking substance, because he was the person saying it. You would hang on every word and faint whisper until your insanity took hold. He looked down at you, his long lashes casting a shadow over his sharp cheeks. You met his gaze, craning your head upwards to meditate the height difference. “But I think we’re also two people who almost kissed in a record store, and a beautiful waitress who’s insane for thinking that guy in the booth was cute.”

“We are.” You agreed, strikingly similar to how he did moments before. You wanted to disagree with his last point, yet you didn’t have the strength. His stare was too powerful, taking over every aspect of your life and holding you hostage in the moment.

“I don’t think she needs to worry herself sick, though. She also does not need to wonder if he likes her, too.” You let out a small hum at his words, barely noticeable, but a response nonetheless. In an instant, you became the two people at the record store once more, but this time you were atop a park bench, muffin in hand.

“I guess we’re still those people at the record store.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. The closeness of his face to yours was much less scary than the last time, and you had more confidence when you thought about leaning forward and closing the gap between you.

“We’re also two people on a park bench, sharing a muffin.” He said, making sure you knew he wasn’t trying to prove you wrong. It was almost strange, how he was so cautious with his words so he did not give you the wrong impression. He cared, and he cared more than anyone ever had. Your words were important to him, as well as your heart. He didn’t want to cause any hurt, but rather add to your current state of content. You felt his arm around you, resting on the back of the wooden plank, yet closing in around you further the longer you sat there. It felt good. It felt right.

It was funny how twenty three years of consistently feeling wrong suddenly disappeared, and all it took was a single smile from a curly headed boy tucked neatly into a corner booth at the Fox.

You didn’t believe in fate, but you were certain this was the closest you could get to it without submitting to the feeble idea.

“We’re a million different versions of ourselves all at once. I think it’s pretty cool.” As much as it was true, you wished you could learn when it was time to stop talking, because you knew that sharing philosophy anecdotes was not the best way to pass your time. Not with his heavy-lidded eyes staring into your soul, and especially not with his gentle touch lingering barely over your shoulder. Definitely not when his lips were so close to yours, tempting you further the longer he remained in place.

“Do you think every version of us eventually ends up on a park bench, sharing a muffin?” He asked, clearly unbothered by your nervous rambling as he continued on with the same conversation. In his mind, kissing you came second to talking, as he could spend hours listening to ramblings coming from the deepest depths of your mind. He wanted to kiss you, but not nearly as much as he wanted to hear what you had to say.

“Fuck no,” you giggled, your mouth upturning into a smile. He was so close to you that the motion nearly made your lips brush his, but it did not make him move away. He noticed the corners of your eyes crinkle as you did so, drawing his attention to the freckles dusted like constellations on your tired skin. The hue of sleep deprivation painted your under eyes, and the threat of a blush pulled the picture together in perfect harmony. “I’m sure at least three versions of me suck.”

“Me, too.” He agreed, smiling as he watched you notice the same details on his face. “But even the worst versions of me think that you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.”

“Does every version of you have the same cheesy pickup lines?”

“They wish.” He scoffed lightly. The both of you fell into a laugh, making the act of kissing that much more simple.

His arm resting on the back of the bench slid forward, wrapping around you with little force but ample amounts of energy. Your entire body felt abuzz with emotion as his hand cupped around your upper arm, pulling you closer into him. With a laugh still stuck between your teeth, he brought his other hand to your cheek, similar to how he was holding you at the record store, yet much more comfortable. In an instant, you understood that all of your earlier fears were pointless, because the feeling of his lips meeting yours was much more extraordinary than anything you’d ever felt before.

The tips of his fingers laced in the strands of hair covering your ear, the sweet touch knotting around the locks and ensuring the memory would remain indefinitely. On his lips, the faint taste of chocolate matched your own. His cologne, which was all the more intense with every encounter, seemed to close in around your throat and flood every one of your senses. The warmth of his palm felt like home, and home was something you had never been familiar with before. Your heart was thudding against your chest, trying it’s best to escape and showcase exactly how it bled just for him. In a split second, he became more to you than anything else had ever been, and the longer his mouth moved against yours, the more at peace you felt with it.

You were happy to be important to him, and you were happy that he could be important to you, especially when not much else in your life held a candle to the importance of him. Your many thoughts, which had never really been anything worthwhile, were once again obsolete. The conclusions you drew and hoops you’d jumped through to justify your liking and relationship with him meant nothing, because it was as simple as two people, who were once sharing a muffin on a park bench, kissing on a park bench. It was never as complex as you tried to frame it, and you were fine knowing that you were two people who would happily intertwine your lives for a while. For how long, you did not know, and you did not care. All you cared about was the sweetness of kissing him, and how you never wanted it to end. After that, all you would worry about is when you could do it again.

Some things are as simple as apple juice, and falling for Danny, as it seemed, was even simpler than that. If you had to guess, you would think it was the easiest thing you had ever done.

When he pulled away, you thought you would grieve the loss, yet somehow your chest seemed so much lighter than usual. A cloud of content surrounded you, and it had never been easier to fill your lungs with air. Kissing Danny seemed to cure you of all of the problems constantly looming over your head, and even if it was only temporary, you were thankful he could alleviate it at all.

“I can kiss you again, if that version of you is still worried I don’t feel the same way.” He offered, his face still so close to your own. Despite the distance, you could still feel the lingering ghost of blissfulness that came from such close contact with him.

“Just to be sure.” You said, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“Right.” He agreed, moving forward and placing another delicate kiss on your lips. It was soft, short-lived, but still as beautiful as the last.

You quickly learned that the only thing better than kissing him for the first time was getting the chance to do it again.

“Is she convinced yet? ‘Cause I can keep going, if she wants me to.” You let out a laugh, leaning forward and repeating the action once more before drawing back entirely.

“I think so,” you assured him. He let his hand linger on your cheek for a moment longer, his thumb drifting gently across the soft skin before he pulled away, too. You saw his eyes flicker past you, a smile still lingering on his face. You turned your head, noticing Sam meandering near the swing set, Rose’s leash tightly in hand. “And I bet that version of Sam is really happy he didn’t screw up your chances this time.”

“You’d be right.” He nodded, noticing that the two were approaching. You picked away at the muffin, suddenly remembering the carbonated beverage in your pocket as you tried anything to forget the feeling of his skin on yours.

It was a terrible thing to be an addict, because the danger extended far beyond the simple claws of substance. You knew that a feeling as good as the one he could give you was more dangerous than anything you’d ever tried.

“You think I could let her off her leash?” Sam asked, approaching the two of you. He didn’t dwell on what he witnessed, but you could see a gleam of emotion in his eye, happy that the two of you had finally seemed to make the move (without another rude interruption from him).

“For sure.” You nodded, swallowing down a mouthful of the artificially flavored drink. You winced slightly at the carbonation, clearing your throat before speaking again. “Nobody ever comes through here, and the road isn’t really busy. If she’s got good recall, I wouldn’t worry.”

“Good,” he sighed, crouching down to unbuckle her harness. “She just wants to run. I feel bad keeping her on the leash.” When she was free, she trotted around the bench a few times, sniffing at the budding dandelions and dead grass. When she looked back up at you, she had a speckle of mud on her nose, causing you to giggle at her. Sam reached in the bag he had slung over his shoulder, quickly finding a tennis ball inside. He flashed the brightly coloured ball in front of her, immediately catching her attention. She watched his hand, waiting for him to throw it for her.

He tossed it, not too far but enough for her to run after it. Within seconds, she was off to retrieve it, and Sam was pulling a pack of cigarettes from the same bag. As he lit the end of it, Rose was already on her way back with the ball. Instead of dropping it at Sam’s feet, she turned to the two of you, watching Danny carefully. He chuckled, reaching his hand out for the ball. She dropped it in his open palm, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth as her tail wagged with a fervor.

“You mind if I play with her for a while?” Danny asked, looking between you and the tennis ball in his hand.

“Not at all.” You grinned. He smiled at you, giving your shoulder a slight squeeze before he stood. “Gives me some time to get to know Sam.”

“Of course.” He agreed, nodding his head. “Not too well, though.”

“No need to worry, Michigan.” You promised, your tone soft as you watched him stand. You knew he was only joking, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart tug at his words, wondering why that thought ever crossed his mind in the first place. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Wordlessly, he stood. A stupid smile seemed permanent on his lips as he stumbled forward, drawing his arm back as he walked. The tennis ball soared through the air, and Rose took off in a run, chasing after it. Danny spared one last look over his shoulder, admiring your face before he jogged in the direction he’d thrown the ball. You sat in silence long after he was out of earshot, not sure how to get him off your mind so you could think of something else. Thankfully, Sam took a seat on the bench beside you, further away than Danny once sat. His movement seemed to break you from your trance, and once he knew he had your attention, he began to speak.

“I’m glad I finally got to meet you,” he said, pausing for a moment. “Utah.” He smirked, looking over at you as cigarette smoke billowed around him. The nickname was different coming from Sam’s mouth, definitely not as endearing as when Danny said it, but certainly not unwelcome. It was nice feeling like you were a part of something bigger, rather than your previous impression of only being a girl working at a shitty diner. You didn’t know Sam well enough to believe he thought of you as a friend, but you didn’t mind the idea of being a friend. As the nickname rolled off his tongue, you understood that despite knowing the boy for no longer than a cigarette, you existed as more than a stranger within the frames of his mind. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Does he?” You asked, intrigued at the statement. You looked over, pulling a cigarette from your own pack as you waited for a response. Sam looked too, catching your eye as he let out a soft chuckle.

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, glancing back over at Danny for a moment. “Came home from the diner that day with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face.” Your cheeks heated, but not too extensively. You felt less embarrassed about the prospect knowing that Sam had seen the same lovestruck look in Danny’s eyes.

“I, uh… I was there that first night, when the two of you came in together.” You confessed, striking your lighter and placing it to the tip of your cigarette. You inhaled deeply, pursing your lips and puffing your cheeks as you exhaled the brunt of the smoke. As you gathered your thoughts, you let the rest filter out of your nose, the harsh chemicals stinging your sinuses. “I was too scared to introduce myself, so I’m real glad he decided to come back.” Sam nodded slowly, looking down at his hands as he took in your words.

“He tells me you’re an author?” He raised an eyebrow, flicking the growing ash to the ground as he spoke. “And a damn good one, at that.”

“I am.” You confirmed, feeling your heart flutter at the thought of him speaking so highly of you. “Maybe not as good as he says, but a writer for sure.” You hummed, swallowing down another mouthful of the energy drink. “I moved here from Utah, thought maybe a new city would help me get where I want to be.”

“Did it work?” You closed your eyes at the question, unsure of how to respond. In some ways, it did. In others, not so much. You felt like you had a head start, that you were exactly where you needed to be, and then you threw it away. The first few months, before Vincent managed to take over every aspect of your life, you were better off than ever before. Once he wiggled his way into your heart, you had been to distracted to care about anything other than the sound of your own breaking heart.

“Yes, but I think it might be wearing off.” You confessed. It was the first time you said it aloud despite thinking it a million times.

“So you’re a floater?” You liked Sam; he didn’t seem fond of small talk and fillers. He got straight to the point, and you could appreciate that. As a poet who felt like the best way to know a person was through the soul, the bourgeoning intensity of his questions felt real, rather than invasive.

“Always have been.” You admitted, picking at a hangnail that was bothering you. “What’s the point of free will if you always stay in the same place?”

“You feel that way about people, too?” He turned towards you now, his stare burning and his expression firm, but not menacing. As he sat before you, his words still ringing in your ears, you understood that he did not ask that question on behalf of himself.

“No.” You shook your head, smiling softly despite his heavy statements. “Loyal as a dog, even if it hurts me more than it helps me.” He didn’t break his eye contact, appearing to be very concerned about your answer. He didn’t want to not believe you, but he wanted to be certain you were telling the truth. You couldn’t blame him, so you didn’t.

“I have to look out for him.” He explained, his eyes softening as he realized your transparency was honest, rather than faked. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Didn’t take it as such.” You assured him. “He’s your best friend, and I’m just a girl who he met at a diner.”

“You’re more than that, Utah.” He chuckled. “But he’s my brother.”

“I get it.” You promised.

“He likes you, and I guess I’m just… I hope you like him the same way.” He continued, losing his rigidity the more he explained himself. “He loves with his whole heart, and it’s gotten him hurt before.”

“You’re floaters, too.” You reminded him, not as a defense, but as insight. “He told me you travel a lot, but you guys seem pretty loyal as well. Especially to each other.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He nodded, smiling at his own stupidity. “Maybe it’s too early to be having the ‘if you hurt him, I hurt you’ talk.” He chuckled.

“Maybe, but better too early than too late.” You took another drag from your cigarette, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “I can respect someone who cares about his friends so much.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, rubbing his face in his hand for a moment. “I like you too, if that counts for something.” He added, wanting to ensure that you knew that. You smiled at the words, liking the feeling of being liked. “Killer music taste.”

“Thank you. Was the only good thing my family ever gave me.” You joked, prying a laugh from him.

“I hope you guys stick it out,” he confessed. “I’ve known you for a few hours, and I already like you better than the last one.”

“Real piece of work?” You asked, heavily interested but hesitant to tread too deeply. He scoffed, giving an exaggerated nod of his head as he closed his eyes.

“You have no idea.” At the sound of his response, you figured it was best not to ask and rather learn with time.

“I’m happy being liked, and I’m okay with being hated if I hurt him. He seems like a great guy. I’ve never really met anyone like him.” You confessed, looking out across the park. Your eyes landed on him, grinning wildly as he threw the ball yet again for the hyper dog. As she ran to fetch it, you caught him looking back over his shoulder at the two of you, making your stomach twist in a knot. “He’s sweet, and he’s… real. Hard to find someone genuine, and hard to find someone who cares about more than just themselves.”

“He is great,” he agreed. “You’ve never met anyone like him cause there isn’t anyone else like him. He’s one of a kind. Obviously, I’ve never been in love with the guy, but I can see the appeal.” At that, you let out an echoing laugh. The sound wrapped around the trees, as warm as the sun and as big as the sky. It felt good to laugh like that, and you hadn’t in a very long time.

“You could’ve fooled me.” You teased, still feeling the ghost of the laugh tingling on your lips. “Are you a musician too?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Sam asked, gazing curiously over at you.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“We’re in a band.” He said, shocked that the fact was unbeknownst to you.

“Oh,” you shook your head, trying to recall all of the conversations to see if you missed anything. “No, he told me he played a lot of instruments, but never really said he did anything with it. I thought it was just for fun.”

“No, we’ve released some stuff. We’re planning on taking it further, actually. The reason we came here… we were headed to Nashville, figured maybe it was the right move. Before we took such a big step, we decided to take some time, find some inspiration.”

“Oh, wow.” You hummed, impressed but not necessarily surprised. You figured they had to be artists of some kind, especially for how well you got along with Danny. “He told me about the inspiration part, but not much else.”

“Yeah, my brothers Josh and Jake, went to Nashville early. They wanted to get used to the city, explore a bit. Danny and I figured we’d travel a bit, get a taste of the world so we could write about it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get you.” You nodded, realized you had in essence done the same. “That’s really cool.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling as you spoke. “We only really planned to stay here for a few weeks, but I think we might stay for a little while longer.” You couldn’t help but feel your stomach sink at the sound of his words, dread seeping in faster with ever second that passed.

“A few weeks?” You asked, trying to stay calm.

In all of your earlier internal brooding, you never expected the timeline to be that short.

He looked to you, finding your anxious expression saddening to see. He felt guilty for framing the words so poorly, realizing that he made you worry for no real reason at all. “Don’t worry, Utah.” He assured you, giving you a soft smile. “We were only planning to stay here for a few weeks, but things never seem to go to plan. A waitress at a diner or something like that… seemed to make him want to extend the stay.” His voice was calm, soft and reassuring. You felt better almost instantly, letting out a little sigh of relief. “We managed to book the Airbnb for the rest of the summer. We were going to go to a few different places, but we realized New York has lots to offer.”

“It does.” The smile reappeared on your lips as you squeaked the words out. Even though he would be leaving eventually, you were grateful that a few weeks turned into months. You made a pact with yourself to cherish every minute with Danny, and to live in the moment. It was something you’d never done before, but for him, you wanted to try. There was no room for fear in the short time he would be in New York, as it would do nothing but take away from all the good that you could do.

The sound of paws on wet ground made you turn away from Sam, seeing Rosie barreling towards you two with the ball in her mouth. Danny was not far behind her, although he wasn’t moving nearly as fast. He had a glowing smile and eyes that only wanted to focus on you as he approached. Sam didn’t say anything else, but the look in his eye told you all you needed to know. He liked you, and would continue to like you as long as you didn’t hurt Danny. Lucky for him, you had zero intentions on doing such a thing. You only ever knew how to break things, but this was something you could not bear the thought of damaging. He was someone that you couldn’t bear to break.

“You have fun?” You asked him, your tone changing slightly as he continued to watch you. You weren’t sure if you were being less of yourself around him because of how different you were feeling, or if he was the only person in the world that could make you aware of such parts of you.

“You have no idea.” He joked, resuming his earlier position on the bench. Sam reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle of water and a cup for Rose to drink out of. “He tell you all of my secrets?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly,” you chuckled. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in a band?” You questioned, finishing off the last of your beverage and sticking the cigarette butt in the now empty can.

“Oh,” he uttered, seemingly a bit flustered at the question. “Guess I never thought it was that important.” He shrugged.

“I think it’s very important.” You said, brushing off his nonchalance. “If it means something to you… it means something to me.” Your voice was quiet, and you couldn’t believe you’d let such a sentiment slip into the conversation. A small smile turned up on the corners of his lips, your words touching him and making his heart speed.

“If that’s the case, I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.” He chuckled.

“I’ll forgive you this time, as long as I get to hear you play sometime.” You said, deciding not to pressure him too much.

“I suppose I could make that happen.” His smile continued lingering on his cheeks as he looked over your face once more. He wanted to sear the sight in his memory just so he never had to forget the moment.

You realized quickly that Danny loved the version of you two on a park bench, sharing a muffin just as intensely as you did. He did not say the words, but you could see it in his eyes, and the appreciation for the moment was radiating from him.

He made it incredibly hard not to fall for him.

The afternoon passed without any warning, the sun sinking further in the sky as conversation steadily filled the air. Laughs were plentiful, and the sunlight shining down on the three of you made it all the more remarkable. None of you wanted to part ways, but when the temperature started to nip your skin with cold and the wind tousled your hair, you knew that the fun filled day was drawing to a close. You tried to ignore the sadness plaguing you as Sam packed up Roses’ bag, but it hit you full force as he clipped her leash back to her harness. As he did so, you could feel Danny’s hand still lingering on your thigh, where it had found home not long after his return to the bench. It felt just as good as you imagined it would, and if possible, even better as the time went on.

You gathered the garbage you had accumulated, starting with the muffin wrappers and the empty can. You shoved it all in your pocket, making a mental note to throw it away when you stumbled across the nearest trash can. When you all stood, unspoken that it was time to leave, your limbs felt like lead. Your feet wanted to remain cemented to the ground, hoping that maybe it would draw the moment out longer. You weren’t ready to be alone, and you weren’t ready to part ways with Danny. The day had been so wonderful, fulfilling and beautiful in ways you never expected or imagined. You had a hard time coming to terms with it being over in an instant.

“You ready to go?” Danny asked, his voice quiet as he noticed your refrain.

“O-oh,” you mustered out, nodding your head. “Yeah. All good.” You cleared your throat, knowing in your soul how unconvincing it truly was. He watched you for a moment, and when you caught his eye, to your disbelief, you saw the same emotion in his own gaze.

“How about this,” he started, his face softening ever so slightly, despite already being as inviting as possible. “Why don’t you come with me while I drop Sam off, and then I’ll take you back home.” It was a last ditch attempt to spend an extra ten minutes together, and to him, ten minutes was worth the world.

“I don’t want to waste your time.” You said, feeling guilty at the idea.

“You’re never a waste of my time.” He said firmly, assuring you that he was telling the truth. After a moment of silence, you nodded your head.

“Yeah, okay.” You agreed. “I’d like that… a lot, actually.”

“Me too.” He said, his hand returning to your back as he guided you away from the bench. You were certain if he continued to touch you in such a way, you’d be in love before you ever got back to the car.

The walk away from the bench left you closer together than you were when you walked towards it. For once, you were so thankful for park benches and the stale NA meeting muffins, because you felt like it had given you the opportunity of a lifetime. It was a combination of things you’d experienced a million times before, yet it had never been so memorable to you. You felt as though you could live a million lifetimes and never forget how it felt to sit together and share the stupid double chocolate muffin.

Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, you were not sure.

Sam and Rose were at the car first, waiting patiently for the two of you. You stopped at the garbage can at the edge of the lot, tossing all of the trash away. Danny waited patiently for you, unwilling to go any further and leave you behind. When you joined him, he guided you towards the passenger door, opening it for you yet again. You climbed in, still somber at the idea of having to part ways soon enough, but feeling better at the knowledge it wouldn’t be immediately. Once everyone was inside, Danny quickly filled Sam in on the plan, which he agreed to without complaint. Not long after that, Danny backed out of the parking spot and began the journey back to the Airbnb.

He handed you his phone, telling you the passcode and allowing you to choose the music. You looked over at him for a second before turning back to the phone on your lap, stunned at the thought of him caring so little about it. Nobody had ever granted you such access to their personal business.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing you staring at the unlocked phone, unmoving. You looked back over at him, blinking a time or two before responding hesitantly.

“Did you… did you want to open Spotify for me?” You asked, grabbing it and offering it back. He looked away from the road for a second, furrowing his eyebrows as he chuckled at your question.

“No…?” He shook his head. “I gave it to you for a reason, Utah. I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Right.” You nodded, still trying to digest the fact.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, finding your concern a little misplaced.

“Vincent would never have let me—“ you cut yourself off, your lips forming into a tight lipped smile. “You have nothing to hide.” You repeated the sentence quietly to yourself, relating the two thoughts together. “Right.” You nodded again, feeling your chest ache just enough for you to notice. Danny stayed silent for a moment, feeling guilty for bringing up a sore spot he did not know existed.

Vincent would grab his phone in haste and hide it from you, not because he just felt like doing so, but because there were things he did not want you to know. Your own naïveté led you to believe it was just a quirk, but Danny’s lax attitude when it came to sharing his phone with you opened your mind to months worth of red flags you should have been privy to. Actually, spending the entire day with Danny seemed to open the door to a whole new way of thinking.

For a man you did not actually date, Vincent seemed to fuck you up beyond what any actual boyfriend had done in the past.

You felt like an idiot for being so blind to Vincent’s behavior, but you felt that way even more so for bringing his name up in the front seat of Danny’s car. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking of him at all, no matter if it were at home or with company, because you and Vincent would never be together.

You weren’t sure why the thought tugged on your heartstrings, but it did nonetheless.

Amidst your thoughts, you picked a song so the tension in the air would lessen. When things seemed to go back to normal, you returned to the deepest parts of your brain to mull over the topic one more time.

You wanted to hate Vincent, and some part of you did, but you felt like it was not for the right reasons. You didn’t hate him as a whole, but rather only in the ways that made it impossible for you to let him in. You hated his obstinate attitude and his lack of empathy for anyone or anything. You hated his harsh words and anger-first mentality. More than anything, you hated the addiction that turned him into a monster. You believed (or wanted to, at least) that Vincent was good underneath the pile of shit life had thrown at him, and you aimed to believe it with your whole heart. You tried to believe it so strongly because despite the pain he caused, he also did a world of good for you. He hurt you more than most people, and nearly on a daily basis, but he was the only person you shared so much of your life with. He had moments of sweetness, warmth and kindness, but it was rare. Even so, the fact that it was so few and far between to experience such things at his hands, it made it all the better.

Because he was rarely good to you, the moments of good were better than all the bad combined. The bad things beat you down so much that when an hint of praise was sent your way, it was euphoric.

Had you cared to look a little deeper, you would have recognized it was abuse you suffered at his hand, even if it was not physical. You were defending someone who was doing nothing but trying to harm you. Even if it was not lethal, he was doing so in attempt to make you stay with him. He knew your intentions were too good to ever pick up on it.

Well, until that moment, at least. Until a certain someone had shown you it was not normal to be treated such a way.

You looked over at Danny for a moment, guilt plaguing you as you wondered if the reason you had clung to him so quickly was for the right reasons. Did you want him because he encased every trait that Vincent did not have? Did you want him because he did not use anger and cruel words to get you to do as he pleased? Was liking him just an escape from the life you were living before you met him, or was it more?

As you watched his face, listening the soft lull of the Eagles playing in the background, you knew none of those things were true.

Well, none were true in the sense you had previously perceived it as.

Danny was not Vincent, and he never would be. He didn’t have any of the toxic traits, and you were certain he would never speak to you even close to the way Vincent had grown comfortable with. You did not search for Danny in hopes of distracting yourself from Vincent. He walked into your life on a whim, finding you at the right time and for the right reason; chance. He was attractive, funny, and incredibly attentive. You did not kiss him on the park bench to bury your feelings for another man, and you did not kiss him for any other reason than want itself.

Danny was not Vincent, and that was a good thing. You knew your liking for him had nothing to do with anything other than simple things. Danny proved in an instant what Vincent could not in a year, and you needed to stop feeling guilty on behalf of someone who couldn’t care less about you. Even If he did, he had a lousy way of showing it.

Danny showed you the simple fact that you had been trying to avoid for eighteen months; you needed to get Vincent out of your head, or he would be your downfall. Even then, after such a beautiful day shared with a beautiful boy, it came right back to him as soon as the sun went down.

“I’ll see you later, Sam.” Danny said, catching your attention. You looked around, realizing you were parked in a driveway. You felt guilty knowing you had wasted the entire drive being lost in thought over a lost cause.

It was not very ‘live in the moment’ of you, nor was it very ‘apple juice’ of you.

Old habits die hard, it seems.

“See you, Sam. It was really nice meeting you.” You said, turning back to give him a smile. You tried to feign some sort of normalcy as you bid your goodbye, wishing you hadn’t met him on such an off day. You worried you had given him a poor impression, but as he smiled back and reached over the seat to place a hand on your shoulder, your fears seemed to wash away.

“Likewise.” He agreed, giving your shoulder a slight squeeze. “Happy I can finally put a face to the name, Utah. See you soon?”

“For sure.” You agreed, reaching back to pet Rose one last time.

“I’ll see you when you get home, Daniel.” Sam said, his eyes lingering over Danny’s face as if to tell him something non-verbally. You did not know either of them well enough to decode it, so you didn’t attempt to. Danny smiled, nodding once as Sam opened the car door. He helped Rose out, and within minutes, he was standing at the front door, typing in the code to unlock it.

There was a moment of silence, but as you learned, silence was never abundant between the two of you.

“What’s on your mind, Utah?” Danny asked, unable to hold his curiosity. “And don’t say nothing, because I know it’s not true.”

“It’s nothing important, really.”

“I thought we were past that?” He pressed, a small frown decorating his face. As you took in the sight of it, you realized that it was something you never wanted to see again. “Is it about Vincent?” You froze at his name coming from Danny’s mouth, the sound unfamiliar and completely misplaced.

“I… we are past that,” you agreed, nervous that he was getting the wrong impression. You wanted to tell him the truth. You wanted to tell him everything, but the time was not right. It was too early, and you feared that it would only send him running.

You could survive plenty, but Danny walking away suddenly seemed like the one thing that would put your foot in the grave.

“You told me there was nothing going on between you two.” He stated, his tone less than accusatory. He wanted to understand, and he would never be able to if you did not tell him. Words were failing you, and you had no idea how to respond without telling him the entire tragic tale. “I’m not upset, y/n. I just need you to be honest with me, ‘cause I really like you, and I’d hate for things to be… different than what I thought they were.” He phrased his words carefully, not wanting to attack, but rather meet on middle ground.

“There’s not.” You shook your head, denying the claim immediately. You realized how suspicious the quick response was and you let out a groan, collapsing back into the seat. You rubbed your face in your hands, wishing things could just be easy. With Danny, you wanted it all to be as easy as it was when you fell for him. “It’s not… it’s so complicated.”

“It wasn’t that complicated last night… what changed?” A sparkle of hurt in his eye shattered your heart and filled your stomach with lead.

“You drive, and I’ll talk, okay?” You offered, giving him a hopeful look so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. He nodded, thinking it was a fantastic idea. “It’s not complicated between Vincent and I. We’re both extremely complicated people that happen to be in each other's lives. I don’t want you to think that I was lying.” As you began, he backed out of the driveway slowly, checking the street for oncoming traffic. “I can’t tell you everything right now, even if I want to. Can you… can you promise me that it’s okay, and when I’m done talking, that’s that. When I finish telling you, I can’t keep going.”

“Okay,” he agreed, hesitant to go along with the idea. “You’re not a serial killer, or like a mob boss, right?” At that, you let out a laugh, the heaviness in the air becoming easier to handle with one small humor filled comment.

“No, Michigan. Not a serial killer, not a mob boss. Just a regular person who works at a diner, who happens to have baggage that is heavier than some people can carry.” You breathed.

“We’re all a little fucked up, though.” He offered support as he took his time pulling onto the highway. A sad smile crossed your lips, knowing from that comment alone, he would never be able to understand.

“Right.” You agreed, forcing the word through your teeth. “I was telling you the truth last night. When I first moved here, I was alone, and worse than that, lonely. I got a job at the Fox, and I met Vincent there. He was funny, and he was nice to me, and that’s something I’m not particularly used to. We got along, and even had some things in common. We got to talking, more than anyone else at the time, and it snowballed into something bigger. We were something, like I said last night, but not anymore. It didn’t take long for him to show his true colours.”

“What happened?”

“What didn’t?” You chuckled. “Katie, the girl that served you the first night you came to the diner has a thing for Vincent. When she realized what the two of us were up to, she didn’t take it well, and she told me a whole lot about Vincent that he was trying to keep hidden. That he had anger problems, and lots of trouble with the law. She told me he loved the chase, but never seemed to want to keep anything after he got it.” You paused, knowing the next fact was the one that would make or break the situation, proving if Danny meant his promise of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’. “She told me he was an addict, and he was an avid attendee of Narcotics Anonymous mandated by his probation and enforced by his parole officer.” You muttered. Danny didn’t speak, but nodded as he listened.

“I moved to New York to start over, not get caught up in someone else’s shit.” You explained, giving him half-truths to avoid the most pressing issues. “But I liked him, so I talked to him about it. He admitted to all of it, and it sucked, ‘cause after all the weeks of talking and getting to know each other, I realized he was lying to me about nearly everything.” You muttered, feeling your chest ache at the idea. “If he had been truthful, we wouldn’t be here, but I was already in too deep. Cared about him, or whatever.” You brushed it off as if it were no big deal, but it was, and such a big one that it bothered you still. “I told him it was best we stay friends, and he agreed at the time, but it didn’t last long. He backed off for a little while, then he tried again.”

“I’m not a strong-willed person, and I gave in a couple times, but it never went any further. I cut it off the next day… or a few days later, until the next time he tried, at least. We got into this habit of acting like a couple, but never actually being one or doing anything a couple would do. Was just the way we treated each other, like we cared so much but we had no idea what to do about it. After so many months of the same routine, we got to know each other pretty well, which is why it’s so hard to not care, now. We haven’t… not in a long time, but he knows me better than most people. He knows I care, and he knows exactly what to say to keep me on the hook. It’s complicated to explain, because I can’t be with him, and I don’t even really want to be with him, but there’s some part of me that’s still… clinging to him, for some fucking reason.”

“Okay,” Danny said, showing he was still listening.

“I told him that I would never be with him unless he got clean, and after a year and a half… I know it’ll never happen. He tells me he will, and then he acts like he never said it at all, then spins it on me as if it’s my fault. We talk at the diner like we’re best friends, and it’s fun and lighthearted and enjoyable, until I say something he doesn’t like and he snaps. He’s good most of the time, but when it’s bad, it’s terrible. He’s so mean and unpredictable when he wants to be, and I never know if he’s telling me the truth, or if he’s just saying it so I’ll do what he wants.” You paused, taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts. “He knows we’re not together, and he knows we won’t be together, but he acts like I’m his. It’s not in a romantic way, and definitely in no way nice. He treats me like property sometimes, and I don’t get a say in it. Like last night… I’m sick of his shit, and I have no intention of being with him, so I started talking to you, cause I’m single and I’m allowed to do it.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, looking over at you with a flicker of concern in his eyes. “You are.” Under the surface, with every word that left your mouth, a flame grew bigger in his chest. He quickly lost his liking for the man he met the night before, even if the emotion was not large to begin with. He was sickened at someone treating you such a way, and more importantly, that you felt like it was what you deserved.

“When you left, he came out to talk to me. He was still pissed off, and when he’s like that, he just says whatever he—“ you cut yourself off, getting more worked up about it the longer you thought about it. You knew it was not the wisest idea to tell Danny the shitty things Vincent had to say about him, but it slipped out without second thought.

“What did he say?” Danny asked, staying calm even if he felt like begging you to continue.

“He was asking me about you, like he had any right to do that. He was acting like I was cheating on him, like I just gave up on him and moved on to someone else, like I’m not the one who’s taken care of him and cleaned up every mistake he’s made for the last eighteen months. I’m not like that, and I have never been. He knows that.” You spoke through clenched teeth, furious as you recalled his accusations and the tone of voice in which he said it. “He told me that I could never be with someone like you, and that you’d leave because I’m too much, that I’d run back to him, ‘cause he thinks he’s right for me. Like I don’t deserve more than that, or more than lies and someone who can’t fucking commit. Like I don’t deserve someone who cares.” Your chest was aching and your head felt like it was going to explode. The simple thought made tears fill your eyes and your stomach sick.

The real reason for your impromptu NA meeting finally surfaced, and it had nothing to do with Danny and his sunshiney personality. Like always, it came back to Vincent and his venomous nature, always doing what he could to kick you down and make you want to stay with him. Vincent did as he intended; he beat you down enough to make you think that Danny would never be with you, and it took all day for you to see the truth to the situation. This time was different, because his insults finally pushed you further away rather than forcing you back to him.

Silence became the two of you for a moment, emotion thick in the air as one word rang through both of your minds.

Abuse.

Of course, you couldn’t see it that way, because you were stuck in it. The hateful words felt deserved, and you felt wrong for liking Danny so much, even if you did not need to. You didn’t want to be with Vincent, and you weren’t in love with him, but his love for destroying your ego caused you to continue running back to him. You weren’t sorrowful on behalf of hurting him, but because you felt like a monster for finally taking a step back.

“You deserve someone who cares.” Danny whispered. The soft tone broke you free from the mental turmoil for a moment. “I care.”

“I know.” Your voice was just as quiet as his. “It feels nice.”

“It… it can keep feeling nice, Utah.” He said, his eyes steady on the road in front of him. “I would like to keep caring. I’d like it a lot, actually.”

“I would like it, too.” You admitted, looking down at your hands in your lap. “But it’s complicated, and I get it if you don’t want to. I get it if it’s too much.”

“What? No, y/n.” He shook his head, shocked that you got that impression from his words. “I don’t think it’s nearly as complicated as you made it seem.” You looked over at him, a flicker of hope in your eye. It had been a long time since you felt an emotion like such. “Sounds like he’s an asshole, and you’re trying to get away from it.”

Your first instinct was to defend Vincent, much like you had every other time someone had said something harsh about him. Instead of jumping right away, like a little guard dog for a man who would never do the same for you, you digested the words Danny had to say, and you agreed.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded “but it’s a whole lot more than that.”

“Not really.” He looked over, catching sight of your confusion. “Are you in love with him?” You thought about it for a moment, eventually shaking your head.

“I love him, but I’m not in love with him.”

“Right.” He said. “If he changed tomorrow, if he did everything you asked of him and he stuck with it, would you be with him? Even after all the shit he’s already done?” The idea had never crossed your mind before; you were stuck in the vicious cycle of hoping he’d change, yet never considered the fact that deep down, he would still be the same person. Even if he was clean, it could not erase the pain he’d already caused, and it would not take back the mean words already spewed in moments of anger. It would not change his lack of commitment, nor his lack of respect for you as a person.

If Vincent got clean tomorrow, even if the addictions were the cause of his vile behavior, there was not enough time in the world to atone for the mistakes he had already made.

“No.”

One single word seemed to be a pivotal moment in your life. It was something you hadn’t mustered the courage to admit, even if deep down you knew it to be true. You and Vincent would never work, no matter which version, or in any lifetime. You spent eighteen months wishing to see in him what you saw from Danny in a day.

All it took was the right person to show you how wrong the last one was.

“Then I don’t think it’s that complicated, Utah.”

As if some stroke of fate, as he said it, you neared the Fox on the highway. You looked out as you passed by, noticing first the empty lot, then Vincent’s old Pontiac parked in front of the entrance with the door open. Dylan and him stood side by side, sharing a cigarette. Even in the brief passing, you looked at him as you drove by and for the first time in your life, you felt nothing.

Well, nothing in comparison to what you felt for the boy sitting next to you, at least.

“I guess it’s not, Michigan.” You agreed, finding it easy to pull your eyes away from the diner if it meant you could look at him.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry if I made you second guess anything. I just… I was worried, that's all.”

“You don’t have anything to be worried about.” He assured you. “I’m happy I know, because I understand it now.” Your heart warmed at his words, never experiencing such sweetness from another person. “Plus, if it helps you feel better, I’d listen to you all day.”

“You’re pretty good, you know that?” He let out a small laugh, looking over with confusion on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“At getting people to fall for you. You’re good at it.” He let his eyes linger over you for a moment, unsure if he was understanding what you meant. When you gave him a small smile, he felt his cheeks tinge red. You didn’t notice it much under the golden glow of the setting sun, but that was mostly because it was framing him in an ethereal light that made it difficult to pick out small details, rather than admire him as a whole.

Normally, attention to detail was your specialty, but he was so special that it felt inherently wrong not to admire all of him.

“Yeah… you are, too.”

The confessions were indirect, yet meant a great deal to the both of you. It was telling of all you were feeling, but not enough to be overbearing on the first date.

“Where do you live, Utah?” The question you had been dreading for many reasons finally surfaced. You licked your lips, your entire mouth suddenly going dry at the thought. You looked around outside, trying to figure out where you were so you could give him directions. You had been too immersed in him to care about what was going on outside of the vehicle. You weren’t too far away from your apartment, and you were thankful that the instruction wouldn’t be too complicated.

“Um,” you hummed, pausing before giving him any direction. “Take a left on this street.” You pointed to the next turn, watching him as he clicked on the signal light and did as you said. “You’re gonna see a shitty old house that’s half burnt down. Take a right there.”

“Alright.” He nodded. You tapped your fingers against your leg, growing more nervous as he began to drive closer. The buildings grew more tattered looking with each passing moment, and you felt like you were going to explode. Nervousness plagued you as you wondered what he was thinking, or what he would think when he saw the state of your tiny little subdivision. Eventually, it grew to be too much and you had to speak.

“It’s not a very nice neighborhood… I’m sorry. I hope it doesn’t scare you away. It’s not half-bad once you get used to it.” You blurted out, immediately wishing you had bit your tongue and stayed quiet. He drummed his fingers against the leather steering wheel, looking around outside. His silence was a killer, and it only made you feel worse about the fact.

“I don’t think it’s bad at all.” At first, you thought he was lying to lessen the blow of what was to come next. When he didn’t continue, your nervous jitters seemed to wear away.

“R-really?” You stuttered, shocked at the response.

“Really.” He confirmed. “When I asked you to hang out, I wasn’t doing it in hopes you had a mansion or anything like that. I asked you out cause I like you, Utah. You don’t have to worry so much.” You wanted to respond, but you saw your complex out of the corner of your eye as he turned down the street.

“My building is right next to that bar. You can just park on the street. Nobody really drives down here unless they have to.” You explained, pointing it out to him. “And… thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being nice.” He whispered, parking right in front of the front door for you. When he put the car in park, he looked out the window for a while, realizing the extent of what he said and hurting at the thought of you feeling like you needed to thank him at all. He hated the idea of you feeling lesser, because he thought you were the best thing the world had to offer. It only took a day to know that you were everything, and knowing someone made you feel like nothing was sickening. “I should be thanking you for such a fantastic day.”

“It wasn’t anything much. I’m sorry for forgetting this morning, and I’m sorry I didn’t have something better planned.” You paused, feeling an ache in your heart before you spoke again. “Money is pretty tight, as I’m sure you can tell, but I hope you still had fun.” You knew your fun-filled day was likely nothing in comparison to what he was used to, and a wave of insecurities washed over as you thought about it.

“Are you kidding?” He said, astonished at your lack of awareness of the situation and oblivion to his feelings. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Utah. I had a great day, and it had nothing to do with where we went or what we did. I had a great day because it was with you.” He looked over at you, finding his heart speed at the sight of your face. He’d been looking at you all day and he was certain he would never get sick of it. “I’d sit on a park bench and share a muffin with you every day if I could, ‘cause I think that version of me is the happiest.”

God, why did he have to be so cute?

“I think that version of me might be the happiest. If not, it’s a close second to the version of me kissing you on that park bench.” You smiled, not daring to look away from him.

“Right, how could I forget that? That version of me is the happiest for sure.”

You were beginning to question if someone like him could even be real, or if you were stuck in a grand hallucination about someone you’d always wished to meet.

“I think I’d also like the version of us kissing in your car before I have to go inside.” You whispered, finding a newfound confidence after hearing all of his sweet words.

“I think I’d like that too.” He agreed, but did not make a move. He wanted you to do it on your own time, when you were comfortable.

“You think there’s a version of us that sits here all night, talking until the sun comes up?” You asked, leaning across the center console so you could be closer to him.

“If you’d like that, I’m sure there is.” He breathed, nodding as he moved towards you, too.

“I think I’d like any version of us, Michigan.” You confessed, a soft smile crossed your lips. He was close now, the warmth of his body radiating through the air and wrapping you in an aura of comfort.

“I know I’d like any version of us, Utah.” With that, his hand reached out to cup your cheek and he moved forward, closing the gap between you. You closed your eyes, a wave of blissfulness washing over you as his mouth moved against your own. You stayed like that for a long while, neither of you seeming to want to end the moment. When he did feel like he was going to pull away, you raised your hand to his arm and pulled him closer.

That seemed to be the permissive nature he was waiting for, and his hand dropped from your cheek to your hip. If he had one more shred of courage, you thought he might pull you across the console and into the driver's seat with him. He didn’t, but there was a part of you that so desperately wished he would. Now that you had him freely, with no guilt or shame looming over you, you wanted all of him. His large hand felt good on your hip, like it was always meant to be there, and the taste of him on your tongue was intoxicating.

You had never felt a touch nearly as good as his, and you’d never had an addiction that left you feeling so sick.

He was the best thing to ever exist, but all great things come with risk, and you feared that the risk that accompanied his love would be catastrophic.

He was lucky he caught you on a day where your self-control was greatly lacking.

Or maybe, you were the lucky one for once.

“Is there a version of us that goes upstairs together?” You asked, rushing the question out without thinking about the consequences. Thankfully, he seemed just as impulsive as you did in the moment. Without a response, he unbuckled his own seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Within seconds, he was opening your door for you and helping you out of the vehicle.

When your feet hit the ground, your hands found him immediately, already missing the feeling of touching him. In a fit of giggles and wandering touches, you managed to pull your keys from your pocket and unlock the front door. Danny stepped forward, wedging his foot between the door and the frame so it would not shut and lock itself. Then, he pulled you into him by your hip, seemingly unable to wait until you were upstairs to kiss you. You raised your hand to his cheek, cupping it gently and tangling your fingers in the locks of hair hanging over his cheek.

If you weren’t so enamored with the curly headed boy promising to be all that you once wished for, you would have noticed the old, rusted Pontiac Tempest sitting just down the street by the door of the Pony.

If you weren’t so concerned about your own happiness, you might have noticed the grief stricken expression of a broken boy sitting in the front seat, trying his best to disappear into ripped leather and the rotten body as tears stung his eyes.

Maybe, if Vincent cared enough to hold his sharp tongue and sober up, he would have been the boy carrying you home, rather than the boy watching as someone else swept you off your feet. He wanted to be all that you needed, but he did not know how.

Instead of trying, he waited for your will to bend so you would accept him as he was.

When the front door of your apartment complex fell shut behind the two of you, Vincent understood that waiting had never been the answer, and your will would never bend for him.

A bloody fist and a broken heart screamed into the night, knowing that his spot in your bed was finally filled by someone more willing to give than take.

Inside the apartment complex, the two of you ran up the stairs in a mess of lingering touches and excited jitters. You unlocked your front door, kicking it open while turning to Danny as you stepped backwards inside. His hands found your hips as soon as the door closed behind you, and his lips met your own with a whole new ferocity. Now, without any restrictions and no onlookers to bother you, you felt a type of freedom you hadn’t felt in your entire life.

Thankfully, he was too immersed in the feeling of your body pressed against his to care about the peeling paint and exposed brick on the walls.

Then again, after everything he had said that day, you were beginning to believe he wouldn’t have cared either way.

You were so focused on him that your keychain fell from your fingers, clanging against the floor but nowhere near loud enough to distract the two of you. Without breaking your kiss, you led him backwards into the ‘kitchen’ (the whole apartment was pretty much one big room anyway, so you were really just leading him to the part with a table). He followed your lead, uncaring for where he ended up as long as there was a promise of you.

The ache between your legs was so strong that you felt like you might die before he could relieve it. He parted from you only for a moment to take in his surroundings. His lips were swollen, blushed with pink darker than usual from the moment of intimacy just moments before. His chest was rising and falling, trying to catch up on lost air, and his eyes had darkened significantly compared to what you were used to.

If you thought Danny was stunning before, it had no comparison to how he looked then.

He looked past you, his gaze settling on the table filled with notebooks and pens. He looked back at you with a hint of an apology in his eye, then he reached around you. With one swipe of his arm, the surface was cleared of any clutter. Even if you were upset over it (which you certainly weren’t), his hands were already on your hips again and he lifted you onto the table before you even had time to form a complaint about it. If there was any hesitation about the action, it was long gone when he lifted you so easily, and your stomach was twisting with knots at the thought of him using such strength again. When you were settled atop the shaky table you’d found outside on the side of the street (which was a score in your option), you took it upon yourself to toss your jacket to the floor to join the keys.

His hands snaked up the sides of your sweater, his cold fingers settling on the warm skin. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and an entire day of trying to hold yourself back from how you felt about him dissolved into the most pointless battle you’d ever fought. You needed him, and you needed him more than the starving needed food, and it felt better than water to the thirsty. You needed Danny in every way possible, and you could not will yourself to wait. After weeks of texts and phone calls, visits to the diner where you avoided working as much as possible, to today when you shared kisses and sweet sentiments and tortured yourselves with endless flirting.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his breathing still heavy as he looked over your face for any sign of discomfort.

“God, yes.” You nodded, looking up at him towering over you still. There was a clear look of desperation in your eyes, and upon discovering it, it seemed to drive him near insanity. “Please, don’t stop.” If the look in your eye sent him spiraling, the words pushed him over the edge. The slight whimper in your tone was kryptonite to him and the way your lips formed into a pout as you spoke nearly forced him straight to his knees.

He brought his hand to your cheek again, more power behind his touch than the last time. His desire for you had thrown the gentle touch and hesitancy into the garbage. His other hand, still resting just under your shirt, slid to your back. He pulled you closer to him, settling between your legs in an instant. He leaned down, kissing you softly but with a force behind it that made your head spin. Just like every other thing he’d done that day, it felt no less than perfect. No less than right.

You reached up, brushing the jacket off his shoulders, feeling unequal in the fight of taking each other's clothes off. He let go of you just long enough to toss it to the floor, then resumed his position without any further interruption. Your tongue swiped over his bottom lip, begging him for a taste of something more, a taste of the one sin you could indulge in without it ruining your life. If you had to bet, you would have wasted your life savings on the fact that it would be better than anything you had ever felt before.

He lifted your sweater, exposing you to the chill of the air. You did not flinch, nor did you give it a second thought, knowing that soon enough he’d be warming you up again. Before he slipped the sweater over your head, he left a trail of kisses down your jawline, settling his lips just under your ear. You felt his teeth graze over the sensitive spot he’d discovered, making you shiver under his touch. “I need you, Danny.” You muttered, your fingers grasping around his bicep. The muscle flexed in response to your touch, and you were unsure if it was involuntary or purposeful.

He let out a hum at your words, the sound husky as it rattled through his chest, settling somewhere deep in your bones and making home there. He pulled away, slipping your sweater over your head and adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You sat in front of him, your bra the only thing standing between you and being exposed to him. The reality began to catch up to you, but it did not scare you away. The care and appreciation in his eyes was something new, and something you were desperate to get used to. Every touch was laced with caution, yet firmly accentuated everything he’d been feeling for you since the minute he laid eyes on you. His need for your comfort was beautiful, but nothing was more precious than him as a whole. You thought you would chicken out, that you would run after the reality of being so intimate with someone new after a year and a half hit you, but the feeling never came. It didn’t scare you, and it didn’t make you want to run; it drew you closer to him, and you wondered if it could feel this good all of the time.

“We can keep doing this, if that’s what you want.” He said, his fingers tickling your back as they trailed upwards, settling on the clasp of your bra. “It doesn’t have to just be tonight. I don’t want it to end after tonight.”

“Were you reading my mind?” You giggled, feeling the tension of the straps lessen as he unclipped the hooks.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled, looking down over your face. The simplicity between you two was astounding.

“I was just wondering if life could feel this good all of the time. Guess you just answered that for me.” You smiled up at him, lost in the sweetness of his eyes. “I don’t really want it to end after tonight, either.”

“Then it’s settled.” He said, dropping your bra to the floor. “We can spend lots of days sharing muffins on park benches.”

“And kissing on park benches?”

“And even better things… on kitchen tables.”

“I like the sound of that, too.” You breathed, talking fast in hopes that it would speed the process up. You began to notice that despite your lack of clothing, his eyes had yet to leave your face. You were afraid for him to look further, to inspect every flaw and insecurity that was in perfect display for him. You didn’t want him to look downwards, finding the sense of desire fleeing him as he picked up on every detail that you had grown to hate. As his eyes lingered on your face, he made no attempt to break the stare.

He cared about you more than he cared about your body. He’d grown to appreciate every small detail of you before ever taking your clothes off, and his opinion did not change for something as feeble as scars and imperfections. To him, less than perfect could not exist within you.

You gave him a smile. It was small, but it was reassuring. He returned the expression, letting his fingers drift carefully over the soft skin of your stomach. The light tickle distracted you from your internal thoughts, bringing you back to reality and forcing you to realize that Danny was not like the people that came before him. He was kind, he was sweet, and he cared. Even if you were not used to it, you knew it to be true.

He guided your upper half backwards slightly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your shoulder. Your eyes fluttered closed as the warmth of his lips spread across your entire body. His tongue delicately drifted over your collarbone, stopping momentarily to suck marks into the skin that would remind you of him in days to come. He continued downwards as his hand reached your chest, cupping one of your breasts in his hands. He let his thumb drift over one of your nipples as his tongue found the other.

“O-oh, fuck.” You squeaked, looking down at the top of his head as his tongue circled around the sensitive nub. It was an unfamiliar feeling, not because you’d never had sex, but because you rarely had sex that was more than just penetrative. Most often, it was treated as a race, but from the time you stepped into the door to where you were now, you weren’t even fully undressed. Normally, you’d already be turned on your side and begging yourself to fall asleep so you could finish Vincent’s job in the morning after he left.

Vincent was not bad at sex, but he certainly didn’t care about your pleasure more than his own.

Unless he was trying to apologize for something, which was rare in itself.

As he continued on, you found yourself moving your hips downward on the table, desperate for the friction as he continued his tirade. The first few times, he managed to ignore it. As it continued, he found it much harder to keep himself distracted, thinking too much about the mess between your legs he was responsible for.

“What’s wrong, baby?” The pet name seemed to shatter your psyche, forcing you to let go of what little self-respect you had left. “You want me to take care of you?” Even his filthy side was sweet, and it was just as addicting as the rest of him.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, watching intently as he unbuttoned your jeans. As he pulled down the zipper, you lifted your hips from the table. He hooked his fingers through the sides of your underwear, pulling both down in one swift motion. When you placed your hips back down, the coolness of the surface came as a shock, causing you to gasp. “I don’t think this is fair.” You said, trying to recover from the cold.

“What’s not fair?” He asked, clearly trying his best to only focus on your face. Having you completely exposed before him was something he had been waiting for, but he didn’t want to make it glaringly obvious.

“That I’m naked and you’re not.” You said, pointing out the obvious.

“Right.” He chuckled, nodding as he grabbed the hem of his shirt in his hands. He pulled it over his head, tossing it away. It was a mannerism he picked up from you, finding you saying the word more often than not. He thought it was cute, and so much so that it quickly infiltrated his own vocabulary. “Better?”

“Almost.” You said, wanting him to take the rest off, too.

“Impatient?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No,” you scoffed, denying the accusation almost immediately. “Okay yeah, maybe. So what?” You rolled your eyes.

“Some things are better if you wait.” He said, stepping towards you. He reached out, letting his hands skim your thighs. The touch sent jolts of electricity throughout your whole body, almost making you forget your argument. You, unlike him, could not hold back your stare. Your eyes were studying every available inch of him, from the broadness of his shoulders, to his strong arms, to the patch of hair on his chest. You swallowed hard at the sight of his stomach, and found your mouth watering when you reached the treasure trail, leading to the leather of his belt. The peek of a v-line enticed you further, and eventually you forced yourself to look back at his face. His lip was upturned into a smirk, but he didn’t comment on your blatant staring.

“I don’t know if that’s true. I’m not a big fan of waiting.” You disagreed, frowning only slightly. Instead of responding, he sank to his knees between your legs, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Some things, Utah.” He repeated, his arms hooking underneath your legs and his large hands landing on the outside of your thighs. He guided one leg over your shoulder, slowly running his hand down the limb to keep up the morale despite your disagreement. “Not everything.” With that, he placed a small kiss to the inside of your thigh, drawing back for just a moment to admire you, too. His eyes raked over your upper half, taking an extra moment to seat the memory into his mind forever. Then, his gaze dropped, looking over your stomach. You wanted to shy away, to hide yourself so he did not pick up on any rolls or stretch marks that made the picture less appealing. He seemed to notice your refrain, his eyes flickering back to your face. “You’re gorgeous, y/n.” He said, his tone firm. Your cheeks reddened at the words and you could not seem to formulate a response. “The prettiest girl I have ever seen.”

“You, too.” You squeaked, your cheeks turning crimson now, incriminating you further. He let out a chuckle.

“I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen? Thank you.” What would normally leave you in an anxious mess seemed to melt the tension away further. Your silly comment didn’t bother you in the slightest, because it struck a smile on his face. That was something that outshined anything else.

“Your heart swelled with affection for the man between your legs, and your insecurities seemed to melt away. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” He shook his head, happy that it seemed to lessen your anxiety. His lips dusted over your thighs again before his eyes settled on your cunt. The muscles in his jaw tensed and his eyes darkened further. You were aching for him, dripping with arousal and it was glaringly obvious how badly you needed him to touch you. After taking the time to appreciate you, he guided your other leg over his shoulder. Then, he leaned forward, letting his tongue connect with your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, your eyes closing and your hips moving forward to meet his mouth. He barely touched you, but it felt like he’d given you the whole world. It had been too long, and you had been waiting for him for a long time. He let his tongue run through you, focusing first on your entrance to get a taste of the arousal he’d caused. He took in a long breath, humming a noise of pleasure from the sweetness of you. Eventually, his tongue moved upwards, circling around your swollen clit to give you a little relief.

You reached down, tangling your hand in his hair as your back arched, begging for more without even saying a word. From your reaction alone, he could tell how badly you needed it and he was nothing if not generous. He flattened his tongue against you, licking a solid stripe for one last savoring moment before returning his focus to your clit. He suctioned his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, the feeling of pleasure quickly spreading through your entire body. Your abdomen tensed in reaction to the sensation, finding it unfamiliar yet familiar all the same. It was something you did not experience often, and something you hadn’t experienced in a very long time. You couldn’t remember if it normally felt so good, or if Danny was just good at what he did.

As you thought back, you knew nothing had ever compared to what he was doing to you now, and Danny was most definitely just good at what he did.

You were embarrassed at how good you were feeling, unbelieving of the knot already tightening in your belly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, drawing him closer as his tongue continued to work at you. A whine left your lips, laced with neediness and only encouraging him further.

“Feels so fucking good, baby. Please don’t stop.” The pet name did the same to him as it did for you, filling his stomach with an unfamiliar feeling and making his head spin. He groaned against you, the vibration furthering your pleasure as you gripped onto the counter with force to hold yourself steady. Your head fell back between your shoulders, a moan tearing through your chest as a wave of euphoria ran through you. You wanted to cum, but you didn’t want him to stop. It was a Catch-22 for you, but either outcome was going to be good no matter what.

His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the table for easier access to you. He wanted all of you, in any way he could have you. The taste of you on his tongue was something he never wanted to forget, and the feeling of your legs trembling in response to his own actions was thrilling. He quickly learned that making you feel good was the best feeling in the whole world.

“Oh, god.” You whined. He felt your leg tightened around him, drawing him closer without any intent at all. The sound was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, but he knew what it meant. He drew back, quickly slipping his thumb in place of his tongue so he did not completely ruin the moment for you. You looked down, desperation in your eyes as you silently pleaded with him to keep doing what he was seconds before.

“So close already?” He asked, only slightly teasing you as his thumb drifted over your clit. It felt good, but nowhere near how good his mouth felt.

“I-I know, I’m s-sorry.” You stuttered, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

“Don’t ever apologize for that.” He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The domineering tone of voice he was using sent a rush of emotion straight to your core, making it even harder to hold on. “Do you want to cum for me, baby?”

“I do,” you gasped, feeling the burning in your belly reach an intensity you’d never quite felt before. “Please, baby. I need it so bad. Please.” You groaned, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the edge of the tabletop.

“Sound so pretty when you beg for it,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. You felt his fingers slide down to your entrance, slowly pushing inside of you as his eyes focused intently on his hand. The look on his face nearly drove you over the edge alone, but when his fingers curled upwards, hitting the sweet spot inside of you, there was no more holding back. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna hear how good it feels.”

As he spoke, you realized that his tongue was more beneficial when it was talking you through it, rather than doing the work. The sound of his voice was like a blanket of comfort and the filth of his words daring you closer to the edge. You felt yourself clench around his fingers, the muscles in your stomach tightening as your legs began to shake. You weren’t sure if you had ever felt so good in your life, and you wondered how it was so fucking easy for him to do such things to you.

“Fuck, Danny.” You cursed, a whimper falling from your lips as pleasure plagued your entire body.

“That’s it, beautiful. Just like that.” He encouraged, keeping his thumb in time with the pump of his fingers. You let out a moan in response, but it got stuck in your throat. You wanted to cry out, to tell him all about how good he was making you feel, but you could not even do that. It felt so fantastic that it made you forget how to. “Tell me about it, gorgeous.” He whispered, desperate to hear the beautiful noises fall from your lips. At the sound of his voice, the moans grew louder and more desperate, easily telling him of all he wanted to know.

You did not remember how to do it, unless of course he was telling you to. You would do anything he asked of you.

The sensation became too much, all of your nerve endings searing with pleasure. Your stomach felt like it was engulfed in flames and your limbs ached with the tension of your muscles. You descended into the climax, euphoria surrounding you as your eyes squeezed shut. It felt so good, so intense that you feared you might fall if not for his strong hand holding you steady. “There you go,” he hummed, his eyes glued to your face as it twisted into an expression of pleasure. He normally thought you were stunning, but in that moment, he thought it more than ever.

As you began to come down from the high, you were still delirious. So much so that you barely noticed him standing, unbuckling his belt and tossing it to the ground. You only came to when he kicked his jeans to the side, taking post between your legs once again. “M’sorry, baby. I don’t think I can wait any longer.” He admitted, regretful that he seemed to be rushing.

“It’s okay,” you promised, now more excited at the idea of fully having him.

“I can give you more later, but right now, I need you.”

Oh, how fantastic it felt to be needed by him.

“S’okay, Danny.” You reiterated your point, finding no need for him to feel bad at all. “Please fuck me.”

“If you insist.” He chuckled, placing his hand on your back as he prompted you to lay down on the table. “Would you like me to make it more romantic? Could I find a candle or something, really set the mood?”

“Shut up.” You giggled, wincing as your back hit the cold table. The temperature made your nipples harden even further, and his eyes scanned down to your chest as if he was expecting it, or waiting for it, even.

“Aw, come on. No need to be mean.” He said, lifting your legs and wrapping them around him. By your thighs, he pulled you to the edge of the table to make it easier for you both. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“Not a big romance fan.” You confessed, grinning up at him.

“No?” He raised an eyebrow, resting the tip of his cock on your entrance. The feeling was enticing, but you didn’t want to rush into it. “So what? You’d rather me fuck you like a whore?” The switch in tone made your blood run cold, but not because you didn’t like it. The change in his voice was incredibly appealing, and you wanted him to use it more often. He could see the expression in your face change, going from amused to intrigued. A smile blossomed on his lips as he ran his tip through the wetness still pooling between your legs. “Is that it, baby?” He questioned, continuing to tease you. An intense sensation spread through your stomach as his cock brushed over your still sensitive clit, driving you crazy the longer he let it linger there.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, feeling him line himself up with you again.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you.” He asked, pushing his hips forward only slightly. Just his tip rested inside of you, the feeling worse than torture. You let out a sigh, wondering if it would encourage him if you moved down on him yourself.

“Please fuck me, Danny.” You repeated, growing more desperate by the second.

“One more time?” He pressed further, trying his best to get on your nerves.

“Oh, come on.” You scoffed, growing irritated with his teasing. “You want me to sit here and beg for it all night?” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but at the same time, you were more than ready for him to fuck you. As the words left your lips, he seemed to take it better than expected and slammed his hips forward. A cry left your lips at the suddenness of his actions, the sensation painful but so pleasant at the same time.

“I liked it a whole lot better when you were.” He said, honest enough. He was mostly saying it just to keep up the act, but you had pressed a button, even if it wasn’t very long lasting. The feeling of being inside of you atoned for the moment of annoyance.

“I’m s-sure you did.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as he pulled your hips down on him and slammed back into you.

“Didn’t take you for a brat.” He commented, smirking down at you as he fucked into you. It was so good, something you had dreamed about, yet even better than you imagined. A fictional fabrication of the scenario did not even come close to the feeling of the real thing. The sound of skin on skin, the sweaty bodies sticking together, the heavy breathing ringing through the room was all too much, yet not enough at the same time.

“I am not a brat,” you argued, reaching out to touch him. Your fingers settled on his arm, the warmth of his body familiar and comforting. It reminded you he was still him, and he would be long after the act was over. Sex was nice, but the touch was grounding, ensuring you wouldn’t fall too far from reality. “Just because I don’t say exactly what you want me to say doesn’t make me a brat.”

“I think it does, baby.” He chuckled, loving the fact that even during sex, there was that fiery little part of you that still existed. It was the very thing that drew him to you in the first place. “Where’d the arguments come from? You were so good just a few minutes ago.”

“What, you only want to fuck me when I’m being good for you?” You asked, gripping his arm a little tighter as you felt his cock brush against your cervix. “Bit self-centered, don’t you think?”

“No, I still want to fuck you.” He said , his fingers digging into your hips in the most delicious way. You could feel the sting of bruises already begin to form, and you were excited to see the dark shadows the next morning to remind you of his generous nature. “Makes it more fun, actually.”

“Why is that?” You rolled your eyes, finding the role of a brat more fitting with each second that passed. It was comfortable with him, and your personality continued to shine through even while experiencing such new things.

“‘Cause I don’t have to feel bad when I tell you to shut the fuck up.” He stated, delivering another forceful thrust of his hips. This time, you did not have an argument for his words, because a sharp yelp sounded through the room, echoing off the walls and hanging heavy in the air. The roughness felt so good, addicting almost. Everything about him was, and you weren’t surprised about it anymore. “You want to be good for me again, baby?”

“Why should I?” You said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it proved difficult. Your words were shaky, strained with the knot tightening in your belly again. He let out another chuckle, finding your fight endearing. You did not take him as dominant, especially after how sweet he’d been to you all day, but it was good. Now that you saw the difference, it seemed fitting.

“‘Cause you want to cum again.” He stated as a matter-of-fact.

“And if I’m not good, you won’t let me?” Your eyes closed, the pull of pleasure calling your name as sweat began to head on your forehead. You were calling his bluff, but there was a small part of you that feared he really would not let you.

“I’d definitely consider it.” He said, a knowing look on his face. He would consider it, and he would go through with it.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You muttered, feeling breathless at the abundance of emotion coursing through your veins. The feeling was so intense it was making your head swirl, and you couldn’t risk letting go of it.

“Are you?” He asked, letting his hand trail up your stomach. “Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” His hand settled over your breast, firmly squeezing it in his hand and showcasing his desire to move on from the topic.

“Oh, does it really matter?” You exclaimed, nearly delirious from your need for him. Talking was a dead-end, and as much as you liked the sultry tone of his voice, there were more pressing matters at hand.

“It does,” he nodded, letting his thumb drift over your hardened nipple. The sensation raised goosebumps across your skin, combining with the feeling growing more intense in the pit of your stomach. It was maddening, the longer it continued the more you feared for your life, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him stopping. When you didn’t respond, he pinched your nipple between his fingers, sending a shock through you.

“I mean it, I’m sorry.” You rushed out, hoping his impatience wouldn’t affect his desire to please you.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He asked, looking down at you with adoration sparkling in his eye. Even with his mind clouded by desire, he couldn’t help but appreciate you and all of your beauty. Your eyes glistening with annoyance and the way your skin wrinkled by your eyebrows when you furrowed them caught his attention, but your flushed cheeks and parted lips locked him in for eternity. The thin layer of sweat over your forehead and the messy hair gave him a sense of confidence, and your hands reaching for him, grasping desperately to touch him filled him with a warmth he’d never quite felt before.

Fucking you felt right, but so did the feelings blossoming in his heart. You were right to him, no matter what baggage you came with or how adverse you felt about falling in love and opening your heart. He could see that you felt it to, making the falling much less scary. Knowing you were falling to meant he had someone to hold along the way, rather than experiencing it by himself.

“Can you keep being good for me?” He teased, dropping his hand from your chest. His fingers ghosted down your stomach and eventually settled around the front of your thigh. He used the grip as leverage to pull you back onto him as he kept a steady pace with his hips. “Or is that too much to ask of you?” The playful banter was comforting, and with every word he spoke, it seemed like you were closer and closer to your second climax. Even though his words were rude at times, clearly used to put you in your place, you knew it was an act. Beneath the surface, there was still ample amounts of care, ensuring that even if his words were harsh, you knew he did not mean them.

“I can,” you nodded, feeling too good to test his patience. As much as you enjoyed teasing him, you enjoyed getting off much more. You would be a fool to say anything that might cause him to stop.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” He asked, noticing the look in your eye. It was familiar now, a sight he was certain he’d never forget. His tone was sweer, doting on you as if he hadn’t just spent the last few minutes throwing indirect insults your way.

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered, feeling your walls tightening around him, drawing him in even further in hopes of locking him there for eternity. “So close, baby.” You warned, feeling his hand snake between your legs. When his thumb landed on your clit, tracing slow circles in time with his hips, he did not need to speak for you to know what he wanted.

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged, but it was a plea disguised as something else. He needed it just as much as you did, finding himself barely hanging on. You looked up at his face, finding everything you were seeing drive you even close to the edge. His curls were sticking to his neck, his head tilted back ever so slightly as he staved off his own pleasure. His adams apple stood prominently, drawing your focus to his throat and in turn, the columns of his neck leading down to his collarbones. He was a work of art, and you felt discrepant in comparison to his beauty. The curl of his lip, holding back a groan that was begging to be spoken made you wonder what you did to deserve such a relation with him. Every detail of him was more extravagant than the last, and you knew that nobody would ever compare.

He looked down, noticing your lack of words, noticing immediately that you had been staring at him. His thumb moved faster with more pressure behind the action as a smirk turned his lips. Your face flushed, realizing that he was getting off at the knowledge of you watching him. For some reason, the idea turned you on even further. Unfortunately, you did not have much of a threshold to withstand any more, and the passing thought sent you spiralling into euphoria.

You came hard, the entire world seeming like it would disappear from sight, leaving only you and him in an endless cycle of chaos. But, his chaos was addicting, and you couldn’t think of a better way to spend eternity. Your chest ached for a breath of air as your legs locked around him, holding him close to you as he helped you through the high. It felt so good that your mind went awry, delirium settling deep in your bones as your skin was set ablaze with pleasure. In reality, it only lasted a few seconds, yet the intensity made it feel like a lifetime.

“There you go, sweet girl.” He hummed, his thumb loosening up on the pressure as your body began to relax against the table. The term of endearment sent you spiralling in a whole new dimension, this time not accredited to sexual gratification. Not only did he make you feel good physically, but continued along with emotional fulfillment to cement the memory in your brain forever. “Being so good for me, baby.” He said, clearly fighting the urge to let go himself. With a clouded mind and heavy eyes, you looked to his face, finding the sight the cherry on top of the best night of your entire life. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Danny.” You whimpered, the intensity of the orgasm still lingering over your entire body. His eyes fluttered closed, his heartbeat rapid in his chest as he felt his own climax begin to take over. He continued with his pace for a few seconds, savouring every last bit of having you so close to him. When he knew he could not wait any longer, he pulled out in just enough time. Your grip on his arm remained steady as he spilled his release onto your stomach, his jaw tense as profanities lingered in the air.

The two of you remained in the same position for a while, heavy breathing and the memory of the night lingering in the air even long after it was over. Your hand remained on his arm, loosening into a soft touch as you clung to every bit of closeness the moment had to offer. His large hand still holding your thigh was comforting, and the warmth of his skin offset the chill of your apartment. Slowly, you reached up, cupping his face in your hand. You let your thumb drift over his cheek, gently caressing the skin and pulling his attention back to you. There was a smile lingering on his lips, his chest still rising and falling as he tried to catch up on his breathing. You smiled too, telling him everything that was on your mind without even needing to say a word.

Then, you spoke. One tiny little word that in reality, meant little to most people. To the two of you, it was everything.

“Stay.” The word was so quiet it barely reached his ears before it dissipated in the air, but he caught it. He would strain to listen for every word that left your lips, never willing to miss a single thing even if you thought it was unimportant.

“Was never going to leave, anyway.” He promised, turning his head ever so slightly to place a kiss to the pad of your thumb. The small action made your heart race, but his words did more for you. You couldn’t comprehend the idea of someone wanting to stay, but he wasn’t giving you any opportunity to disregard it. “We should get cleaned up, though. You’re freezing.” He noted, reaching up to grab your hand in his own. He closed his hand around your fingers, warming the cold skin immediately.

“Okay,” you nodded, but you didn’t really want to. If you could, you would have lived in the moment forever. “I should shower.” You said, glancing down at your stomach. He gave a light chuckle, his eyes apologetic as he nodded, too. Then, after a moment of shared silence, an idea struck him.

“Showering together saves water, you know.” He offered the idea, nervous to overstep.

“I do care a lot about the environment.” You grinned, hoping he knew he could never overstep with you.

“Let’s get to it, then.” He said, moving back from you just for long enough to help you off the table. You stood, careful not to make a mess, but quickly realizing you did not care. “Lead the way, Utah.” It was a phrase he’d coined that day, and would live to follow for the rest of his life. He never felt uncertain or worried as long as you were there to guide him. With a matching grin plastered on your cheeks, you grabbed his hand, taking off into a sprint down the short hallway to lead him to the bathroom.

For once, your sorrows seemed to be far away, and instead of screaming with loneliness and poverty, your old, run down apartment finally had a lingering sense of home.

You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you knew you would savour every minute of it until the fleeting moments finally disappeared. Or, until he disappeared. You tried to bargain with whichever would come first, but you knew that the two went hand in hand. The feeble relief of happiness was fully accredited to him, and you knew it would come and go along with him, too. Thought of the end pained you, even if it was only the beginning. It lingered over your head, a constant threat you felt the need to be weary of, because you knew that not only would you lose Danny, but also the feeling of finally being happy after an entire lifetime spent searching for it.

TAGLIST: @imleavingyoufornewyork @itsafullmoon @bladenotblaze @jessicafg03 @dont-go-home-without-me @peaceloveunitygvf @torniturntomyarrow @lostoverseer @clairesjointshurt @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @smoking-jakelane @gretavangirlie @hollyco @aintthatapity

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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I loved the first half of belladonna iii!! The way you manage to put soul and heart in writing will never cease to amaze me, the part where she spoke during her AA meeting was so gut wrenching but simultaneously beautiful.

Also, the fact that Danny is so head over heels for her is the cutest, most sweetest thing ever, I love her, and I’m rooting for her forever!!

Kisses and hugs, your biggest fan🍓🍓💋💋

and I am your biggest fan!! I can’t thank you enough my love 🤍 keep an eye out for part two, where there’s definitely a whole lot more of head over heels-ness 😁

#asks <3 #belladonna

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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the rest of belladonna III will probably be out sometime tonight or tomorrow. my apologies, I really aimed to have it finished this weekend, but life is kicking my ass again. stay tuned, i can’t wait to share it with you guys 🤍

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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been feeling some type of way lately

#😔#cause why would a hug from this man solve all of my problems #greta van fleet #gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #jake gvf #sam gvf #josh gvf #gvf fic #daniel wagner

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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and what if i said i can’t handle this? hmm??? what then? what if chapter eleven is my last straw??

Covet: Chapter 11 (Sneak Peek)

a/n: this is only half of what this scene is in chapter 11... buuuut, this is a scene that has been imagined for a hot damn second... and i kind of went crazy with it when it came time to write it. soooo, here's a (long ass) sneak peek of the scene that's been planned as a reunion of sorts for our two (angsty) romantics <3

i hope it's enough to tide you over until chapter 11 drops. and, ohhhh friends.... chapter 11..... it's a doozy (that includes something that many have been itching for... what could it be?)

buuut, until then, here is your little taste (🤭) of chapter 11!!

Warnings: smut (18+ MINORS DNI); oral (f! receiving); pregnancy; insecurities; anxiety; slight jealousy, i guess?; pregnancy hormones out the wah-zoo lmao (emotions, libido, etc)

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Oh, so you didn’t get it out of your system with Maya that night?” You clipped, not ready to just ignore the fact that you’d had to suffer through that shit. How damn livid you’d been.

“I was angry, and she was there for me,” he explained, before sighing deeply. You could imagine he was shaking his head with the action. “But I was thinking of you. You and your beautiful fucking body that’s growing my kid.”

God. You felt your core flex and continue to drip with arousal at his words. You were not in the mood to be the one in the right anymore. You didn’t want to be smart about your choices. . . you wanted his mouth on you and you wanted to let him do whatever the fuck he had in mind.

It would be one time.

And. . . . it would technically be him helping you to benefit the baby. . . the less stressed you were, the less stress the baby felt. And God only knew how fuckin’ stressed you were lately.

And there was only one way–one person–you wanted to relieve that right now.

Fuck morality.

“Who’s to say you’ll want me when you actually see me like this?” You genuinely wondered.

You couldn’t believe you were actually giving this fucking idea any substance. There really was no way it could end well.

But your thoughts just kept trailing to how it could end well. . . very well. . . With you moaning his name as you finished against his tongue or around his cock . . .just for tonight. And, dirty as it would be to her, technically Maya did tell him to help with whatever you needed, so it wasn’t entirely against her wishes.

Although, you were one thousand percent sure this was not what she meant. . . . at all.

“Try me,” he challenged, voice rasping with the two daring words.

You were in no place to turn him down for such a thing. Your body was in no place to deny his help much longer. So, with wobbly legs and weak knees, you stood up. Your ass tingled, hurting just a bit and you were trying so hard to not somehow slip on any water on the shower floor. You decided to lean against the opposite wall, holding on to the plastic bar built into the middle of the longer wall, adjacent to him.

It was clicking that he was about to see your naked body in a way he’d never seen it before. . . you needed to make sure you looked as good as you could with puffy eyes from crying and a red face from the heat of the shower.

So, you did what you could and bent one wet leg at the knee, thankfully feeling silky smooth from your shave. You worked to accentuate your curves, in a body that didn’t always feel like your own anymore. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest, but knew the pressure would hurt like a bitch if you did that. The other option was tucking them behind your back, so that was what you did, holding the plastic bar in the wall with both hands, pushing your chest up a bit with the action.

You couldn’t conceal the whine that slipped from your lips when you crossed your thighs, pushing them together, adding a little bit of pressure where you needed it so badly.

But, no matter how much your body felt literally pulled to him, you couldn’t help asking. . . “Are you sure about this?”

“Um, yes,” he said, no doubt in his tone at all. Though, after he said it, he paused, ready to await your words. “. . .Are you?”

Guilt was what you should’ve felt in this moment. But, right then and there, guilt was as far out of the window as it could’ve possibly been. This felt real. Natural. Nowhere near wrong any longer – only right. So fucking right.

So, if he thought it was okay, so did you.

“Yes,” you breathed, whining on the word without warning, your legs having rubbed together once more. Your swollen chest was heavy with each breath you took, waiting for him.

“Let me see you,” he beckoned.

Needing the curtains gone from between you, but scared to move and end up falling, you huffed, snorting a bit at the thought of falling again. Pregnancy and POTs were not a good combination for a clumsy-ass like yourself.

“I’m afraid I’ll land on my fuckin’ ass if I move,” you explained, a little giggle following the words. “Um, c-can you–?”

And before you could even finish the request, the thin barrier between you suddenly vanished and. . . standing before your naked, wet body. . . was him.

Your eyes didn’t instantly find his face, suddenly shy in front of the man who’d seen you naked so many times before. So, you focused fully on his body. He was still fully clothed, but completely there, right in front of you.

And, from what you could tell from the outline of his dick in his dark jeans, he was definitely wanting you. He wanted to help in this special way. . .

“Oh my god,” he rasped, so low in his throat.

Instantly, you snapped your glance from where you’d been eyeing his body to see his face. He was staring at your legs, which still looked as they had before the baby, for the most part.

But, very slowly, his eyes trailed from your legs, all the way to your midsection – a part of you that had definitely changed. Round as could be at 17 weeks along, his expression became primal; his stare, so hungry for what his eyes were feasting on that you felt it with every harsh beat of your heart.

You felt extremely vulnerable in his presence, under his gaze. Felt weak at the sound of his voice. The way you were bared completely to him, and him liking what he saw. . . made the blood in your veins red hot.

The blush crept up on every part of you – your cheeks and chest, burning. You felt yourself becoming restless for him, your heart beating so quick you felt almost nauseous at the way his eyes had darkened. His lips stayed pursed as his jaw flexed. You felt your chest react further, as your nipples peaked at his nearness. As if sensing it, his eyes moved to watch your fuller chest, your breathing hitching on each breath.

Time was moving in slow motion.

And the way he bit his lip, as he finally locked his dark eyes with yours, would forever be etched in your memory.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed. “You are so—.”

The heavy beat of your heart was lodged in your throat, your breath catching. “Kiss me, Jake.”

And without question, he was stepping over the ledge of the bathtub, still fully clothed, until his boots were sloshing in the shallow puddle of water that swooshed to the drain. His hands found your body soon, chilly against your heated skin. He held your waist the best he could with the new addition of the baby bump, but still managed to hold you in such a way that you felt like he was in charge. The way he held you reminded you that you were nothing more than putty in his strong hands.

He started leaning in, his grip on you, so firm, steady, sure. . . .

The last time you’d seen him so close to you had been far too long ago. The night in the kitchen when you’d spilt the water, it had been too dark – and you’d been turned away from him. But, you were not turned away right now. Quite the opposite.

No, right now, you could see every detail of his plush, pink lips as he leaned in further to you. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

You were ready to feel his lips on yours.

He was close enough for you to see the stubble coming in above his lip. Though, suddenly, his hands dropped from around your waist and his eyebrows dipped as he started backing away.

No no no no no please –.

“I–I can’t–,” he shook his head, now drenched from the spray of the shower. You followed his action, backing up, too, your eyes looking over his body as he stood before you, unmoving. Just far enough away to not touch each other.

He wasn’t getting out completely, but he’d distanced himself.

Was he already regretting this? God, your heart started to split in your chest. . . you’d opened yourself completely up, only for him to decide against this – against you.

“Do you not want me?” You asked, voice mixed with hesitation and hurt. Your line of sight landed on your own feet, refusing to look at him. “Because, fuck, Jake – I told you! I told you we shouldn’t have– but now you have me fucking shaking and — goddammit, Jacob! It’s not fair for you to get me to admit those things and then bail as soon as you–!”

“Y/n,” he growled your name, commanding your eyes to land on his. His stare was no different than before. The irritation was flaring, again, though. Just a bit. You could tell. He stepped closer by one step. “I’m not going to fucking bail. I told you I wanted to please you and I plan on keeping my damn promise. I want to taste you so badly. . . I just– ugh.”

Your pulse was pounding in your ears, your chest hot and your heat clenching at nothing. . . You didn’t know how to respond.

You continued to buzz with anticipation that wouldn’t dissipate in the dense, humid air of the shower. Doing the only thing you could do, you decided to admire what was in front of you.

His shirt was opened to the middle of his abdomen on what you knew to be a chilly December evening, daring him to catch a damn cold.

But. . . the sight made you anything but cold–no, seeing his perfectly toned chest heaving and soaking wet. . . it made your entire body flame. His shirt was light blue, the water soaking through the material to make it nearly transparent. It gave you a glimpse at everything beneath his shirt. . . You saw his toned pecs that you needed to put your hands on again. You needed to feel the smooth skin of his chest–with your hands, tongue. . . anything.

Needed to feel him.

So, you did what your body told you to do at that moment.

Taking one wary step forward, you reached your hand out slowly, letting him stop you if he needed to. But, he didn’t stop you. When you glanced up at his face to read his reaction, he was watching your hand move, mouth agape at the action. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek as you took one more step towards him. Without any more thought, you placed your delicate hand on the exposed part of his tanned chest. And, daring to feel more, you slid your palm underneath his button-down shirt to feel one of his toned pecs.

His breath caught at the motion.

It felt like home to be touching him like this again.

His chest flexed under your hand with the sharp intake of breath. Your breath was choppy, too, not daring to breathe too harshly to scare him away. This moment felt so eerily similar to a moment so long ago – that damn game night. The moment you’d been dared by a stupid ass card game to touch him.

But this time–this time felt worlds different.

There was history–a baby–between the two people in this moment of time and you knew how to read his body.

So, it was no surprise to you when he took a step forward, nearly meeting the front of your body with his. You knew it was going to happen before it did; you knew that his hand would reach up to touch your chest as well.

You watched his hand as he followed through. Though, he didn’t touch your breast like you expected. No, he balanced his hand right above your heart, where it beat furiously for him.

“Jake,” you begged, his name saying everything you couldn’t say. Your thighs rubbed together of their own accord, desperate. “Please.”

And there it was. His hand immediately went to hold your full, sore breast. It was like a weight was lifted off your chest, literally. You were finding that the only relief your chest could find was from his touch.

Your legs continued to work at creating friction with every movement of his gentle massage on your breast. The way your chest heaved, nipple so sensitive and taut beneath his palm, your body was pleading for more. Still. You needed more. His hand moved away from the nipple and he held the underside of your left breast.

“Jake,” you were whining, outright. It was pitiful as hell. But – you couldn’t give two flying fucks.

“I–I can’t kiss your lips,” he explained, voice gravelly and low above you, floating directly to your ear. You looked up, waiting for him to continue. There was more he wanted to say, it was obvious. “That’s–I have to keep something that is unique and sacred to my relationship. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” It did. It made complete sense and you admired his feeble attempt at saving something for her. . . but, you couldn’t help that it cracked your heart the slightest bit that you weren’t able to feel his lips against yours.

The tears were welling in your eyes all on their own–couldn’t stop them if you tried. Although, you couldn’t tell if they were from baby hormones or an honest result of the new crease left in your heart at him so obviously not being yours.

He belonged to her – not to you. And the lack of kissing was a painful, blatant reminder of that.

Kissing him had been something so normal and familiar only a few months ago, you could have kissed him any time you wanted (well, almost any time. . . but still). And . . . you’d given that up.

Given him up.

So what could he do?

“What can you do?” Your voice broke with the wetness in your throat, a tear stupidly trickled down your face.

His grip on your breast stayed firm, his hand kneading the supple flesh just right. “You okay, honey?” He asked, meeting your question with his own. He reached a hand up to hold your cheek and swipe a few more stray tears. “Shhh,” he hushed gently as his hand still worked to soothe your heavy chest.

You sniffled, body sparking, growing goosebumps rapidly at the way he was stimulating you so deliciously. Your thighs worked hard to ease the throb between your legs. Playing it off the best you could, you offered him a half-assed response. “Don’t ask me why the tears are happening–it’s–it’s the baby hormones,” you sniffed again, willing the tears to go away.

Thankfully, they did. And, after they’d subsided, he went to touch your other breast, your hand still on his chest, now clawing at his skin with each measured press of his hand at your aching breasts. Your hand trailed up to hold his neck, thumb smoothing at the flesh behind his ear. God, you’d missed holding him and you really loved that spot behind his ear. . . couldn’t explain it.

“How does it feel?” He soothed, licking his lips once at a sigh you emitted with one particular graze to your tight nipple.

“So fucking good,” you grit out, your hand gripping gently at the roots of his long hair, darkened and soaking wet from the water flowing from the showerhead. “How do you know how to–? They hurt when anyone else holds them. . . but not with you– how?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a hoarse chuckle. “I have been doing research on how to–,” he coughed, his other hand coming to join the one on your chest, doing his best to give equal treatment to both of your tits. And dammit if he wasn’t doing the best fucking job at it.

You gasped a whine at the additional pressure, his dark eyes finding yours as soon as you’d made the sound. The smile you gave him was bashful, cheeks flaring a deep pink in the soft moment.

He continued his words as he worked his hands so intentionally against your swollen, aching chest. “I’ve been reading on how to pleasure pregnant women– what to do to make them feel better. . . since your body’s changing and shit. And you told me that your tits have been sore, so I’ve been reading on how to help that specifically. I didn’t think I’d get to try it out on you – but, here we are,” he smirked, his eyes connecting with yours once more as he raised a brow.

Didn’t think he’d ‘get to try it out on you’.

You blushed, his eyes going back to watching your tits as he softly swirled a thumb on your nipple, you moaned, following his eyes with your own. God bless America. Watching him do it was worse. Your nerves were on fire and you felt your muscles tighten at your core, needing his touch in a million places at once.

“And, when pregnant women have sore tits, it apparently helps to massage them,” he continued, informing you of his research. “So, I thought I’d try that.”

“What else did you find in your research?” You asked, watching his hands move just so, his thumbs rubbing purposefully light circles around and over your nipples. Fuuuck yes.

“For sore tits or overall pleasure?” He pondered, eyebrow raising again as he caught your line of sight.

“Pleasure,” you breathed, feeling his hands come to a devastating halt on your chest, smoothing over your sides before he dropped them.

Goddammit, Jake. Don’t stop.

“Well, I know that some pregnant women really like being touched and have a pretty high libido,” he paused, bringing his hands up to push his soaking wet hair back. Your hand dropped from behind his head. “But I also found that other pregnant women experience the exact opposite – have an aversion to sex.” He eyed you, squinting with a knowing smirk. “I could probably guess which type you are by how much you loved that just now, but . . . I want you to tell me. High libido or low?”

“Well,” you paused, your legs suddenly feeling like Jell-o. So, not wanting to fall or some shit, when he’d successfully pushed his hair back, you reached both hands up to wrap around the base of his head, your fingers working at your own massage on him. “I–I haven’t really felt a high libido for anyone but you. . . I don’t think I’d want it from anyone else right now. . . So, I don’t know what that makes me. High, maybe?” You pondered aloud, wanting his opinion of your predicament. “. . .If I only want you, a high libido for you?”

“Fuck. Are you serious?” You watched one hand reach between you to rub against the strain at his zipper. The other hand came to your hip, pulling you into him further.

He brought you as close as you could come with a new belly in the middle. He glanced down at the growing bump, his eyes gazing at it, so gently. He didn’t reach to touch it—not yet. . . Seeming to wait on you for permission, but not saying it. But. . . you just felt now was not the right time.

So, instead, you surveyed him.

The sight of him admiring your belly was almost too much to process. . . He was looking so carefully and affectionately — he got it. He felt it.

You sniffed, biding your tears the best you could. And at the sniff, his eyes flicked to you. . . His stare said something you thought daily.

That’s my baby, he seemed to say with only a simple twinkle in his eye. His dark irises became so light, his under eye circles seemed to disappear with the wonder in his stare.

He winked at you and sent you into a minor frenzy. As your heart worked to pick back up, he began moving his hand down to your ass to pay attention to the muscle you’d told him was sore earlier.

Your sighs filled the air, your senses overwhelmed by him. He rasped his next question, back on the topic from earlier, voice so low between the two of you. “You only want me?”

“Only you,” you confirmed, the honest words brushing against his face with your quiet, sighed response.

“So, if I were to be wanting to. . . help you, you know. . . you’d say you have a high libido?”

“So fucking high.”

“Thank fucking God,” he growled. And with one more push of his hand against himself, he moaned under his breath, and with one more squeeze to your ass, he grasped both of your hips, holding you to him tightly. Your belly, pressed between the two of you, still so foreign in a moment like this.

“Well, there are countless positions to try, but right now I can’t really–.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cut it off at all of the other shit, too,” you said, backing away from him, his hands dropping from you as you let go of his neck. “No kissing, so what’s next? What can’t you do? You never answered that.”

He started unbuttoning his sopping wet shirt. And when it was finally completely off, he reached up to drape it across the bar of the shower head. Your eyes tracked every. single. movement. The way his bicep rippled slightly with the stretch, the way his tanned abdomen flexed. . . every muscle, so beautiful in its prominence beneath his soft skin.

When he was back from his task and looking at you again, shirtless and solid as a brick wall, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. He cleared his throat, bringing your attention to his face once more. The smirk on his lips and the way his eyebrow was arched pissed you the fuck off. Was this amusing to him?

“You think it’s funny? How turned on I am and you can’t do a damned thing about it? Even though you led me to believe you could?”

“Who said I couldn’t?”

“You just said you can’t–.”

“You didn’t let me finish, y/n,” he reasoned. “I was going to say I can’t do that right now because I need to focus on you before we get to sex.”

‘Before we get to sex’. . . was he planning on . . . more?

Deciding to ignore that dangerous train of thought for the time being, you huffed, your arms still crossed at the top of your slightly rounded abdomen. “Well, I’m just confused.”

“The only thing I told you I can’t do is kiss your lips,” he reminded you, the calloused pad of his thumb coming up to briefly touch your plush lips. His eyes followed his action, your lips still pursed in annoyance as you challenged him with your expression and stance.

But you were wavering by the second, especially any time your eyes followed a drop of water from his shoulder, all the way to the waistband of his dark jeans. And every time you caught sight of the raging erection in his jeans. . .

“Y/n.”

Embarrassed and flushed, you flicked your eyes back to his face. You covered it up with indignance and frustration, your arms tightening in their position. “What, Jake?”

“I will do anything else you need,” he reassured, taking a tentative step towards you, boots clicking against the floor of the tub – where you’d managed to press yourself against the opposite wall of the shower. Your body betrayed you, your nipples once again peaking at his proximity. “And. . . I never said I can’t kiss other parts of your body. I can very much kiss you. . . elsewhere,” his eyes trailed to where your thighs were still pressed to relieve the persistent pulse of your center.

“Goddammit, Jacob,” you breathed with a roll of your eyes, arching yourself off of the wall towards him, just in time for him to meet you halfway. “You should have said that.”

His eyes bugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips until a bright white smile appeared in a laugh. “I tried! You didn’t let me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to him, your belly between you not letting you get quite as close as you used to.

“Then do something–please.”

He leaned forward, kissing behind your ear, right where you liked to kiss him. Then, he trailed his mouth down the column of your throat. He alternated pecks and open mouthed kisses, all the way to your shoulders, collarbones. . . You sighed, completely at his mercy. When he found your left breast, he gave it the most attention.

He licked around the sensitive nipple of your left breast, mirroring it with the right. At which, he elicited a moan from you that quickly progressed into a very whiny wail. “Fuck! Fuck, yes!” You cried, grasping his wet hair, not sure how to stop yourself if you fell – your shaking knees were bound to betray you, you could feel it. “This is so fucking wrong.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” he growled against the wet, supple skin of your breast. Every word, emphasized with a lick around your tender, hardened flesh.

Your train of thought was halted as you lost all thought in your brain at him full-on kissing your nipples, rather than giving them little kitten licks. No, now he was giving them kisses just like he would your mouth. Tongue and all. You were going to finish from this alone. . . You watched him in pure astonishment, his eyebrows knit in concentration. Then, as if things could get any worse (better?) he moaned – the action vibrated against your skin.

Your hips jolted up into his. Both of you groaned in unison at the contact, his hard dick enticing you as you felt it, only a thin barrier of clothing between you. . . You felt yourself flex at nothing, your thighs feeling the wet result of your arousal.

You knew you were damn close to finishing.

“Don’t cum yet,” he commanded, mumbling around your nipple.

Of course he knew you were on the verge.

Your nipples, usually so fucking sore, felt like they were made of sparklers, electric under his soft mouth. “‘M not done yet.”

“But– I can’t– a-ah-ah!,” you moaned, your body beginning to lose its fight to stand up straight, near to giving out. “I can’t hold on for much longer, Jake. Please. I promise I’ll cum again for you,” you swore, your fingers lacing tightly into his long, chestnut locks. “Please, baby.”

The pet name slipped from your lips without thought of repercussion. But, you didn’t really care that you’d let it slip since it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, it had spurred him on even more.

“Not yet,” he bit out, his dark eyes meeting yours from their place at your full breasts.

Then, he winked, making you throb from that gesture alone. Fuck. You were a goner. You weren’t sure you could do as he said.

He went back to giving your body kisses, this time trailing back up to your face, little pecks covering every expanse of skin on your flushed face. Then, with one gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, he reached a hand up to hold your cheek.

His eyes held yours, open and vulnerable under his stare. So soft, he spoke to you with fervor in his tone. “I promise it’ll be better if you just wait, baby.”

Him returning the pet name didn’t help matters and only made you more desperate to fall apart.

So, rather than saying anything in return, you decided you’d try your best to follow his instructions. The only thing you could think to do was pinch your eyes shut and lay your head against the wall in frustration. “Fine,” you griped, hands tightening in his hair.

His mouth worked, venturing down once again, giving sloppy kisses from your collarbones all the way to your hips.

Once there, his hands replaced his mouth and started kneading at your hips as his mouth kept moving downward. His hands did a stellar job at holding you against the wall to prevent a fall.

His hold on you was strong and intent. And, while holding you, as he simultaneously massaged your hips. . . it was fucking heaven. His thumbs moved and pressed with purpose, working the tired muscle at your joints.

Fuck– he really had done his research to know that your hips could hurt like a bitch. And God knew yours did.

“My hips– Jake, god. . . thank you,” you sighed, your eyes closing at the way your body felt weightless under his hands and mouth.

Suddenly, his mouth was on your thighs, going back and forth between each leg until he reached your calves, his hands having to move down your legs with the action, still holding you upright as he knelt before you.

You opened your eyes, suddenly desiring to see him again, and you watched as he gave your legs unrelenting attention.

You watched in wonder as he very slowly started to work his way up to where you needed him most. But, once he got there, he gave you a look that made your knees buckle. . .

Then, he began on you, wasting absolutely zero time. There was no warning for his mouth meeting your searing hot, wet heat.

“Oh-oh-oh, J-Jake, f-fuck, yes!” You were nearly incoherent, but who would expect any different when you had Jake Kiszka making out with your wet and waiting pussy.

You’d been aching and waiting to have this again for so fucking long. . .The slew of curse words and moans that escaped your lips were useless, as they all came out as jumbled non-words. Utterly incoherent.

He was doing figure eights with his tongue, inching closer and closer to your opening, not even daring to edge towards your clit yet. Didn’t want you to fucking finish yet, goddammit.

You clenched your jaw, a growl coming from your lips, unable to do anything but watch him. Your eyes couldn’t dare leave the sight in front of you. He was taking his time to lap at your folds, soaked and fluttering for him. Your hips jerked forward, not able to stop the way his lips and tongue were setting you on fire to the point of retaliation.

You were trembling, your body not working on its own at all to hold you up. You were dependent on his death grip, now back on your hips, steadying you. He was pressing you so hard to the wall – you fucking hoped that he left bruises in the wake of his fingertips.

He kept on with his work for a bit longer before the water started turning cold. Fuck no.

And, of course, as if on cue, Jake backed away, wiping the corners of his mouth with the pad of his right thumb, his left hand still holding you to the wall.

“I swear to god, Jacob Thomas, if you fucking stop because of some cold wa– oh!”

He was back to licking up every bit of early release at your heat, flattening his tongue against your slit. You couldn’t catch a breath to finish what you were saying as he replaced his tongue with his fingers. He twirled his pointer and middle fingers through your soaking folds, until he met your entrance.

But, he stopped there.

And you knew why. He could tell you were cold – obviously shivering from more than his mouth and hands.

He could read you so well. You didn’t know if it was because of the connection you had to him by carrying his baby or what, but his instincts of your impending reactions came incredibly quick in recent days.

As he spoke, he kept his fingers at your core, spinning them to continue eliciting stimulation. The calluses of his fingertips were the perfect addition of friction to your swollen heat. . . you bit your lip, your head laying against the shower wall. You could barely concentrate on the fact that he’d begun talking.

“You’re shaking, y/n,” he clarified, as if you didn’t know.

Which, in true fashion, pissed you off. But, still hazy from his ongoing touch, you closed your eyes to center yourself.

When you leaned off of the wall the best you could, you opened your eyes. Instantly, it felt like you were going to slip with the movement. But, just when your foot dared to lose balance, his hold on your hip tightened. His fingers were still spinning against you, just on the precipice of entering you. So, you were sure he’d felt your walls flutter at the way he grasped you.

But, he didn’t say anything. He was too focused on your chilliness and your center, your body straight-up shaking from the now-cold water. Turning around, fingertips still tucked between your folds–still not fucking inside of you yet–, he switched the shower off.

“Jake!” You complained for no reason whatsoever. Well. . . you knew why you were complaining. You were worried. “Please, don’t let this be the–.”

“I’ve kept my fingers where they are to show you I’m not fucking done,” he responded, tone equally lacking tolerance for your attitude. “Can you just be fucking patient?”

“You’re not being patient!”

“How in the hell am I not being patient?!”

“Your voice tells me so,” you argued, hearing the way it sounded ridiculous as soon as you said it. You shook your head, body shaking from the cool nip of the bathroom air and your soaking wet body. He was also trembling, his body nearly as wet as yours.

He removed his fingers, further aggravating you. . . but you couldn’t stay mad for long as he was eliciting a gasp from you, yet again, within seconds. You watched as he removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to suck your arousal from them. Closing his eyes and moaning in the process, his opinion of the way you tasted apparent.

Holy fucking hell.

“Taste good?” You asked, trying to sound snarky, but failing from the way your breath had escaped your lungs.

When his fingers left his mouth, he slowly started to stand, eyes connecting to and never leaving yours. His grip on your hip not giving up a single bit in the process. Once he was standing at full height again, he slid the shower curtain open, eyes staying hooked on yours.

He grabbed the towel hanging on the wall rack, momentarily leaving your gaze. But, as soon as he had the towel in his hands, his eyes snapped back to your waiting stare.

“Fucking delicious. You taste better than anything – always have. . . No other woman compares. But. . . it’s–it’s even more-so now,” he paused, releasing your hip and motioning for you to come towards his arms with the fluffy, waiting towel. You turned your back to him, his breath sliding through his teeth. “Your ass. . . Fuck it all.”

You giggled, feeling so incredibly wonderful for the first time in so long. Holding your arms out a little, he wrapped the towel at your back and handed you the rest to finish wrapping yourself.

He kept talking as you cinched the white towel around yourself, your breasts not appreciating the way you tucked the material tight around your chest. You winced at the feeling, pissed with the fact that your body was so sore.

Jake’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. “You okay?”

You nodded grumpily. “Yes,” you grumbled. “It’s my boobs. They just hurt.”

There was no missing the way he bit his lip, licking them soon after before he responded. “I’ll help you feel better, baby. Don’t worry.”

The buzzing in your veins was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t trust yourself to give a valid response with how lightheaded he was making you feel.

All you could do was nod, eyes hopefully communicating your excitement.

“Anyway, I read about the taste of a woman’s release, too. . . when women are pregnant, they have the tendency to taste sweeter than usual. And I can safely assure you, it’s the motherfucking truth,” his voice was hoarse with the last sentence. He kept on, locking his Amber-brown irises with yours. “And it’s fuckin’ erotic that you taste like the sweetest thing while you’re growing my baby. . . I can’t even explain it, y/n.”

You were positively twitching, your body threatening to unravel at any given moment. Now warm from the towel, you knew most of your shivering was solely from him.

“You don’t have to. I get how hot it is. Trust me,” you assured, your mouth dry from it hanging open at his words.

Swallowing purposefully, you shook your head before stepping out of the shower. And, once you’d towel-dried your body enough, you bent to tie the towel around your hair, turning away from him. As you made your way to the mirror, leaving him to check yourself, you realized just how red your face was. “Ah! God, Jake, I look like fuckin’ Elmo.”

He belly laughed at that, the sound making your tummy ignite in a swarm of happy butterflies. “No you don’t. Trust me,” he said, still giggling at what you’d said. “. . . ‘look like Elmo’. You’re fucking hilarious.”

Not able to help the laughter bubbling in your chest either, you turned to face him to enjoy the moment together.

Well—.

You first saw all of his soaked clothes, in a neat pile ready for the laundry, next to him. His belt, rolled tight on the toilet seat.

And, Jake, completely naked.

Your body reacted immediately, suddenly ready for the most. Your tone was way too eager when an inward ponder was spoken aloud. “Are we going to have sex?”

Dear God, y/n.

He smirked, shaking his head as he leaned past your naked body to get in the cabinet under the sink for the spare towel you kept underneath the sink. His fingers brushed your ass in the process and you didn’t want to discuss how quickly his touch heated your skin. You turned away from him, leaning towards the mirror to check out the two pesky spots on your face that threatened a pimple.

“Was that on purpose?” You shot the other question his way, followed by a statement of your own. “My ass has increased in size, just like the rest of me, so . . . wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t on purpose and just because it’s huge.”

“It was most definitely on purpose,” he replied, causing you to lean back so you could give him your full attention. The response made your cheeks blush crimson red, barely visible through your slowly lightening skin.

When you swiveled his way, you found him towel drying his hair, his dick still fully erect and tempting the fucking hell out of you. You bit your lip, and he continued on, eyes closed as he focused on drying his hair. God, he was so handsome. “And I don’t know what you mean by the rest of you increasing in size or huge. God. You aren’t huge by any standard, and all I’ve noticed increase in size are the three things I enjoy watching as they get bigger.”

You flushed, turning away once more to work on towel drying your own hair before you left the steamy room. You’d want the towel to wrap up in the chilly hallway.

Suddenly intrigued by the fact that you were talking so openly with him, you kept going. “The Three B’s? Boobs, belly, butt?”

Jake was laughing again at that, his snort unmistakable, even as you were bent awkwardly at the waist to towel dry your own hair. “Yes,” he chuckled, lighthearted. “That is correct. Did you make that up?”

Damn, I missed this, your mind absently trailed. He was everything wrapped in one.

“I don’t know,” you smiled, your body buzzing with all things him. “You didn’t answer my sex question.”

“No sex,” he promptly replied. Your heart fell, but obviously being oblivious to it, he kept on. “I’ve got a job to finish tonight that doesn’t include my dick.”

“What if I want it to include your dick? Aren’t you doing this to please me?”

How had the conversation just picked up like you’d never stopped being the two of you? The awkward air that had persisted, on and off since the wretched day in the kitchen in August — it was seeming to float away day by day with his knowledge of the baby in your belly.

But, before that line of thought could run off, he was responding to you.

“Are you saying you weren’t pleased with what I started in there just now?”

“Of course I fucking was, Jake,” you rolled your eyes. “But, still–.”

“You just answered the question yourself.”

You huffed with a roll of your eyes.

“Would you just finish drying your fucking hair so I can continue eating you out?”

The way your body temperature rose inexplicably at his words was not something you wanted to admit to, so you went with a simple response to keep you on level ground with him, rather than a quivering mess.

“Aye aye, captain.”

Another snort, followed by a chuckle. “Shut the fuck up.”

“We’re not naming our baby Black Beard,” you stated jokingly, standing up to full height, eyeing him. “I know you love pirates and I love watching the documentaries with you, but. . .,” you grinned at him.

“God, fuck no,” he wrinkled his brow, shaking his body in an air of distaste. “We don’t hate the baby. We love the baby.”

And, for the umpteenth time that evening, your heart rate spiked ridiculously high.

He loves the baby.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmm... Reader is convinced it’s a one time thing. buuuut does Jake? how do you think things will go in the bedroom once we've left the bathroom? ;)

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @builtbybrokenbells, @sacredtheslay

(please remind me that you wanna be tagged if i forgot to tag you!)

#I need chapter 11 like I need WATER #your writing makes my entire day every time I read it 🤍

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